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October went by just a little too quick and I didn't get everything done that I'd hoped too. I had WAY more people submit ghost stories than what I thought would and for that I want to say thank you, thank you, and thank you. I didn't get the chance to post them all, but I have one more that I really wanted to share. Even though Halloween has come and gone, in some countries today is part of their Day Of The Dead celebration so I've still got time *wink* As they say, Where there's a will there is a way. Today's story is another one from my daughter written about a time when she was staying at my all time favorite place, The Crescent Hotel. I hope you enjoy it and remember you can find Keshia in the following places.
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Oneyear while in college, my best friend and I decided to take a “girl trip” fullof shopping and pampering. On Mom’s recommendation, we went to Eureka Springs,Arkansas, and stayed at the Crescent Hotel. Of course, I knew about the hotel’shauntings, but my friend wasn’t a believer, so I decided to just not put muchemphasis on it. There was plenty for us to do without going ghost hunting. On ourfirst night at the hotel, it stormed. If you’ve never been on top of a mountain(inside, of course) during a lightning storm, you don’t know what you’remissing. It was incredible. But eventually we got tired of taking pictures ofthe storm and went to bed. I wasin that state between asleep and awake when I felt someone jump into bed withme after an especially loud clap of thunder. It wasn’t until after I’d rolledover to make more room that my brain kicked in and I realized that somethingwasn’t right about that. My best friend, the only other person in the room, wassoftly snoring in her bed, across the room. I slowly reached out toward thedepressed area of my bed and felt a distinct cold spot. Whatever was in my bedonly took up a small area of space, and I didn’t feel threatened, so I rolledover to go back to sleep. A fewmoments later, another bolt of thunder sounded, and my friend quit snoring. I’dalmost drifted off when she hissed, “Keshia, there’s someone in my bed.” Shesounded, well, panicked. But the little form snuggled next to me was stillthere. I have enough of my mother in me to know it was time to do a little ghosthunting. I rolled out of bed, flipped on the light, and grabbed my camera. Myfriend was sitting up, staring at an empty spot on her bed. “It’s right there.”She pointed, and when I ran my hand through the area, sure enough, there was acold spot. I quickly turned and snapped one picture of my bed before my camerabatteries died. But not to worry, I had extras. Rechargables, that I’d pluggedin before we went to sleep. Or did I?” I ranover to where I’d left them, only to find the batteries scattered on the floor,and the charger, neatly folded up, sitting several feet from the outlet.Apparently, whatever was with us didn’t want their picture taken. As you canimagine, I had a lot of explaining to do. Myfriend and I sat up for hours, talking about ghosts, what it was like to livewith them, and what I thought they were. I even talked to our bed-sharingghosts, but they weren’t willing to move at all. I finally convinced my friendto close her eyes and try to get an impression from the ghost lying at herfeet. She told me the first thing that came to her mind was a small child,afraid of the storm. When I told her that was very similar to what I felt, amixture of being calmed and exhausted let her fall asleep. When wewoke the next morning, the storm had passed, and the cold spots were gone. Butneither one of us could get the incident off our minds. Finally, the eveningrolled around, and the hotel was putting on a ghost tour. We got there early totalk to the tour guide, wanting to see if anyone else had reported what we hadexperienced. I told him everything, leaving out only that my friend and I hadboth thought of scared children. The owner of the ghost tour listened to ourtale without comment. After we finished, he said he hadn’t heard anything ofthat nature before, but it didn’t surprise him. At one point the hotel had beena hospital, and our rooms were part of the children’s wing.
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