"You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of the imagination. Next stop: THE TWILIGHT ZONE."

- Rod Serling

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Somewhere within the darkened hallways of the Steward Manor, lurks an entity seeking to claim his lost love, a love which can only be found by entering through a doorway into...The Twilight Zone!

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“Hey Nub, come inside, Dan wants to see you!” The older woman called out to me as I sat on the bale of straw. I was there to stake out my spot at the haunted manor that we had been setting up all week. I wanted to be the guy that jumps out at the people that come through the gate; I was waiting on the bunch inside to finish their cast meeting.

“Why?” I hollered back, as I reluctantly started to walk toward the old brick building. It was a historic home with a grim past, everyone in town said it was haunted. A group in town had permission to use it as a charity project and collect donations for our worthy cause; I was here because I just wanted to scare people as I had every year since I was old enough.

She never answered, preferring to wait until I got into the room where all of them were meeting. As I entered the room where they were meeting, all faces turned looked up. “So…what’s up?” I asked, looking curiously at them.

Dan sat up and folded his arms; he was a large man with big bushy sideburns. “This meeting is supposed to be an ALL cast meeting Nub, you are a part of that too so we’ll need your input as well. So, that being said, we have a problem.”

“Well whatever it is; I didn’t do it.” I replied honestly.

“We’ve been talking amongst ourselves and…well, you know we’re setting up the manor for Halloween and we still need someone to play the part of Natalie Steward.” He waited until his words sank into my brain.

“So? I thought Miss. Becky was going to be Natalie?” I asked, taking a seat at the table.

“She would have but she’s got kidney stones and had to have surgery this morning.” An older woman replied to the question about her sister. Becky was the right size, they would have had to get her to wear a wig or color her graying hair some.

“That sucks. I guess we’ll just get a new Natalie then.” I replied, seeing the logic of my suggestion.

“That’s the problem.” Dan sighed with frustration. “The manor opens up tomorrow night and we don’t have time to go out searching for another Natalie. Besides, Miss. Becky and one other person were small enough in our cast, to fit into the costume we have for Natalie.”

“Okay, so…get that person to be Natalie. There. Problem solved.” I laughed and looked at the seriousness on their faces. “Who’s the other person?”

“You…” Dan replied bluntly.

“Oh - hell no!” I shot back, “There is no way that I’m dressing up as some Victorian lady just so we can do our haunted manor! Hell no!” I snapped.

Mrs. Yarnell, Becky’s sister put her hand on my arm, “It’s the only thing we can do. Think of our charity, this is how we raise money for them every year! We can keep it quiet.”

“Not a freaking chance! Do you realize what my friends would say about or to me if word got out that I’m in here and dressed as Natalie? I’ll never live it down!” I threw my hands up and began to pace back and forth with anxious energy. “I’ll be a laughing stock!”

“They’ll never know. No one here will say anything, so your secret would be safe.” Another of the cast interjected, “We’re all friends here, and we can keep a lid on this.”

I stood with my mouth agape, looking from one to another in bewildered shock. “I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this!”

“We raised almost $13,000 last year in running the haunted manor; do you want to jeopardize that much money? Think about our charity? Think of all the good they could do with so much money?” Dan was standing now and practically pleading with me.

“You can just stop with the guilt anytime soon; I’ll do it damn it, but only because of what it would mean to the charity.” I folded my arms in frustration, scowling my displeasure over the entire situation. “Not a word of this gets out or I’m gone! Oh…and next year, the gate is mine!” I said with a wry smile, knowing that I had them over a barrel and they’d likely give me anything to play Natalie.

“It’s a deal!” Dan said, “For the duration of the Steward haunted manor, you’ll be Natalie. Next year, for doing this, you can have any dang part you want!”

With hesitation, I shook his hand as he extended it. I really didn’t want to do it but it may be a cool part, but I didn’t want them to know I was remotely close to being interested in doing it.

Early the next morning the cast scheduled to meet and get ourselves ready; Mrs. Yarnell was there to help me. “Sorry to hear about Miss. Becky’s surgery.” I said as I was helping her sister get boxes of vintage looking clothing from the back of her van.

After Mrs. Yarnell’s husband passed away, she and her sister moved in together to set up manor in an attempt to stay afloat in today’s economy. The older woman laughed as she stacked another box on the first I carried. “Doc told her to take it easy for the next couple weeks; she was sad to miss this year but hoped everyone would understand.”

“What did she say when she heard I was playing the role of Natalie?” I said with a laugh.

“She laughed when I told her, but told me to tell you to be careful.” Replied Mrs. Yarnell as she was pulling the dress carefully from the back seat.

“Careful? Why is that?” I asked as I walked with the boxes around to wait on her.

“Becky said that in the past, she’s been pinched on the rump and groped while playing that part.” She raised her penciled eyebrows and looked up at me.

“I guess I should expect that from people, with it being dark inside the manor and all. Folks will try just about anything in the dark.” I frowned and waited for her to lock up her car and retrieve a box she had sat on the roof. “They touch me and they’ll get a surprise; I’ll knock them in the head.”

She laughed, as she draped the dress over the box and began to walk. “Oh, I don’t think she meant the guests pinched or groped her.”

“Not the guests?” I asked, momentarily unsure, “You mean…ghosts?”

“Not all of them, Nub, just the one.” She said as she held the door for me to enter into the old home.

“That’s so cool! It’d be awesome to have a ghost touch me…sure it’d scare the hell out of me, but it’d be awesome!” I have always considered myself like a junior ghost hunter and actually given the chance to meet one, would just make my day! “So, who is it that she thinks is touching her while in costume?”

“Ephraim Steward, Natalie’s husband.” She said as I followed her into the room where the cast was to get ready. “Ep was very much in love with Natalie, when the war came he didn’t want to leave her here alone. When she disappeared during the battle, many folks thought that the Confederates had kidnapped and had their way with her.”

“That’d suck.” I replied sullenly and sat the boxes down, “I wasn’t aware that the Confederates got this far into town?”

“There were little skirmishes all over this part of town; it took the Union three days to push them out entirely.” She spoke as she hung the dress on an ornate hook in the wall.

“They never found her then?” I asked, not really knowing the entire story of Natalie Steward.

She shook her head, “Some think she was killed during the battle, some think she was kidnapped and killed by the Confederates, others think that Ep snuck her out during the battle and they ran off somewhere. They just never found her body.” She shrugged her shoulders and began to sort out items in the boxes.

