Guess whose bed I slept in last night?

Last night, I slept (alone) in the bed of a person who killed himself 12 years ago. The mother left the room just as it was 12 years ago. I saw the hanging diplomas, the prom/girlfriend/friends pictures, the books he was reading, the yearbooks, the audio cassettes and cd’s, etc. I didn’t touch any of these things, but just looked. It was quite a surreal feeling.

As his mother was leading me to the room, I wondered if I would be the first to sleep in the room since the tragedy. I soon found out the answer. The heartbroken father had slept in that same bed every night. This is the father who was as the hospital last night because he had a stroke the previous night…while in the bed on which I was sleeping.

The story behind how this situation occurred is probably too mundane and pointless for this forum.

No, it’s not. Please share, but only if you feel like it.

… And the name of that person who’d killed himself was… Jackknifed Juggernaut! [dah-DADA-DAH!]

Did you dream about it, or him?

It’s weird how that sort of thing polarises people. Of course I rationally understand that there is nothing in any of the woo-woo stuff about dead people, but being in a room that’s actually a shrine to the poor bloke would still spook me (not that I wouldn’t sleep there, but I’d feel a bit creeped out about it). Hard to undo all the conditioning, I suppose.

Yet on the other hand, there are people who absolutely aren’t troubled in the slightest. I can think of two houses where gruesome murders were committed (in one, a son killed his father by beating him to death, in another a woman had her head blown off with a shotgun) and where the new tenants were absolutely fine about the history of the places.

My children were visiting me over the holidays. They live with my future ex-wife and her parents (my in-laws) 500 miles away, in another country. When the kids visit, my mother and I drive the 1,000 mile r/t (over 2 days) to pick them up and then do it again to drop them back off. Since the kids are young and it’s such a long drive, having another adult in the car is necessary for me. Since we do this over 2 days, my mother stays at my in-laws’ house overnight while I stay in a motel. I don’t stay at the in-laws’ house for various reasons. But our families get along, so it’s not a problem for my mom to stay there.

This time, my mom made plans for us to stay at her old friend’s house, who lives near my in-laws, and who is the mother of the unfortunate young man (and the wife of the stroke victim).

We started our journey yesterday morning, dropped off the kids, and then proceeded to mom’s friend’s house. We had no idea that the husband had had a stroke the previous night. The friend obviously was at the hospital all the previous night and day and didn’t have a chance to call us. Since the man had a stroke, his best friend and wife rushed to the house to help with things while their friend was in the hospital. They were also going to spend the night there, since they lived a few hours away.

Since they were a couple, they got the room with the double bed that I was originally supposed to sleep in. I got bumped to the only other room left in the house…that room.

I don’t usually remember my dreams, so I don’t know. But the bed was so uncomfortable that I didn’t sleep well at all anyway. My back was in pain the entire drive back today. I don’t know how the father slept in that bed every night.

I wasn’t creeped out or troubled at all. I was truly in a surreal state. I think that part of this was related to the 500-mile drive and the emotions of not having my my kids around for a while.

I did an internship in the office of a living dead woman.

They put me in my own office. But it was obviously “in use.” I found out that the woman it belonged to was in the hospital for cancer and every time someone discreetly inquired about her, they were met with the that solemn, wordless shake of the head.

This woman loved pictures. they were everywhere on her desk, walls, doors, cabinets, etc… So I was surrounded by the life of this woman who was somewhere on her deathbed. Like JJ says, very surreal.

The whole building was remodeled during my tenure and her office disappeared in the new configuration. So I guess someone packed up her stuff. That must have been a sad job.

This is how I picture JackknifedJuggernaut got into this situation.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named JJ. He went for a walk in the forest. Pretty soon, He came upon a house. He knocked and, when no one answered, he walked right in. JJ was very tired by this time, so he went upstairs to the bedroom. He lay down in the first bed, but it was too hard. Then he lay in the second bed, but it was too soft. Then he lay down in the third bed and it was just right. JJfell asleep…

As he was sleeping, the three bears came home. They decided to look around some more and when they got upstairs to the bedroom, Papa bear growled, “Someone’s been sleeping in my bed,”

“Someone’s been sleeping in my bed, too” said the Mama bear

“Someone’s been sleeping in my bed and I’m gonna haunt his mother-fuckin’ ass! WooOOOOOoO!” exclaimed Baby bear.

Just then, JJ woke up and saw the two bears and one ghost bear. He screamed, “Cite!” And he jumped up and ran out of the room. JJ ran down the stairs, opened the door, and ran away back to his computer. To this day the ghost bear haunts him by eating all his oatmeal and other porridge-like substances. The End.

Are both of your irises still the same color?