Spirit Chronicles: Part 1

She was Naked, I was Afraid

Dead people. Not exactly the life of the room, am I right? Seriously, they can be such duds. But every once in awhile, you get one who likes to mix it up, die life to the fullest, play with the living. In short, you have ghosts.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: she’s lost it, written too many paranormal scenes or delved too far into her characters lives. And, I’ll admit, some days that’s the reason for my madness. But I swear, God’s honest truth here…I’ve seen more than my share of dead people. And I’m not talking about crime scenes or death pronouncements or funerals. I’m talking about seeing, hearing, (sometimes even feeling) people who have left this earth days, weeks, years earlier.

Seeing them as clearly as I see the morning sun.

And, file this under ‘I can’t believe I actually have to put in this disclaimer’, but for all of you people in the back row who are jumping up and down, waving your hands madly, the answer is no, I haven’t seen Elvis. Besides, I’m pretty sure isn’t really dead, right?

In addition, I’m not the Long Island Medium or Tyler Henry or Sylvia Browne. I don’t have a crystal ball or secret landline to your loved ones, I don’t do channeling, and I have no clue what numbers will come up in the next Powerball drawing.

Phew, glad we straightened that all out.

So, what can I tell you? Well, I can tell you the truth—I’m not delusional (at least, I don’t think I am. But how would I know? Do delusional people accept the fact that they are delusional? Like, if I deluded myself into thinking I was, oh I don’t know, Nora Roberts, would I understand that it was, in fact, delusional thinking?). I can also tell you that I’m not a day drinker (well, mostly) or into the wacky tobacky. I’m just a simple writer, a lover of all things unexplained, who has witnessed full-body apparitions and heard the voices of my deceased loved ones. For reals.

What makes me so damn special, you ask? Why do I get to see cool stuff and you don’t? Beats the hell outta me.

In this, a four-part series of thoughts about life and death and the veil that separates them both, I will share with you my most intense experiences with full-body apparitions and other-worldly events that will leave you breathless (get it? Breathless? I kill myself 😁.) It’s up to you whether to embrace it or toss it aside, like some kind of heartless stiff. (oops, I did it again. Genius.) So, hang onto your hats, kids, for a recounting of the number one creepiest thing that’s ever happened to me.

________________________________________

My experience occurred many years ago in a hotel in South Jersey. My husband and I were attending a niece’s wedding, arriving a day before the blessed event. Upon attempting to check in, were told that our room would not be ready for another hour. And so, with suitcases in hand, we took the elevator to the floor above ours, and an adjoining suite of rooms booked for the wedding party. Picture it, if you will…a room full of people, half ‘in the bag’ at noon, singing and drinking and having a great time. I remember that all the doors were open —the sliding door with a gorgeous view of the Atlantic, the main door in the hallway (where we were now standing) and the door that led to the adjoining suite, where the groom-to-be was staying. I also recall wondering how it was that no one was complaining about the rowdy bunch in rooms 413 and 415.

Given that the big, scary concierge wasn’t stalking toward us with a wooden spoon and waving a Miss Manner’s guide book, I figured we were safe.

From the doorway, my husband close behind, I called out to the bride’s father and announced our presence. He and his wife had been our closest friends for decades and their daughter, though not family by blood, was our niece in heart. Walter called back—louder than I thought possible with all the cackling in the background—to leave our bags at the door and come in for a drink.

And we obliged. (I know, I know, I said I wasn’t a day drinker. So, sue me). We set our bags down and, in the lead, I entered the room. As I walked toward Walter, I casually turned my head to the left and the open door in the adjoining room. Time froze.

Did you ever have that feeling, that sense that what you were seeing couldn’t possibly be real? A bear crossing your path in an urban setting or the fin of a shark in knee-deep water? It was like that, only much more intense. To this day, I can vividly see the image when I close my eyes.

A woman. A very old, very naked woman, sat on the edge of the bed in the next room. The bed was facing the open door as I passed it, so I was able to see her full-on, with all her lady bits on display and nothing impeding my sight. She had long, gray hair that hung limply around her shoulders and she wore the saddest expression I had ever seen. In an instant, I felt everything she felt at that moment; grief, confusion, sorrow, and an almost paralyzing fear. The poor thing was despondent, lost, with no idea where she was and how she got there.

And she was solid. God as my witness, I would have sworn on my children’s eyes, right there and then, that she was real. (You people in the back row have grown awfully quiet. She would swear on her kids eyes? Wow, that’s intense!😜)

My first thought was a practical one; who the hell would let her sit there, naked, and not close the door? She deserved privacy and dignity, dammit! And what was worst, the groom’s young son was standing right next to her, seemingly oblivious to her presence, without a care in the world.

Outrageous!

So I did the only thing I could think of. I whipped around, threw my hand up in a ‘stop’ position, and mouthed to my husband, “There is a naked lady in there! Stay back!” at which point his feet stopped so suddenly it was a miracle the momentum didn’t propel him up my behind. When I once again faced forward, I raised my arm to close the door.

I would question my friends later. Right now, I only wanted, needed, to help this poor soul.

Just as my hand grabbed the door’s edge, I peeked into the room again. She was gone. In an instant, a millisecond, she had vanished. There was no way she could have up and left without me seeing her. But you want to know the really bizarre thing about this whole encounter? I forgot all about it. Like, legitimately forgot. Never asked my friends or the bride and groom or anyone else at that wedding about the naked lady in room 413, until we were on the way home days later.

Weird, right?

Anyway, we never did figure out who she was or why she was there. Or, most importantly, where her clothes were. But it was, without a doubt, the oddest sighting that I have had to this day, and the reason why I will listen to any story, no matter how far-fetched it seems.

Next time on Beyond the Veil… Spirit Chronicles, Part Two: Quinn Brings Home a Friend, where we will examine another strange encounter in my wacky world of the paranormal, this one involving a grocery store, a spectral teen, and the Jeep ride home.

Freaky stuff.