“What became of Ep then?” I asked as I began to open the second box for her.

“Ep was reported ‘MIA’, Missing in Action late on the first day of fighting.” She calmly brushed out a petticoat and laid it aside.

“Then he wasn’t killed.” I suggested.

“No one really knows. In those days, many young men killed, were laid in a common grave if they couldn’t identify them. The ones identified, either were buried properly or sent to family back home.” She shook out a second petticoat with silken bows around its bottom and laid it too aside.

“So why do we even need Natalie? It seems like if she disappeared, she shouldn’t be around here.” I reminded her as I started to remove my present day clothing and got down to my boxers.

“A few years back, there were some folks here who do the paranormal investigations that got some voice recordings that they thought might be from Natalie, of course there were many years of folks that it could have been.”

“No kidding? That is so cool, what did they say?” I asked, shivering as she handed me bloomers to pull over my boxers. “I love those paranormal investigation shows!”

She laughed, “I don’t remember what was said, but the people say they heard whispering, knocks and bangs; you know, the usual haunted stuff.”

“Residual haunting then…” I replied, trying to sound knowledgeable as I struggled into the satiny corset and waited while she began to lace it.

“I really don’t know…what I do know though is we had better get a move on or we will never get you ready.” She pulled at the strings tightly then worked the slack from the laces and drew it tightly again. Once she was satisfied, she handed me a long, plain cotton shirt.

As I was pulling it over my head, I felt the constriction from the corset as it drew in my waist and prevented much movement. The shirt covered my arms and was squared off at the bust; with the help of the corset it gave the viewer an illusion of youthful breasts, even to the point of believable cleavage. The sleeves were slightly wider just before the cuff and gave a billowy, feminine appearance.

The waist of the shirt ended at mid thigh, apparent that it was intended to be worn beneath a dress. As I was thankful that our conversation was taking my mind away from the character I was about to play, it still irked me that I had to go through it at all.

Mrs. Yarnell handed me a white pair of boots, they had a three inch heel and laces from the toe to the top. “I sure hope these fit, they were the biggest size that Becky had. Go ahead and put them on, it’ll be easier to do now before the petticoats and dress go on.”

I took them from her and pushed my foot into it, while tight; it was still comfortable enough to wear for awhile. Working the button hooks, I drew it tight and stood. “It feels about like wearing a cowboy boot.” I commented as I walked a few steps. “A little higher than I’m used to, but I think I’ll survive.”

I turned and Mrs. Yarnell handed me the first of two petticoats, “Step into the center, pull it up and tie it off to the ringlets at the bottom of your corset.” I did as she bid and with her help, I tied it off. Quickly following the first, I drew up the second of the petticoats and began tying it off.

“What you planning on doing about the hair?” I asked as she tied the last string to the ringlet in the back of the corset. “That’s what the box I carried in is for; but I have to wait until you are done with makeup.”

Both of the petticoats were long and almost touched the floor, the second one being slightly longer with white silken lace bows around the bottom. As I was studying the clothing I wore, she got the dress from the hook and held it out for me.

“Put your head into the hole and thread your arms into the sleeves.” I follow her instructions as she worked it down over my shoulders and gently guided its copious material over the petticoats.

It had a strange color to it, silken and yet almost resembled the reflective material of an old time movie screen. “Why does the color look so strange?”

“That’s Dan’s doing. The lighting upstairs has weird effects on the dress; it almost makes it blend in with the background better.” She knelt down and fluffed and billowed out the bottom. The dress ended in lace, slightly shorter than the second petticoat, allowing the silken bows to show.

“Cool, sort of makes me transparent; like a real ghost.” I smiled, thinking of the scares I was going to give our visitors.

“That’s his hope; you never really know until we get it under those lights.” She said as she made me slowly turn.

As I was standing there, a chubby lady walked in and sat a small suitcase on a desk. “This is Mary; she’s volunteered to do our makeup for us this year.” I groaned because I had never met Mary before and as sure as poop stinks; she’ll blab my identity out and I’ll be had!

“Just relax, Mary said, I know the reason you were asked and I could care less. Sit down; I don’t have much time to waste.” She spoke coldly and pointed to a chair beside the desk.

I sat down as she stood and opened up a jar, “Close your mouth and eyes; hold still.”

I closed my eyes and waited as she spread the strange substance all over my face and neck; even to the point of coating my ears and eyelids. After several minutes she sat the jar down, “Okay now, you can open your eyes.” Mary said as she began to spread the strange substance on my neck and chest right up to where the dress began.

My eyelids felt heavy and strange as I opened them. She finished and turned back toward her suitcase, “Look up”, she said as she turned back and approached my eye with a tube of white.

“Wait a minute, what’s that?” I asked, pulling away from her advance.

“It’s just white mascara; it’ll make your lashes feminine looking but eerily white.” She began to stroke the little brush up my lashes, coating them with the white substance. “It’ll make you look ghostly; but to keep them feminine.”

“I don’t know if I should be glad or what at that comment.” I groused as she continued to apply it to my eyes, both upper lashes and lower until they looked like a weed in heavy frost.

Above my eyes, she dusted them with a smoky gray powder, and then smoothed it out using a cotton swab. She wiped a small dab between my pectoral muscles, and then spread it out, the illusion it gave was that I possessed cleavage greater than I had wearing the tight corset. She then turned to working on my cheeks, “With the blueness of your eyes, this will give you a real ghostly appearance.”

“Can I see?” I asked.

“Not just yet Nub, I have to do your lips first.” She gently lined my mouth with a gray pen, “You have very nice lips for a guy.” As she spoke, she began to paint a liquid over my lips, making them only slightly darker than what was on my skin.

“This liquid will dry slightly shiny, but has mixed with the darker gray liner and will be a decent contrast between your skin and lips. She stepped back and admired her work, reached behind her and pulled from the suitcase a pair of dangling Victorian era earrings which were clipped onto my earlobes.

“She looks pretty good if I do say so myself.” Mary said as looked over her shoulder toward Mrs. Yarnell. “It’s a good thing for us that you had such a slender build.”

“It’s uncanny the resemblance.” She said slowly shaking her head. “I don’t think you should fear any about being found out.”

“Let’s get the hair on our Natalie.” Mary spoke as Mrs. Yarnell opened the box and removed a wig. “Whoa, that’s really dark!”

“I know, but it’s the only one the store had that would fit in the Victorian time period.” She said as she removed the little Styrofoam form from beneath the wig and handed it to Mary.

