The Bedroom Ghost

There is no doubt in my mind that I am truly a "creature of habit." When getting dressed, my left leg goes into the pair of pants first, the right sock goes on before the left sock, and the necklace is always in place before a watch or bracelet is donned. The habits are quite obvious in the bedroom as well. I sleep on the same side of the bed, sleep on my tummy, and definitely face in the direction of TC (Terry); thus begins my saga...

Life was wonderful in Sterling, Virginia, the year 2003. We resided in a home that we absolutely adored, had the best of neighbors, and loved our jobs. TC would rise much earlier than I would because he had a 45-mile commute to work, while I worked in Reston, just 9 miles from home; therefore, we each had our own nightstands with our own alarm clocks. I would normally sleep through his but awaken to the buzzing of mine, followed by hitting that snooze button more than several times before crawling out of bed to a new day, a new dawn.

Lying in bed early one morning, I felt so warm, so cozy that I had no desire to even move, let alone get ready for work. I could feel the warm sun beaming on my still-closed eyes and that nasty alarm clock buzzing louder than usual. Blindly reaching for the snooze button, I slowly opened my eyes knowing that TC would have already left for work. It was then that I let out the most blood-curdling scream ever known, though I myself didn't hear it. That's how horrified I was to see a man standing across the bed from me. He was wearing a silver jumpsuit and had that Leo DeCaprio hair, but I couldn't make out his face. It was a total blur! My heart was running rapid, pounding throughout my entire body!

I slammed my head face-down into the pillow and prayed that he would just go away. "Wait! This is more than likely just a dream," so I reached up and pinched myself...slapped myself on the cheek. "Nope...not a dream! I think I'm really awake." I slowly raised my head to face the mirrored headboard. Staring at myself, I could see that my eyes were open, my lips were moving. "I AM AWAKE!!!" Trying to stay as calm as I could (and not doing an especially good job of it), I thought, "He must be gone by now; otherwise, I would be dead."

After checking once again in the mirror to see that I was wide awake and my eyes were totally open, I slowly turned in his direction and prayed, "Oh, please God, help me!!" He is still there, but he hasn't moved and hasn't spoken. So I did what I do best...I screamed! "GO AWAY!" Right on command, I saw him fade through the bedroom wall to the outside world. "What the hell was that all about?"

Needless to say, I didn't get anything accomplished at work that day because my head was filled with "Leo." I felt inside quivers whenever I thought of that early morning awakening. I came up with every imaginable reason for his being there and nothing made any sense. One major conclusion I did reach, though, was that I would NOT be telling TC. Either he would have me committed to the closest loony bin or make an appointment with the first psychiatrist he could find in the telephone book.

That night while I was preparing for bed, waves of anxiety flooded over me. Will I dream of "Leo?" Will he be here in the morning? Should I just crawl out of bed with my eyes closed? Maybe I'm being paranoid. He won't be here. It was a dream. Just count sheep. Everything will be perfectly fine. I know that for a fact!

Nevertheless, for the following two mornings as I opened my eyes, I saw "Leo" planted in the same spot across the bed from me. Out came the scream, along with "GO AWAY!"; and he gracefully exited through the wall as he had done previously. This is just too weird. I'm going to start a full-fledged investigation, beginning with Nancy, my neighbor.

Bill and Nancy became our good friends after we moved from an apartment in Herndon to Sterling. They were fun-loving friends who could have a good time doing just about anything. It became a daily ritual to gather on their deck after work for a glass of wine and chat about everything from dirt to golf. (I chose water or root beer even though I had seriously considered taking up drinking to get away from "Leo.")

For the next week "Leo" appeared every morning right on cue, never talking, never moving. I no longer screamed at him but told him quietly, "Go away" and he did, just as always. But one morning he was nowhere to be found. I blinked once, twice, three times, and still no "Leo." I breathed a sigh of relief as I rolled over to turn off the alarm. "AHHHHHHHH!!" He was at the edge of the bed within inches of me! I could have reached out and touched him. I swear I have never moved so fast in my life, pouncing to the end of the bed and out the door. I was trembling from head to toe, shivers everywhere. When I returned to the bedroom, he was gone; in fact, I didn't see him for the next several days. That wail of a scream I belted out must have scared even him. Thank goodness!

There was one strange occurrence, however, that made me suspect he had not gone far. Early one morning I awoke before the alarm went off. No "Leo" was to be found on either side of the bed. While I was gazing at the clock, contemplating whether or not to get up, the clock began to move very slowly across the nightstand. "Okay, the clock is really not moving." I blinked once, twice, and yes--it was definitely moving. I decided that my eyes were playing tricks on me, so I reached out, and slowly moved it back to its original spot and waited. Within seconds, it started the trek across the nightstand. "I am going crazy, I really am going crazy. This is not funny anymore, Leo."

The wanna-be super sleuth inside me once again appeared. "I'm going to pull that clock back into place, and leave my hand on it to prove that it is definitely NOT moving." DAMN! It actually moved while my hand was on it! I jumped out of bed, got dressed and scurried off to work. At least my co-workers didn't think I was going insane, even though I honestly did.

When I was able to eventually drift off to sleep at night, I slept soundly with one exception. This particular night I was abruptly awakened around 3 a.m. by an enormous jolt, as though someone had jumped on the bed. Opening my eyes drowsily, I saw "Leo" lying between TC and me. I blurted out, "OH! OH! Buddy, you have cross the boundary now!" I started wailing on "Leo" with all the strength I could muster. I was going to beat the living daylights out of him if it killed me. I pounded and pounded...every hit harder than the previous one. And only then did he finally speak:

"Arlinda, Arlinda...WHAT are you doing?" That voice sounded so familiar...and I felt as though someone was shaking me. It was TC! Oh no! I'm beating up TC! What have I done now? I kept apologizing over and over, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He thought I was having a nightmare, which it could have been classified as one, and laughed about it. He did admit that the first hit to the middle of his chest was quite a wallop.

From that night forward, "Leo" behaved himself better than I had anticipated. In the morning I would see him standing outside the bedroom door, but not alone. He was accompanied by a woman. She didn't leave much of an impression on me because I cannot recall what she even looked like or what she wore. However, I did tell "Leo" that he was a bad boy; if he wanted to use my bedroom, he should have just asked.

Several weeks later I had an appointment with Dr. Cintron, my neurologist. He was an awesome physician, always coming to the waiting room to greet me, and taking me into his office to chat before running any tests. On this particular visit, I told him about "Leo," incident by incident, and he didn't even look at me as though I were crazy. I concluded my tales with: "But life is good, Dr. Cintron, I have learned to live with "Leo." It was only then that he chuckled. He further explained to me that I was having what is known as "night terrors," caused by the drug amitriptyline.

Once he prescribed a new drug for me and the amitriptyline was out of my system, "Leo" truly vanished and not through the bedroom wall like his initial exit. However, I have to admit that I do miss him sometimes. Does that make me crazy?