Will Wierd Willy Win?

In a rural town, an hour east of my home, is a cemetery with one particularly infamous resident.

Weird Willy was a terrible murderous criminal in his lifetime, and his heinous deeds resulted in an isolated grave, for no one wished to buy plots in his proximity. When he was buried in the 1920s, local townsfolk marked his grave with a stone that had engraved upon it a curse.

It attracted dare devils every Halloween, those who were brave enough, followed the directions - run three times around the grave clockwise, and three times counter clockwise. More often that not, bad luck befell those who dared- often in a big way.

The curse came to an ugly head when almost ten years ago, Weird Willy came a callin' to a known crazy in town. This fellow was well known for his love of drink, penchant for freely dabbling in chemical substances and wild incoherent ramblings. One night, "Jason" threw a party, as friends gathered to celebrate , "Jason" was compelled to get up to other business.

He abruptly abandoned his own party and went, armed with supplies in his truck, to the resting place of Weird Willy. Upon arrival at the desolate graveyard, he proceeded to exhume the remains in the dark. He took with him every last bone, and placed the sightless grinning skull on his dashboard like some macabre trophy.

It was near his home that he was caught by police for speeding, but "Jason' didn't stop until he reached his driveway. Party goers streamed out of the house to see what the commotion was with the police. But as the officer approached "Jason's" car he was mortified by the discovery of the skeletal remains, "Jason" held the skull in hand and calmly introduced the officer to his new 'friend'.

Needless to say, Jason was immediately arrested. Weird Willy was returned to his grave and laid to rest again. "Jason" faced many charges and an extensive psychiatric evaluation. Surprisingly that night, his blood tests returned clean.

The curse may have been Weird Willy's way to escape the clutches of death. For "Jason" was the second victim of an addled mind to dig up the cursed bones.

Still the question remains... ...who will be next?

Sleep of the Damned

I love nappie time.

I rarely get enough sleep. Actually, I don’t need a whole lot – I get pretty darn restless after about six hours and want to get up, like I’m bored lying there. I get tired and burned out, though, like anyone would, and thus my weekend treat: naps.

I like to zonk out for a couple of hours in the afternoon. My husband, a preposterously kind and indulgent man, sees my eyes glazing over at around two pm and drags me off and puts me in bed. This is always accompanied by me crankily announcing that I’m fine and I can take care of myself and I don’t WANNA lay down, even while I’m walking into walls. He ignores all this and tucks me in. And of course I really do wanna lay down, so I stop arguing eventually and drift off into a lovely, lovely nap.

There’s only one problem.

Afternoon sleeps are when my dreams really get rolling. I get virtual reality dreams, I talk in my sleep, I have horribly realistic nightmares. Beyond nightmares – I get something called sleep paralysis.

There was one episode, a few years ago, that made a lasting impression. I was alone for the afternoon, sleeping blissfully, when I heard the door open. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t move – I couldn’t get up, or scream, or anything.

Someone walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed; I could feel the mattress sag under the weight. I was still unable to move.

Slowly, I felt them pull the blanket away….. I was absolutely terrified, trying to scream, and hearing only pathetic squeaks.

And then the paralysis released.

I woke up, opened my eyes, and saw (drumroll)...

NOBODY.

Everything was perfectly normal.

The door wasn’t open, no one had come in, and the blankets were still in place.

If I hadn’t found out about sleep paralysis, it would have made a hell of a ghost story.