“It’ll be okay, I have some spray that will make it suitable and more believable to suit our purpose.” She reached into the suitcase and removed a spray can and slowly rotated the wig as she sprayed. After about ten minutes of spraying, she seemed satisfied and pronounced it complete.

As soon as she felt it was dry enough, she added spirit gum to the edges and carefully placed it on my head; being sure to completely cover my own hair. Smiling she raised herself up, “I present, Lady Natalie Steward!”

“Hello.” Someone whispered from the hall, we all turned toward the doorway, there was nobody there. Mrs. Yarnell walked to the hall and peered out to see who had called us.

“There’s no one there!” She said, looking slightly afraid.

“Cool, our first actual paranormal experience!” I said, my voice uncharacteristically coming out of this feminine looking body.

“I’m betting one of the other guys did it and just wants to frighten us!” Mary said as she began to push my sleeves up enough to use the white pasty substance on my arms. “It was probably Dan or one of the other cast members.”

“Maybe, but…wouldn’t it be cool if it wasn’t?” I said with a smile.

“You better start using a more feminine voice and mannerisms or you’re going to be caught by someone you know!”

I practiced for a few minutes under both of their direction, finally they were satisfied that I was as good as I would ever get. Using my ‘new’ voice, I slowly walked out into the hallway. “Hello?” I cooed syrupy, the dress I wore rustling with each step.

I heard the front door close, I turned quickly, startled to see Dan walk in. “Whoa, you look creepy!” He said upon seeing me, “I’d never have thought you were anything but a girl; damn Mary sure did a job on you! You look a hundred percent female”

“That’s good to know.” I said keeping within my character. “Now, where am I to steak out for the night of haunting?”

“There’s a bedroom upstairs that was hers, that’s where our ‘guests’ should see her. I got all the lighting set up and ready last night so all we have to do is start.” He said pointing in the general direction.

“Can I go on in?” I asked, “Maybe I can figure out something to do as the visitors go filing past.

“Becky always just sat at the vanity and combed her hair…it always worked for her.” He replied as we both began to walk toward the stairs, Mrs. Yarnell and Mary started working on her costume, it was quite elaborate but not as much as the one I had on. Mrs. Yarnell was the cast member who would be taking donations out front.

Dan walked me up the stairs and pointed toward the bedroom, “That’s the room. Let’s go see how the lighting is on that dress.”

“Thanks!, this is going to be so awesome!” I said using my own voice, then laughed as Dan quickly looked up at me.

“You better watch that sort of slip up; keeping this under wraps will only work if you don’t screw it up!” He shook his head as I nodded and walked in behind me.

“You almost fade into the walls, it’s not the greatest, but it’ll do fairly well!” He said smiling at me. “I’m putting a velvet rope across the doorway, it’ll keep our visitors out of the room; just remember to remove it before you walk out or you’ll fall flat on your face.” In the dim light from the hallway, I watched him place the posts just outside the door, as he hooked the rope he waved and slowly walked back down the stairs to get himself ready.

Toward the back of the room I walked, entering the dress gently swaying as I moved. The lighting was eerie and cast odd darkened shadows across everything. A thick woven rug surrounded the bed, beyond that the wood flooring gleamed against the dim lighting. I slowly walked into the room and stood at the foot of her big four poster bed. “Hello?” I whispered, feeling suddenly stupid for calling out in the first place.

After hearing nothing I strolled over to the vanity, my heart skipping a beat at my reflection before realizing it was just me in makeup. I sat down at Natalie’s chair and studied myself in her mirror. While I cast a spooky image, there was still a strange inner beauty that I felt somewhat pleased with.

I smiled at myself coyly, “I guess if you have to be Natalie, you should be the best there ever was.”

“Natalie.” I heard the whisper, slow and drawn out; the mere sound of it created goose flesh upon my arms and the hair to rise upon my neck.

“Hello?” I asked softly, hoping that someone was actually trying to prank me. Inwardly, although it frightened me somewhat, I was strangely excited by the possibility of actual witnessing real paranormal activity.

I checked my fear and slowly turned to face the center of the room, “If you are hear with me, I don’t mind.” I said softly, keeping in character. I sat for a few seconds and listened, the only sound I heard was the cast getting ready for our haunting to begin.

“Go ahead and touch me, I won’t mind.” I whispered, peering into the eerily lit room, hoping to see, but afraid of seeing those shadow figures from the all the ghost shows.

I slowly turned my back to the room, hoping this sign of trust would enable the spirits in the manor to come forward. My eyes feared looking into her mirror, afraid that they would show someone in the room with me.

In direct contrast, the ghost hunter in me prayed that the darkness would reveal an apparition I so wanted to see. I began to fumble with a brush that was laying on the vanity, play acting and preening in the mirror. I tipped my head to the side, pretending to run the brush through my hair as something very cold touched the exposed side of my neck, just below the earrings. I froze, in mid-brush I hesitated and grew still.

“Did you just touch me?” I asked the empty room. I slowly reached up and touched the area where I felt the coldness. “Who is here with me?” I asked aloud, still maintaining my character thinking that if there is a ghost, they make think of me as Natalie.

I slowly turned around and gazed into the area behind me, no one was there. I was alone.

“Can you do that again?” I asked, closing my eyes and exposing my neck once again. I was offering myself up to be my very own trigger object. “Do that again! I don’t mind.” I pleaded; trying to make my voice sound as feminine as possible.

Once again the cold chill fell upon my neck, almost like two icy fingers gently touched the skin there. As I let my mind dwell on what I had just experienced, I realized that it wasn’t fingers that I felt but rather a kiss, tender and affectionate.

“Did you just kiss my neck?” I asked the silent room, “Do it again.” I whispered, using my own encounter as my experiment, bending my head to the side and once again offering my neck to my unseen visitor.

Once again I felt the strange coldness from ghostly lips, there could be no other explanation but the feeling of someone kissing my neck. This time though, the cold feeling was also low onto the wide area of my chest, as if an icy hand were place upon the surface of my skin.

“Whoa!” I squealed and stood, automatically touching the cold spots where I felt the touch, the chair I had been sitting in fell backward onto the floor.

I began to pace the room, “This is completely amazing! I can’t believe I’m actually experiencing the paranormal!” I said in a whisper, my voice soft and barely audible.

I heard boots upon the floorboard in the hall, looking up; Dan peeked into the room, he was dressed like a Confederate cavalryman. “You all settled in?”

