Anyone who knows me has heard a ghost story or two. Okay, probably more than that, but it’s another thing that keeps my fascination with this place going. One shouldn’t be surprised that there are so many here in this building. Over the years many elderly have lived and died at the Imperial Tower. My mom actually had several patients here when she did hospice work many years ago. In the years I have lived here I have attended more funerals than I would like to remember. But let’s not dwell on the sad. Let’s move instead to the strange.
From the first day I lived here there have been whispers about things that go bump in the night. One neighbor constantly awoke to the feeling of somebody tucking here feet in very tightly at the end of her bed. Another woman who moved into the same apartment years later was awakened by the sheets being pulled off her feet. (Admittedly, she had really cute feet.) The two women never met, so hearing these stories gave me pause as to what was happening in that particular unit. As time went on, it went from sheets being moved around to cabinets opening in the middle of the night and weird shadows darting about.
One man on the 8th floor and a girl who moved into the 3rd floor confessed to me the feeling of waking up with the feeling of somebody holding them down in their beds. Strangely, it happened to both of them just after moving in. The girl moved out after about three months, but I can’t say that is why. The other is still here and has been free of visitors in his bed since. (Unless of course, you count the occasional booty calls he gets from his from his ex.)
Two years ago, my beliefs got a bit of a wake up call. I had weird occurrences in my apartment on a regular basis, but as an avid Ghost Hunters viewer, I was sure that everything was explainable. Every time something happened I went into Jay and Grant mode and quickly found a reasonable answer for the event in question. Plumbing, the cats, my own general forgetfulness…these things explained a lot. Until one morning I could not rationalize away what I saw. In a nutshell, my invisible roommate didn’t like my explaining his actions away, so he made it very clear he was indeed here with me.
I stood at the bathroom mirror while I was getting ready for work. Some movement on the counter caught my eye. My deodorant which was lying on the counter was rocking back and forth a bit. I looked around to see what could have bumped it, and then figured it was just a fluke. I went back to looking in the mirror when suddenly it slid about three inches to the left on its own. That I could not ignore. I did what every TV show I have ever seen on the subject had told me to do. I politely acknowledged that I saw it move and told whoever moved it to please leave. I guess that was not the right response because as soon as I sat down, a tub of bath salts went flying of the back of the toilet and struck the glass shower door with enough force to cause me to grab the nearest pieces of clothing from the floor, and franticly dress my self as I ran out of the apartment.
Since then I have managed to catch EVP recordings that would make Jay and Grant cream their pants. Not the fuzzy, barely decipherable, one word recordings they gather round and play over and over during sweeps week. Full sentences. Things really heated up for a while and the constant moving (or should I say throwing) of things caused me to sleep on neighbors’ couches until I finally came to the realization that I had to go home at some point, or leave the apartment all together. I resolved that if my ex-husbands nutty girlfriend didn’t drive me out of the building, no stupid ghost would. I came home.
I burned sage, burned sweet grass, had religious friends bring over their trinkets that they swore would do the trick, and had conversations with thin air asking for peace. I slept on my couch for months because I was terrified of my bedroom. I saw him once…A tall thin man in dark clothing staring at me when I woke up in the middle of the night. He was silhouetted by my closet light that I had left on for protection, and as solid as can be. I screamed at him to get out and with one blink he was gone. Over the years he and I have come to an agreement. He is still here and only toys with me slightly these days, just enough to remind me he is here and always just when I start to forget. Myles is just lonely from what I can tell. Not so much a threat as long as I don’t forget he lived here first. Did I mention his name is Myles? Yeah, we got that on a recording too.
So now I wonder if he is the same one who would tap the old lady who lived across the hall on the shoulder whenever she was doing dishes. Another family described the same man I saw in their apartment on the second floor. While they would sit on the couch watching TV, this mysterious man would peek out from their kitchen door and look at them. A similarly described man has also been seen in the kitchen of the restaurant, disappearing through walls once he is spotted. Does Myles roam the building or are these other neighbors from the past? There are also women and children here to from the reports I’ve heard. One elderly lady who lived here was seen shortly after her death by several of her closest neighbors. I’ve even had a little girl come up on a recording or two. For the most part I don’t try to contact any of them anymore. I figure if they want attention they will ask for it. No need to pester them. Just like with my living neighbors, you just have to give them some space and take the time you have together with them as something special.
