Ghost Stories :: essays research papers

Ive always believed in ghosts and spirits. Perhaps it was because it amused me, or perhaps it was because Ive been stuffed with ghost stories ever since I was old enough to comprehend them. Ive been around a lot of people who grew up in contrasted areas of the world. You know, the place where electricity doesnt exist, and running house water is just a myth. Well, anyway, Ive heard many ghost stories from them, mostly drawn from their developed encounters and experiences. These stories were pass on to me on many different occasions. Like say around a campfire, a mid-night drive across towns, or just nether the dim candlelight of my champions basements.One of my friends stories was about his dad. You see, back in those days when my friends father was just teenager, water was a rare commodity. At every dawn, he had to leave his home with two vases on either side of a stick on his shoulders to drag drinkable water from the colonizations well. The walk was about two miles. People d id not live close to each other in those days, they lived on their farm, and every house was kind of far from each other. There wasnt any pavement, or cement street, roads were simply made out of rocks, and mud, and dirt. And the only mean of transportation was cows. Nevertheless, my friends dad always stopped by his neighbors house, the two boys grew up together and theyve always walked alongside each other to get water. When Mr. skid, my friends dad, was fifteen, his friend died of malaria, so from then on he had to walk to the well by himself.One day, while coming back from the well, Mr. Shoe heard running steps coming from behind him. So he stopped and turned around, no one was there. The footsteps then slowed down to a jog, and then to a walk, then it stopped next to him. He was puzzled, but he wasnt scared, so he kept walking. The footstep started again, but this time it was next to him. The footsteps pace matched Mr. Shoe pace evenly as he walked down the street.The tall g rass that was growing on either side of the street, he recalled, drooped down and turned purple that day. It seemed dead and somehow evil. The sun did not rise yet, and the moon still hung stubbornly on the cloudless night.