“I think so. What if we need to use the restroom while we are at our post haunting?” I asked, trying to not look so nervous.

“We’ll have a ten minute break every two hours, if you have to pee, you’ll need to hold it until then.” He waited for a second, “If you don’t have any more questions, I’ll be going. Have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, thanks!” I said as he was clumping down the hallway. The room grew strangely quiet; I sighed deeply and stood at the side of the bed, bending ever so slightly in the confined embrace of the corset and standing the chair back up. Moving to the window, I tried to see how long the lines were of the visitors buying tickets. Since it was still slightly light outside, the lines were not very long at all.

Through the course of the ‘tour’ that the guides were giving, I knew that I wouldn’t see anyone for almost a half hour. Sitting down on the big four poster bed I smoothed out the dress I wore and waited patiently, my mind still recalling the strangeness of my assumed kiss. I thought I’d attempt to make contact once again, even though I feared what could or would happen.

“Are you still in the room with me?” I asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

“Yessssss.” A voice nearby seemed to whisper, it was long and drawn out and ended up sounding much like the hiss of a snake.

“Are you Natalie Steward?” I whispered, almost fearing the answer.

“No.” The voice sounded as though it came from beside me, but I was seated on the bed…and alone.

“Are you Ephraim?” I wondered aloud. Almost as soon as I finished, I heard a knock on the wall. “Did you just knock? Can you do it again?”

Silence, nothing moved. I looked around me and everything appeared the same, outside I could hear more and more people lining up at the entrance to the haunt; their talking and laughter muted only by the distance. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the external sounds; only concentrating on the noise from this room.

Suddenly, there was a jarring of the bed; strong enough to cause me to feel it. It was almost as if someone had sat on the other side. With hesitation, I looked over my shoulder. If I tried to convince myself hard enough, I thought I could just make out the imprint that someone might make if they sat on the bed.

“Ephraim?” I asked softly, “Did you just sit down on the bed?”

The bed suddenly moved again, almost like whoever had been seated, now stood up. I again looked back of me, the indent was gone. “Shit!” I hissed in complete amazement.

Walking at the end of the hallway caused me to turn and face the door; several people were milling in the hall peering into the rooms. I took a position at the end of the bed, one hand on the post. As I stood waiting for them to pass, I felt a strange cold chill racing down my back, slightly around my waist and ending at what should be my breasts.

Before I could respond, the people were just outside the room I was in; the icy grasp was not forceful at all. It felt as though I was in the gentle hug of a lover, it was quite odd to say the least. I could feel the chilly grasp slowly manipulating my left pectoral as though my unseen visitor was caressing a woman’s breast.

I waited to move until after the group passed, in the hallway I heard one of them say, “That was Natalie’s room. She was pretty cool, better than last year?”

Another voice in the hall responded, “Yeah, I saw her, but…who’s the dude then?”

As soon as I could no longer hear them, I broke away from where I stood and spun to face my chilly visitor. “Not funny, not funny at all!” I spat, and pointed toward the nothingness that faced me.

“Are you Ephraim?” I asked out loud and into the silence once again.

My heart skipped as a shadow passed along the wall, the lighting from the hall outlining him in a definition that seemed unfathomable to me at the time. “Holy…” I gasped at the silhouette, the definite shape of a man in period vintage military clothing and not as large as Dan.

“Okay, now that was awesome!” I gushed, wishing that I had thought to bring a camera with me.

In the corner of the room a mist appeared, soft flowing edges seemed to dance in the darkened corner of the room. My eyes grew wide as I realized what I was seeing, but was it the same specter as the one who has been touching me? As it took on a more human shape, it suddenly shot across the room directly toward me. I fell backward against the post, unable to back away any further as it neared closer.

My breathing grew rapid, I’m sure my eyes were as large as saucers, the apparition stopping only inches from my face. I pressed my head into the ornate wooden post that held me from running away, coldness lightly touched my chin. I could feel what seemed to be a hand as it held my face, icy lips gently began to touch my own.

I couldn’t talk, fear racing throughout my mind and yet I felt amazement for the personal paranormal experience I was having. I could feel what could only be described as a hand against the pseudo swell of my breast, and then the kisses I had once felt on my lips began to return to my neck.

I began to pant uncontrollably, each breath forcing soft plums of icy vapor into the room. More sounds of people walking were heard growing louder outside the room in the hallway, their voices commenting as they looked in and eventually passed.

“Now that was pretty spooky!” One voice said.

“I wonder how they did it.” A female answered.

“It’s all done with lighting.” The first replied.

“I could swear that I could see right through the guy!” She said as they continued beyond earshot.

At that moment I realized that I no longer felt the visitor at my neck, its cold touch vacant from my body. Regaining my voice I slowly backed toward the door and pointed into the room, my thin arm swinging from one location to the next. “That kind of touching is going just a bit too far!”

I put my hands on my hips and frowned, “Lucky me to get the one room with a grabby apparition!”

I felt a tap on my shoulder, its suddenness startled me, I quickly spun around! “Holy Shit!” I squealed. Thankfully, Mrs. Yarnell was standing in the hallway.

“A few of our guests that passed through the manor have commented that you are the best Natalie we’ve had by far!” She laughed at my reaction and gave my shoulder a pat, “Becky will be so proud of you stepping in for this role!”

“Uh...thanks, I guess.” I said as I nervously stared back into the room.

“I have just one question for you, who is the guy that they are seeing you with?” She asked softly and peered into the room over my shoulder.

“That’s just what I’d like to know.” I replied also looking within the dimly lit room.

“Oh?” She wondered, quickly looking at me.

“There’s a ghost in this room; I’ve seen it with my own eyes!” I whispered softly, “It hasn’t really hurt me at all, but it has touched me.”

“Do you want me to get Dan?” She asked, hesitantly looking into the room further.

“No, I think I’ll be okay. It hasn’t done any harm and I doubt it will; so far, it’s only touched me a bit. I’ll just have to keep my guard up.” I frowned and folded my arms, studying the area where I had seen the apparition form.

“Well be careful!” She advised, and then quickly turned her head toward the stairs, “Sounds like more people are coming, so I guess I should be getting back to my post.” She turned and walked toward the group approaching, giving them an anemic haunting wail as she passed. They laughed, and then began to playfully mock her as they approached my room.

