Lies and Spirits
When I think back on it, I really don’t know what to believe about things my ex-boyfriend told me. His brother said to me after we broke up, “S- is the biggest liar I know.” Of course, at the time I was dating S-, I believed everything; I was under his spell. His youngest brother would look at us and say the word, “Svengali,” over and over. I had to look it up, and even then, I had no idea what he was talking about until the spell was broken many years later.
Regardless of truth, he lived in a haunted apartment in Dallas. Apparently there had been some sort of family murder suicide in the two story studio, and S- would see the father and the children’s ghosts in the upstairs rooms and along the stairs. It didn’t matter that the place was built in the 1970s. A violent act had taken place, and the former tenants were confused and sad, and somehow bound to this building.
Later, after we broke up, he moved to Colorado and returned for a visit to tell me of his further adventures with the spirit world. Colorado was a beautiful place, and he was getting in touch with nature. But he felt the spirits there too. He would be walking through the woods and suddenly pass through a spot, and just know he was in the presence of ghosts. Whether it was a chill or a tingle, a vision or a smell, I don’t remember. I just remember looking at him and believing it was true.
The beauty of these ancient spirits was that instead of being tied to a man-made structure, they were tied to the land, to nature. Perhaps they had died in battle or on the hunt. Or perhaps this was a place where the old and infirm were sent to sit and die, alone, but with…