One bright sunny Sunday morning, getting up and ready for church, my son, Jerome approached me and asked me if he could go out of town with some friends. I told him no, and that he was too young to go anywhere with a group of young boys his age unsupervised.

I left for church. Even in church I have a funny feeling just nagging at me. When I returned Jerome was there. He had this strange glow about him, a newness, freshness, just very bright glow. He asked me to drop him off at some friend's house, I told him if he would go shopping with me, I would drop him off then. He said he would catch the bus.

When Jerome would leave the house, he always left by the back door, and go through the back gate. That day he went out of the front door, and walked around the side of the house and then out of the back gate. He came back inside and told me good-bye and gave me a kiss. I immediately thought this to be strange but let it pass. I was sitting in a chair facing the back yard and I looked at him as he walked through the back gate. That's when I really noticed this glow about him. It was very bright, clear yet blinding.

Somehow that strange feeling was still in me. A friend said, lets take a ride so you can shake this funk off you. Before we left, I thought I heard Jerome calling me in a panic tone. I ran out the backdoor thinking it was Jerome.

I ran in the garage where my elder son was washing the car and asked him if he heard Jerome calling. He said, "No, Jerome left about twenty minutes ago."

We left to go for a ride, passing the street where Jerome's friend lived and we saw this crowd of people gathering. I made a remark that I hated this time of the year, when the weather gets nice, crowds of people gather on the streets and that you can't really get through. As we continued the drive, we began to see police cars and ambulances. That strange feeling in me got stronger but I didn't know what to do.

We stopped at my friend's house and the phone started to ring. It was my elder son. He told me Jerome had been shot and asked me to get to the hospital ASAP.

When I arrived at the hospital I was told that Jerome was dead. I heard him calling me as it was happening. I knew he was shot at 4:23PM, the time when I heard his voice calling me.

That night as I was lying in bed, it sounded as if Jerome was walking from his room to the kitchen. That was when my dog let out the curdling sound. It was so scary that chills went through the whole house. We all asked if everyone heard that sound.

The next day, I was still in bed, still not believing Jerome was dead. Then I felt him. It seemed as though he came into my room, climbed onto my bed, over my legs, hurting them, and started playing with my chin. He told me he was okay and he had to say good-bye to some more people. He them climbed back across my legs and off the bed. I could feel him so clearly. I followed him out of my bed room into the dining room and then, he just disappeared.

After his burial, my doorbell started ringing at about 12:30AM each night. The first night I went to the door and I noticed the storm door was open as if some one was at the door waiting to come in. My knees buckled. The next night it did the same thing, same time each night. Finally, I had my friend to disconnect the bell.

My elder son then began to tell me that his doorbell started to ring each night about 12:30AM. I never told him my doorbell had been ringing each night and till this day, I have not plugged my doorbell in.

Go to Ghostly Memoirs 5

Owl's Ghost Stories © 2000 by Will Ong