I stepped back into the darkness, my heels tapping against the wood floor and stood quietly waiting until they slowed outside of the room. As they peered in, I quickly moved toward them with a menacing look. Two of them screamed but I’m sure it was more from my sudden appearance than actually being frightened. As they were moving away, one boy hesitated and waived the rest of his group on.

“What’s your name?” He said, leaning against the jam of the door and looking in.

“Natalie.” I replied, staying in character and backing into the shadows enough so he couldn’t get a good look at my face.

“No, not who you’re supposed to be; your real name.” He smiled, trying to appear cute.

“I don’t have a real name. I’m a ghost, remember?” I replied back, attempting to sound coy.

“I’ll find out who you are.” He said as he grinned, “Do you go to school around here?”

“There’s no school for us ghosts.” I said back in my best spooky whisper.

“Well Natalie, I’d like to ask you out…but if you aren’t interested…” He broke off his sentence, trying to give me an opportunity to answer his offer.

“I already have a boyfriend.” I answered with a smile. “Perhaps you know him?”

“What’s his name, maybe I DO know him?” He smiled at me, trying to look handsome.

“His name is Ephraim.” I said slowly, almost hissing out the name, trying to be ghostly as possible.

The boy’s smile slowly faded away altogether, his eyes grew wide and he began to back away. Once his movement backward is stopped abruptly against the wall, he turned and began to run on down the hall. Almost as soon as he turned, I saw a wispy mist exit the room and turn in the same direction that he had.

I walked toward the door and into the direction where the boy ran, there was no one in the hallway so he must have ran completely down the exit stairs to the outside. Turning back into the room, I hurried to the window where I pulled aside the curtain and gazed outside.

It was dark; in the lamplight I could see people still in line. Several people were looking up and saw me, I could see them talking to each other. A few of them waived up at me, I demurely waved and as ghostly as possible, and allowed the curtain to fall once again.

Nothing else really happened to me for the rest of that night; my break came and allowed me to go to the bathroom. It was quite interesting going into a porta-john wearing several extra layers of the costume and still pee; I ended up holding most of the dress under my chin and hoping and praying that I was hitting the little trough at its side.

I decided for myself at that moment that a girl during the Victorian period had quite a rough go of it regarding bodily functions. On top of just going to the bathroom, she had to deal with the tight corset allowing her room to do almost nothing.

Thankfully, at midnight the manor closed for the evening and I retreated to the downstairs dressing rooms where Mary helped me remove all the makeup I wore. Mrs. Yarnell was there to assist me in removing the costume I had on. I headed out once I was me again, and got a ride to home with Dan since he only lived about a block from me and was going that way anyway.

I couldn’t sleep, no matter what I did my mind kept retracing all of the events that happened over the evening there in the Steward manor. When I closed my eyes, I would see the shadows and feel the icy touches from whatever haunted that room.

I laughed to myself at the poor misguided ghost of Ep, obviously thinking I was Natalie, dressed the way I was. It was like I was some sort of giant trigger object, and the others of the cast dressed the way they were, seemed to fuel all of the happenings within that room.

I rolled onto my side, pulling my covers up over my shoulder, one arm slid under the cool pillow. I remember thinking or reading somewhere that a scientist was trying to describe the reason why we are able to see ghosts, by saying that time does not follow a straight line. He likened it to a coiled spring with each era existing within one single coil and surmised that if you are seeing ghosts, you are actually viewing outside of your own coil and into another.

It was quite a deep way of thinking and it left me wondering perhaps they can view us as well? If you take credence to that scientists theory, should they view ghosts in their own era ‘coil’ they just might be seeing into ours, mistaking us for ghosts.

I was determined to not make the same mistake tomorrow as I had today, I would go to the manor, prepared to discover just who was in the room with me. Too much serious thinking left my poor brain exhausted; I rolled onto my back and slowly began drifting off to sleep all the while wondering what tomorrow might bring to this young paranormal ghost hunter.

The following afternoon, I filled my backpack with what I felt were essential items; a twenty ounce coke, a digital recorder, flashlight and my digital camera. Determined to be a ‘real’ paranormal ghost hunter like those I watched on TV, I wanted to be able to see and document whatever I found in that room; perhaps answering the question I had burning in my mind. Just what happened to Natalie and Ep?

Parking my bicycle at the side of the manor, I leaned it against the brick wall and walked around to the front entrance. I easily slipped past the cast members who were already there, making my way to the room and stashed the backpack I had carried with me between the vanity and the bed.

Once there, I began to search for a place to sit my digital recorder. Straight to the vanity I moved, I sat it down and pressed record. I was hopeful on catching some electronic voices made by the ghosts, which I suspected were in the room with me. I knew I would have enough battery unless the ghosts would drain it to use for their own manifestations.

I smiled, amazed that I was beginning to even think like an actual paranormal investigator. Carefully, I pushed it to the side so it could be hidden from the guests of our haunt. In a corner out of the way I sat my camera, flashlight and soda. Each item placed out of view, but within reach in the event I would need them.

Once I had everything where I wanted it, I retreated to ready myself in my Natalie costume. I knew what to expect once I walked into the room, as both Mary and Mrs. Yarnell was waiting on me. I took a seat and watched Mrs. Yarnell line up my costume, Mary began to prepare me for makeup.

“I heard you were quite good last night.” Mary commented as she smoothed the white powder out on my skin. “Many thought you were the spookiest of the entire cast.”

“That’s cool.” I replied calmly.

“Did you experience anything weird in the room?” Mary wondered aloud.

“Not too much, at least I could handle what I did have happen.

“I’d have run from the room screaming if I would have been touched like you said.” Mrs. Yarnell added.

“It just feels really cold.” I said with a shrug.

“No thank you sir! I’d fill my shorts if I were touched; like she said, I’d run from the room screaming to high heavens!”

I laughed and shrugged, wanting them to quit their yapping and get me done so I could investigate my room some more. After what seemed like the better part of an hour, I was done and thankfully released from my imposed prison.

As I walked out into the hall, Dan was entering for his turn at makeup, “I saw you rode your bike today; afraid of my driving?”

“No, I just am trying to get some good paranormal ghost voices on my digital recorder and I wanted to get home as soon as possible so I can copy them into my hard drive and see what I have.” I smiled, knowing Dan would appreciate my efforts.

“Let me know if you get anything. I’m a little miffed that I didn’t think of it.” He said with a frown.

“There’s always tomorrow.” I reminded him.

