Ghost story #1

Way back in 1978, when I was in Year 10, a friend of
mine - lets call him Dave - came to school looking
sombre and distressed. Dave had lost his normal
joviality; gone were his witty wise-cracks, his
disruptive behaviour along with his use of certain
colourful expressions to embarrass the girls in
English class. The form tough-guy had something on
his mind.
"What's wrong Dave?" I asked.
"... nothing..." he sighed, but I knew a troubled
friend when I saw one.
"C'mon, tell me, I'm your mate... maybe I can help
you..."
"You can't... and anyway you wouldn't believe me if I
told you.."
Dave wouldn't divulge the reason for his
introvertedness till lunchtime, when I saw him sitting
alone.
"You wouldn't believe me..." he repeated, without
looking at me.
"Yes I would..." I said. "maybe just by telling me you
will feel better... get it off your chest..."
He shook his head slowly, but then started to talk.
His story unfolded like this:
"Last night I woke up. I couldn't sleep for some
reason. The digital clock said it was 3:23am..."
Dave seemed to stop for a minute. I urged him to
continue.
"I had the feeling that someone else was in the room.
I rolled over and saw a little boy of about four
standing next to my bed... he was wearing a blue
shirt"
"What? Who was it? Did you have visitors?"
"No... I didn't recognise him... but strangely, I felt
I knew him. I wasn't surprised at all he was in my
room... I felt like he was a friend, and was calm
about it..."
"Then what happened?"
"Well he started to talk... I think... his mouth was
moving but no sound came out... then he held his hand
up... I can remember it so clearly... I went to shake
his hand, and it disappeared... "
"What do you mean... his hand disappeared?"
"His hand... him... he was just gone all of a
sudden..."
"Like a ghost!" I said. Dave didn't agree or disagree.
He just sat there, staring into space.
"You probably were dreaming..." I said.
"Yeah, maybe. But then in the morning I was telling my
mum. She became agitated when I said I had a dream.
When I said it was of a little boy, she really became
upset. She asked if he was wearing a blue shirt even
before I mentioned it. Then when she asked at what
time did I have the "dream", she cried "Oh my God!",
dropped the plate she was holding and rushed over to
hug me..."
I could tell that Dave was now very upset. His voice
was wavering.
"Mum said that it was no dream. She told me I had an
older brother, who died by electrocution when he was
four, two years before I was born. Every year, at
3:23am on the anniversary of his death he comes back
to say ...hello..."
Dave now had tears in his eyes.
I put my arm around him, but he shrugged it off and
got up and walked away.

by Glen David Short