It was Christmas Eve and, as removal men placed my furniture in the lonely spaces, I was busily putting up a tree and decorations. I wanted my first Christmas in my new warehouse apartment to be as perfect as it could and the gold trimmed red velvet bows, scattered about the room, and twinkling lights on the Christmas tree just made all the effort worthwhile.
Everything looked cosy by about 6 pm, so I sat down with a glass of mulled wine and the dulcet tones of Fleetwood Mac filling the air. With every sip, I could smell the cinnamon and orange, and I felt so pleased with my sumptuously decorated apartment. The smouldering aroma of frankincense and myrrh candles on my glass coffee table gave a lovely peaceful atmosphere. I couldn?t imagine any better feeling than this.
Having spent a few hours in sheer bliss, I thought a nice bath might be in order and put my glass down. As I stood up, the candles suddenly extinguished and Fleetwood Mac was replaced by the chorus of Frosty the Snowman! When the music stopped, I looked for any sign of draughts, quickly followed by checking the CD player. No windows open, no draughts and the only CD in the player was an original Fleetwood Mac album.
Being alone, I told myself Frosty the Snowman must have come from a neighbour?s apartment and I caused the candles to go out by standing up suddenly. I just didn?t want to spook myself out on my first night in my new home, so I bravely made for my bathroom.
No sooner had I turned the taps when I heard a door in my apartment slam shut and, as I turned around to look out into the living room, I noticed the candles were lit again. The hairs on the back of my neck rose to attention and I was worried that there was an intruder in my home.
I picked up an aerosol deodorant as a weapon, and went to investigate the slammed door. The only door found to be shut was my bedroom, so I made a slow approach towards the door and opened it with fear and trepidation. Once opened, I peered around the door, and jumped out of my skin when I found myself in a full length mirror near the door. ?Holy moly!?, I blurted out. At that moment the chorus of Frosty the Snowman started to echo around me, I couldn?t have been any more frightened.
My breath was apparent and the room felt icy cold. Frosty was still doing his bit for Britain?s Got Talent and I ran to check the CD player again. The music stopped and I heard a noise coming from the smaller bedroom, like a piece of furniture toppling over. By this time I was absolutely stiff with fear, still thinking there might be an intruder, but somehow I managed to walk to that bedroom and went in.
To my horror, there was a man hanging from the ceiling, noose and all! I just couldn?t move or scream. I was fixated on his crooked face, deformed by such a cruel death. Frosty the Snowman started again and I just did what I could by shutting my eyes. After what seemed like ages, the music stopped and I opened my eyes. The man was gone, but it didn?t make me feel better.
I gathered some clothes and left the apartment for a local hotel. I stayed there for a few days and then went to the local library, to check out the history of my new home.
I discovered that a man, called Manny Snow, had hung himself, on the same floor that my apartment was on, December 1950. At that time the building was operating as a warehouse and Manny worked there. The newspaper of the day said that he had lost his wife and children in a house fire and was so forlorn that he couldn?t face Christmas without them. A colleague found him, hanging from a light fitting, with the vinyl record of the Christmas song at the time, Frosty the Snowman, at his feet. Ironically, his colleagues called him ?the snowman? because of his name. It was thought that Manny had done this Christmas Eve but had only been found when the warehouse reopened after the bank holidays.
Reading this, I felt scared and sad at the same time. I loved my new apartment and I didn?t want to give it up. I felt sad for this poor soul who had ended his life in such a horrible way. I had to face this spirit and fight for my home.
As I walked into my apartment, I resolved that my New Year was going to be better than my first Christmas here. I pottered about as if all was normal, secretly dreading the approaching night and what it may hold.
Lighting my scented candles I started a bottle of Shiraz with a pack of cheese Pringles, determined to keep my nerve. Sure enough, by about 10 pm Frosty the Snowman was sounding me out and my candles appeared to be playing with fire again.
Before any doors could slam, I went straight to the small bedroom and sat on the guest bed waiting for an appearance. I didn?t have to wait long as the hanging man suddenly transpired in front of me. The mere sight of this ghoul made me want a pee, but I decided to speak.
?Manny, I know that you?re sad and you miss your family.? I began to appeal to the ghost, hoping I could make a difference. ?The truth is that your family are waiting for you in heaven and you need to leave this place and all the pain behind.? As I finished this sentence, the music stopped and the ghost was standing in front of me. Not knowing what was going to happen, I told myself it was better than him hanging.
The apparition opened his mouth and said, ?How many years have I been lost??
?Manny, it?s been about 60 years. All that hurt inside of you has somehow kept you here, but your family must be waiting for you.? I really felt sad for this poor soul and thought that the white light angle might be useful because it usually was in films. ?Manny, I think you need to head for some white light in order to be in the right place.?
Just then, Manny looked almost through me as he pointed to something behind me. ?I can see my wife and she is in a tunnel of light. Is that what you mean?? Manny was waiting for my approval.
?I think it must be, just go with it and see what happens. What have you got to lose?? Having said this, I couldn?t see what Manny could see, but I watched him walk through me and behind me, before he disappeared.
The whole apartment felt different from that moment on and I have not had any further ghostly episodes since. The only after effect being that I hate Frosty the Snowman!
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Source: http://write-link-creative-writing-contests.com/christmaschillers2012/the-white-light-angle/
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