“That’s true, thanks for the idea.” He smiled as he headed in to take my vacated seat, allowing me time to scurry up the stairs as fast as I could in a dress and heels.

As soon as I stepped back into the room dressed as Natalie, the air changed remarkably; growing charged with a strange uneasy feeling. I quickly checked on the equipment I had left; everything appeared working in perfect order. I peeked out the window, the light outside was slowly dimming, being a Friday night; I had a feeling it would be quite busy.

As the evening progressed and dusk turned to night, I would take images with my digital camera at each down moment I could. Even as well prepared as I thought I was, I captured nothing on my camera. I only hoped I’d catch something on my digital voice recorder but it would have to wait until after we closed before I got a chance to listen to it.

I thought about how I would download the voice file into my hard drive once I got home and run it through the new program I purchased. It would probably take me a full day to go over all of the tape, just to catch one hopeful ghost voice.

So far though, I hadn’t heard much of anything; but that is the way it is with the paranormal. Sometimes you don’t think you have a thing until you are going over your equipment and then, WHAM! You get a class A electronic voice phenomenon; and that is what I hope and pray happens tonight.

During one quiet lull, I sat on the bed and asked questions, hoping beyond hope that I would get an answer on the recorder by the vanity. I heard no sounds; the room seemed as void as it looked. I frowned in frustration, thinking that if I would only have had my equipment on that first day, I would have had several perfect examples by now.

The evening wound down toward our midnight closing, I dejectedly gathered my belongings and headed toward the door, fearing that I had nothing on my recorder; especially when the only sounds I had heard all evening was the occasional knock somewhere within the room or footstep across the floor.

Picking up my bag and heading toward the door, I stepped off of the woven rug and felt my right ankle roll slightly under me due to the heels I was wearing and the difference in height of the rug. Losing my balance in the darkened room, I fell forward. While I was able to get my arms out to catch my fall, I still struck my head against the narrow edge of the opened door as both arms fell on each side of it. With a painful groan, I collapsed in a heap on the floor; my mind swirling in a quick envelope of darkness.

Rolling over slowly, I painfully raised myself to my elbows and gradually sat up. Feeling the area of my head that I struck, I could tell that a knot had already formed. I turned so I could lean against the wall and try to gather my bearings; the intense pain caused my head to throb.

I gingerly touched my sprained ankle, it wasn’t too bad, but I could feel it slowly growing warm. I gradually attempted to stand, but the dizziness would not allow it and I ending up sinking back to the floor. I groaned and gently massaged the knot as I rested my head in the palms of my hands. Instantly I resisted the urge to vomit, forcing my self to breath deeply was the only thing that would alleviate the nauseous feeling.

I began to test for evidence of blood on my forehead, thankfully there wasn’t any; I just had a horrendous egg on my head. Gradually, I fought through another fearful bout of nauseous stomach, I was so afraid I’d vomit all over the costume I had on.

In all of the years of playing sports and being knocked around, I had never taken a shot like I had into that door. From the symptoms I was having, a concussion wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility. And with my own mother being a nurse, I knew that I must remain alert and get help as soon as I could gather my wits about me.

Slowly crawling toward the bed, I pulled myself up using the corner post and held on until my head mercifully quit its swimming. Testing my ankle, gently rotating it back and forth, I realized that thankfully, it wasn’t damaged as badly as I had first suspected although it did hurt. Perhaps those old high button vintage shoes that I was wearing saved me some of the damage to my ankle.

I looked back toward the doorway, the hall looked eerily darker. I gradually tested my foot by taking a step toward the exit; still hanging onto the post for balance. Feeling relatively better, I slowly limped my way toward the door, retrieving my bag from where I had fallen.

At the door I hesitated, peering into the darkness beyond me; it almost looked as though the lights had been turned off. “Hello” I called out softly at first. “Hello!” Calling even louder, so anyone down in the dressing rooms or hall could hear me.

“I need help, I’ve hurt myself!” I shouted.

I limped back toward the bed and sat my bag down, and began searching the pockets for my cell phone. In the very bottom I located it but upon checking; I found the battery was dead. I tossed it back, angry at myself for leaving it in there and on, since class last week

Limping toward the window and pulling aside the curtain I looked down; there was no one moving in the darkness outside. “Oh, this is not good.” I groaned softly, “How long did I lay on the floor?.

I hobbled back toward the bed and started searching in the bag for my flashlight, once I found it, I turned it on and slowly slung the bag onto my shoulder. Once again I headed toward the door, the light I carried illuminating the way.

Almost as soon as I turned, the light began to dim as if it was slowly loosing power. “Just great!” I groused, slapping the light with the heel of my hand hoping that would somehow make it begin working better.

“Note to self, remember to replace the batteries…you idiot!” I hissed, retracing my steps back toward the bed and throwing the useless item back into the bag.

As I turned toward the door once again, I felt a sudden chill wash over me. Standing at the foot of the bed, I hesitated in the darkness of the room, suddenly fearful of being alone in what I felt was a real haunted manor.

Without looking, I reached behind me and sought the strap of my bag, afraid of taking my eyes off the doorway and took a step toward the door; gently pulling the bag from the bed by the material in my hand.

An icy chill on my chest stopped me in my tracks; it almost felt as though an unseen hand was impeding my progress. “Now you show up.” I sighed, and mentally prodded myself to stepping through.

Suddenly it was as though a second hand was held against my chest, trying to push me backward by ghostly force. I started to take another step when all of the sudden, I was pitched backward onto the bed, the bag flying onto the floor nearby.

I sat up quickly and attempted to stand, once again I was forced back suddenly, falling onto the coverlet. Quickly spinning toward the side, I tried to roll off, but my feet were thrown back; I could feel the unseen hands as they had closed around the shoes.

My eyes darted toward the opposite edge of the bed, trying to peer into the darkness attempting to locate my spectral visitor. A hand on my back startled me; I screamed rather girlishly and scrambled toward the pillows. Picking up one, and holding it out in front of me as if it were a shield.

Icy fingers seemed to grasp hold of my legs, just above the shoes I was wearing; I felt a jarring tug, strong enough to fall backward and land my head in the pillows. I struggled up and swung the pillow hard; it flung across the room and struck the wall leaving me unsure whether I lost my grip or it had been torn from me.

At the foot of the bed, it began to sink down as though someone was climbing into it. I unconsciously pulled my feet backward; trying to avoid my advancing guest. Someone or something was on the bed with me; slowly crawling up the coverlet with each passing second.

