I was asked the other night if I believe in ghosts. As a guy who is capable of reason and has a thorough understanding of scientific method I want to say that no, I don’t believe in ghosts. There is no empirical evidence to support encounters or similar, and surely there would be after the last many centuries of reported sightings. But, logic escapes me and experience takes over.
While I’m not going to say that I had an “encounter”, something did happen when I was much younger, and it still brings goosebumps to my skin even today.
When I used to live up in the country I lived with my dad a 40-minute bike ride away. Riding my bike to work, friends houses and school daily, the trek there and back was often very boring and the same. I liked to mix it up and take alternative routes. One night I was making my way home from work at about 1am, deciding to take a road which took me behind a block of grapes (which there are hundreds of around Renmark).
The night sky was clear, and the ground around me was lit up perfectly, with a full moon hanging high in the air. It was a warm summers night and I was even warmer from riding my bike. Less than a few kilometres from home, I had a sudden urge to stop my bike by this vineyard. Pulling off to the side of the dirt road, I got off and leant against my bike. While the air around me was still, I had a creeping feeling come across me like a cold wind had ripped through the town. And then I felt something I had never felt before.
I was terrified. Well beyond anything that I had ever experienced before, fear had poured into my body flooding every inch of my soul. Beyond a point of being scared, this emotion had hit me like a tidal wave and almost knocked me over. The wind had been forced from my lungs and I was doubled over, drawing in short breath after short breath. My skin was prickled, goosebumps stood out and covered me as if I had been doused in ice water. And it was still there, fear.
Tears had started streaming down my eyes, but I didn’t know why. I looked around, scuffling in the dirt with my bike laying away on the ground. There was nothing here, nothing to be scared of. And then I saw it. Well, I didn’t actually see anything, I felt it. The strangest feeling which I’ve never experienced again. It was as if I was remembering something which happened long ago, the memory surfacing in emotion and thoughts.
A young girl, not much older than 6 or 7, stood in a clear paddock. I knew that she was standing just in front of where I was now, in a time before the grapes had been planted. She wore a red dress, the colour was washed out beneath the full moon. She was facing away from me but I could tell that she was crying. Her soft sobs echoing through the air. She was scared. She took a step backwards, coming a little closer to myself. Beyond her, I stood that a grey dog stood just metres from her, its back arches and teeth growling at her. Through her tears she was staring it in the eye. Despite her age, she knew what the feral animal was thinking.
As if in slow motion, I saw her turn and take off in a single motion. She was running towards the road, stepping quickly and trying to outrun the dog. The animal was on her tail almost instantly. I could feel its hot breath on the back of my legs, I could hear it snapping at her heels. Terror still flowed through my veins but what happend next I couldn’t every have imagined.
As she made it to the road, the dog knocked her over. Grabbing the young girl by the arm, it bit down hard. Pain seared through my arm. I could feel it. The sensation felt as if the dog had bitten me, but at the same time it was removed as if I was just remembering something that happened.
Once again I felt as if a breeze was sweeping over me, but the air was still. The girl and the dog were both gone and I was left to catch my breath. Walking slowly back to my bike, I went home with the remnants of the experience circling around in my head.
Every single time I went past this place- by bike, car or on foot- I still got flashbacks of this girl being taken by a stray dog. My heart races and my chest tightens, goose bumps covering my body. Even now, writing this, my skin prickles as my memory flashes back.
I’m not saying that I believe in ghosts, but there are just some things I can’t explain in this world.
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I think it would be acceptable to use the term “paranormal activity” to explain those things which we cannot identify that relate to what you experienced.
I too myself have an unexplained incident to this very day, but it would rather concern something that I have since discovered a child is dubbed “shadow people”.
I do not suffer from the sightings of these anymore, but I on the other hand, do believe in “ghosts” (for lack of better term).
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