At work years ago the subject of real life ghost stories came up. Woman1 insisted she’d a good one and didn’t. Woman2 insisted she’d nothing to share but goes on to talk about a former home where objects moved, lights flashed & they saw someone. She even cried. We were stunned.

The woman who said she had a great ghost story to tell us went on a long and meandering tale that never went anywhere and made no sense. It definitely wasn’t spooky. It was the opposite of spooky. Her enthusiasm promised something good story but that isn’t what we got.

The other woman was a secretary. She was pleasant and easy to get along with. She didn’t usually come into the staff eating area while we were in there but on that day she did. Honestly, I’ve a hard time recalling all the details she shared.

What I remember is the shock I felt at her specifics because it all sounded like material ripped from a standard horror movie. Her experience happened in childhood while living with her mother in an old white house that wasn’t too far from the location of our job.

In fact, we all knew the house. We were familiar with it because we’d all driven past it dozens of times heading to and from work. I’d never heard the place was haunted but why would I?

My coworker was definitely traumatized by these years old experiences she’d had with her mom. What made the whole thing fascinating was that she didn’t think she had a good story to tell.