“That’s far enough!” I gasped into the darkness as one of several hairpins in the wig I wore fell into my lap. I picked it up as a second and third fell, the hair from the wig dropping down as they were removed.

Several more fell onto the bedding, the hair began to cascade down in vast amounts, held only to my head by the wigs lining. “Look, leave me alone! I’m not Natalie!” I wined; my knees slowly began to move away from each other with an unseen force.

Slowly I was forced backward into the pillows, unable to sit up as though something was holding me fast to the bed. “Don’t. Please don’t!” I cried as icy kisses fell on my neck and chest.

I tried to use my arms to regain a seated position but one at a time, each was pressed back into the pillows as if they were being held. The icy kisses climbed my neck and began to fall onto my own lips, I began to struggle and move my head aside and free myself.

As I fought for my freedom, my entire body suddenly was pushed into the pillows, released, and then pushed into them again. After the third series of this strange feeling, I realized that my ghostly attacker was in their own way; making love to me.

Again and again it pushed into me; the movement began to rock the bed and caused the high canopy to gently sway under the repeated momentum. I tried to remove myself from what was happening to me but something held me against the bed, its continued repetition causing the wood to creak and groan.

I could not believe this was happening to me, icy open mouthed kisses pressing me with their unbridled love, forcing my own tongue into battle. With each thrust upward in the bed, my breath was forced outward; compressed in a way that I had no business experiencing.

My knees were slowly pulled upward, the icy chill evident that the specter wanted them there. I rose up onto my elbows once I realized that my hands were free; all the while the repetitive pressing into me continued though it was growing faster and faster.

I couldn’t help it, my breathing began racing as even though the room was chilled due to the apparition, leaving in little plumes of vapor as I exhaled. Sweat started to bead on my exposed chest; faster and faster the ghostly apparition pounded into me, as strange little tingles seemed to envelope me. I could almost feel the movement of something within me, riding back and forth causing a strange unfamiliar sensation somewhere deep inside my body.

The apparition above me shook slightly; its rhythm seemed to hesitate before once again continuing its assault. I felt a strangeness wash over me, my chin pushed hard against my chest as the odd tingling permeated outward into my thighs and stomach.

Again my ghostly specter lost his rhythm, hesitating only slightly before continuing, only the strokes seemed to grow slower and deeper with each downward thrust. I pressed my head backward into the pillows; a strange mournful gasp escaped my open mouth.

I felt him penetrate into me deeply, my head halting at the uppermost region of the bed; my knees began to shake uncontrollably as an erotic sensation coursed throughout my body. I felt my back arch upward, the tingling washing into my chest and arms; leaving me breathless as it ran its course.

As soon as that feeling coursed through me, I felt an icy flow down deep inside me. The bed shuddered as the strange feeling continued, the chilly throbbing pulsing within my body.

I closed my eyes as I tried to catch my breath, the tingling of what could only be an orgasm swelled again and again in my stomach. Its repetition washed throughout me, leaving me exhausted and weak in its wake.

I lay still reveling in my experience for what only felt a moment, and slowly opened my eyes. The room was washed in daylight; voices slowly came to my ears. I sat up and hurried to the window and pulled the curtain aside, hearing what sounded like thunder off in the distance.

The sun shone brightly, giving an illusion that conflicted with the approaching storm. There were no clouds in the sky, several of the cast members were milling about on the sun dappled sidewalk, still in their costumes. I backed away and let the curtain fall, hesitating only at what I had just noticed, and it caused me to look again. Somehow the curtain material on the window had changed pattern, even the color was more of a cream than the stark white ones that were there just yesterday.

I sat at the vanity and stared in confusion, trying to reason in my mind the color change. As I glanced into the mirror, I mulled what I had thought I had experienced during the night, knowing full well that the concussion was the obvious culprit for what had happened. As I sat in deep thought, I found myself staring into the mirror; the wig I wore was down the hair was behind my shoulders. I turned slightly and pulled at what I thought was the hair that spilled behind me; only it wasn’t loose and tangled, it was drawn and woven in a very long braid.

I frantically loomed into the mirror for a closer look; the hair was no longer altered to reflect my ghostly costume but instead was dark and felt very clean. I fell back into the chair and sat perplexed, drumming my fingers on the vanity’s shiny surface. Realizing that I no longer had the pale makeup on my arm, I again glanced up and into the mirror; my skin was pale and very smooth looking. I stood and focused into the mirror with a panic, my eyes no longer looked like those I had remembered seeing only yesterday.

My lashes were long and curved upward, each eye was large and very doe like. My eyebrows were thin and arched; evident of meticulous grooming and shaping. Still in disbelief I stood and threw aside the curtain, watching a buggy slowly roll past, the horse’s hooves clopping against the cobblestone street below.

I raced to the side of the large bed, my bag no longer lying where it had fallen last night. Bounding over the bed and back to the mirror I again looked into my reflection with abject fear, the clothing I had on only yesterday was gone replaced a long white sleeping gown, it was all that I wore. Outside, the steady roll of thunder seemed to forecast my very mood, as the fear of what was possibly happening to me flooded my brain.

Bending over the surface of the vanity, my astonished eyes were pulled directly into the fissure between pert youthful breasts. I dropped into the chair like a stone, my hands cupping the female protuberances in sheer terror.

“This cannot be happening!” I gasped in shock, my voice now matching the strange body I seemed to be in. “Wake up…please wake up!”

My hands flew to the area between my thighs, it was flat and void of any male organ as I remembered. Pulling at the cloth of the gown, I hiked it upward to my hips; the lack of underwear of any sort left little to be hidden. “This is a dream; just a dream…it’s not real!”

I spun in terror and raced into the hallway barefoot, down the stairs two at a time until I paused to gather my wits at the bottom. I made a beeline directly to the room we were using for our costume changes, and throwing aside the door I was confronted by what looked like a den or office.

“No...No…no! I cried out, “This can’t happen; it’s impossible!” Suddenly remembering where I left my bike against the wall, I raced to the door and out onto the great porch. The sun shone brightly, the trees dappled the walkway on that warm summer day.

Racing along the side of the manor, I rounded the corner where I had last seen my bike and came to a sudden halt. Nothing was there, only a planter containing flowers, which had not been there yesterday.

Far off into the distance, a loud boom echoed. There were several on the street who quickly turned and looked into the direction the sound came from. Just a mere block away, there was a massive explosion, hurling bricks out into the street.

