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A Haunting in Utah – A Novel

1/7/12 – 12:25pm

It’s happened again, the house is haunted.  It seems to be a trend that when Mark (our Director of Sales) and I are on the road, we end up in some sort of terrifying situation.  Below is an up to date recount of our current stay in SLC Utah, i’ll release the prequel “Black Jack’s Saloon” in the near future…

“It’s the fan belt I think”  Mark yells, as we reach te edge of a massive down hill street, near the house we’re renting in SLC Utah.  Consider our predicament, we’re on our way to the Salt Palace Convention Center, we have 1 hour to drop off our iconic ’66 Airsteam trailer; which has become a staple of the brand at this point.  It becomes abundantly clear that the car is done, it takes us about 30 seconds before we fully comprehend how F’d we are.

‘The house did this to us’ I think, as we summit the hill and begin to drift downward, the whole car vibrates as what sounds like a steel bike chain spins around inside the transmission.

We’d just left the house.  As soon as we opened the door we looked at each other and understood the situation.  The house is haunted.  It was old.. Adorned in mid 20’s statues of babys and women doing chores.  The living room houses an organ and a grand piano.  Its bright inside but it feels dark.  It’s the type of place that puts off a vibe you can feel as you walk through the room.

We cautiously inch around the house examining each room.  The basement contains only books and 1 recliner, sitting alone in the middle of the room facing the stairs.  Mark goes to the bathroom and leaves me alone in this daytime nightmare. I muster up all of my courage and creep upstairs.  More old books.

I take each step slowly, listening intently to my surroundings.  I reach the top stair where I see 3 shut doors.  I pause and stare at them just long enough for the middle door to jolt, loud.  At this point I nearly shit myself.  I’m frozen, I have to know more.  I slowly crouch to look under the door as a big gust of wind exits the crack an blows the carpet off the floor.

The window was open,  In the middle of January.  Curtains blowing ferociously in the wind.

My fear is that this is only the beginning.  Below is a photo I shot while sitting in the living room.  He’s looking at me.


1/8/12 – 10:30 am

I experienced pure terror today.  I don’t know that i’ve ever felt that before.  I now know that my fight or flight response is some horrible mixture of the two.

Mark left me alone in the house this morning, he had to run some errands and seemed delighted in the fact that he was leaving me there by myself.  I wasn’t sure what to do, there was no chance in hell i was just going to sit there alone all day so i decided to take the fastest shower imaginable and head out on my own adventure.

Mark was gone, I feigned courage as i crept up the stairs once more.. i’d been sleeping on the couch in the living room for fear of the 3rd floor.  I gathered my things so i could pop out of the shower and immediately get dressed and run out the door.  I stepped into the shower but had to leave the curtain open… the idea of not being able to see what may or may not be on the other side was too much for me to handle.  Freezing, I stepped out of the shower.  I was furiously applying my hair Fiber when the DOOR SLAMMED OPEN BY ITSELF.

Now for the fight/ flight response:

Propping my arms up in old fashioned boxing form, and jumping around backwards, panting, naked in the bathroom.  “What?  What do you want?!”  i scream at the empty hallway..  no response…  “I hate you, i hate you.. no i love you i mean… i love you”  i whisper under my breath.  I decided that you don’t want to tell the ghost you hate it, that will only make things worse…

To be continued..



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