I raced back into the house, up the stairs and to the window in Natalie’s room. Beyond the brick strewn road, a fire raged out of control; people were racing into town past the manor in a panic. Looking through the smoke and flame, I could just make out several hundred grey clad soldiers advancing from the south.

“No! I don’t want to live this life!” I cried, realizing for the first time what was unfolding before my terrified eyes.

I raced back out into the hall and down the stairs, and toward the rear of the manor I ran. As I was bounding out the kitchen door, I was suddenly grabbed and pulled to the ground; a hand clamped down over my mouth.

A man dressed in Union blue whispered in my ear, “Its okay Nat, I have you.” I looked up into his kind eyes; he smiled and gradually released his hold on me. “It’s me, Ep.”

He gently helped me to my feet and pulled me along a wall between the houses, using them for cover. “Ephraim?” I asked, still unbelieving in the strangeness of the dream I was in. “How?”

He looked back, “I lit out so I could find you before the Reb’s did. We don’t have time to spare; they’re coming down the street right now!”

He hurried me along, carrying me often over rough terrain since I had no shoes on my feet. After we crossed over several streets; using bushes and buildings to head north, he threw me onto the back of his horse he had hidden in an orchard. “We need to ride hard Nat; we’ll be okay if we can get a few miles farther north.”

“But I’m…I’m not.” I stammered.

“We’ve got no time to waste, Nat!” He scolded me as he deftly mounted the horse, placing himself protectively behind me. “Yah Horse!” He barked, kicking it in the sides to spur it to moving.

We raced as fast as the horse could carry us, across lawns and field, staying off of any road which we may encounter soldiers of either side. Jostled and bumped about, I hung on to the mane of the horse to prevent myself from falling; these strange feminine globes upon my chest bounced with unbridled and painful abandon. I had no worry of being dismounted though since Ephraim’s arm was firmly around my thin waist.

I wondered what the few people we saw thought as we raced past, hooves pounding with fury and kicking up earth in our wake, on a horse ridden fiercely by a Union cavalryman and a thin wisp of a woman in her nightclothes.

We rode hard, lather began glistening on the horse’s side; reining up at a stream he walked him back and under the cover of trees to let him cool down. Ep’s eyes searching the horizon for anyone following as he gently pulled me off the back and carried me to the bank at the water’s edge.

“We’ll have to take it easy on him; I don’t want to kill my best horse.” He watched as the Chestnut stallion drank deeply from the stream.

Ephraim walked to one of his saddle bags and opened it, removing a large piece of jerky, as he walked back he took his knife and cut a thin strip and handed it to me. I took his offering and bit off a piece, handing the rest back to him. He shrugged and put the remainder into his mouth; chewing and examining his horse.

“He’ll be ok now; his breathing is already becoming more relaxed.” He said as he chewed, patting the thick neck of his horse. “We’ll slow down now and try and find you a horse when we get into Bendersville.”

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, tucking a stray lock of hair that had been drifting across my face, behind my ear.

“We’ll ride further north, where they never heard of the Seward name.” He said with a smile.

“And then what?” I shrugged looking up into his young face.

While I sat waiting for him to answer, he gathered the reins of the horse and guided him to the stream’s grassy edge and removed his canteen and pulled the cork. “We’ll settle down and raise our family, I guess.” He bent down and pushed it under the surface of the water, bubbles rose upward as it filled.

As he pushed the cork back in he stood up, hanging it back onto his saddle. “Why you asking?”

I looked up at him, with all the serious I could muster. “I’m not Natalie.” I replied frankly.

He laughed as he held his hand out to me, “None of us are who we were before this war began…probably never be the same either.”

I took his offered hand and he pulled me to my feet, gathered his large hands around my thin waist and hoisted me onto the back of his horse.

Late in the afternoon when we crossed into Bendersville, Ephraim bartered for a smaller mare for me and clothing for both of us. She was a beautiful little bay with white on her hooves, gentle and easy to ride. Although the dress he found for me was nowhere near as fancy as the one I wore yesterday; this one was quite plain and practical for a cross country ride. Thankfully, it held me firmly in all the right places so that at least the riding was quite a bit more comfortable.

As the sun was lowering toward the horizon, we rode into a secluded little area dotted with several tall pine trees; their bases thick and spreading. Under the thick branches, using the covering to disperse our camp smoke, Ephraim prepared a small fire and began to toss his Union blues into the flames; we sat silently watching his uniform burning, knowing that if he were caught now, he’d most likely be shot for desertion.

As he changed into the clothes he bought for himself; common to what most of the farmers wore prior to the war, I found myself pushing sticks into the flames to be sure that it completely burned.

“That’ll do.” He said as the entire uniform was engulfed and blackened beyond belief. “When the fire cools by morning, we’ll gather the buttons and emblems so we can bury them.”

I sat beneath the overhanging branches upon old needles that had fallen and made a soft, thick area to rest. He slowly settled in beside me and placed his canteen on the ground between us. Ephraim handed me a piece of dried fish and a biscuit that he purchased back in Bendersville. As I slowly chewed a piece of the meat, I found myself staring into the fire, my mind whirling as I tried to comprehend what has happened to me.

For once, the entire story of Natalie’s disappearance was revealed to me, I also now knew what had happened to Ephraim. What I didn’t know was if I would ever be able to return to being me; or to the modern time that I came from.

To me this was a nightmare that I found myself a part in, a strange play that could only be dreamed up by a writer who had lost touch with reality. Only this was my story and I can only pray it is a dream. I began to feel sleepy and felt my head nod suddenly.

Ep pulled me close and pressed my head into his shoulder, “Go ahead and sleep Nat, it’ll be all right from here on out. I’ll take care of you.”

I closed my eyes, praying that when I opened them once again, I would be safely in my bed at home; and If when I opened them, I was once again trapped in the feminine form of Natalie, I was determined to make the best of it and try to move on accepting what hand this life dealt me.

If that meant living the rest of my life as a woman, I think I could do that…especially if it were with a kind hearted and understanding man. He gently squeezed me into his chest, softly kissing my forehead as I lay snuggled into him. I could hear the beating of his heart, the steady rhythm gradually lulling me into a deep, restful sleep.

***

Nub wanted to experience the paranormal, and experience it he did; just not in the way he would have expected. His plight brings up the old saying, be careful what you wish for! Especially when the wishes might bring you directly into the ghostly realm of...THE TWILIGHT ZONE!

The End