Stalking Shadows (2 page)

By that time a small crowd was standing around me, all looking at my T-shirt. I nodded politely and made a hasty retreat out to my Jeep.

Forty-five minutes later I pulled into the driveway of a nondescript two-story building, covered in robin’s egg blue vinyl siding. I met Randy and we walked up a claustrophobic stairway to the second floor.

At the top of the stairs we were met by Sam and his roommate, who showed us around the small apartment. I prefer to have everyone who lives in a residence present when I’m there for interviews and to answer any questions. By having all occupants of a home present, I get everyone’s perspective about the paranormal activity occurring in the location.

In addition, nothing is lost in translation when I explain the hows, whys, and reasons a ghost or spirit, if one is present, is behaving the way it is, and what we can do to assist the living and the dead to resolve the situation. In other words, everyone is on the same page.

A kitchen lay to our left, the living room to our right, and the bedrooms lay straight ahead and bordered the living room. Sam’s bedroom was the first bedroom.

I took my time and walked around the apartment in an attempt to adjust to the energy and see what spirits, if any, were present. The energy felt statically charged and heavy.

The apartment was a typical bachelor pad: clothes were strewn around and laundry was piled up in the laundry room. Various beer cans, half-filled glasses, and empty pizza boxes littered the coffee table in the living room—the remnants of another good party I hadn’t been invited to.

Randy followed me around with the video recorder, and Sam sat on the couch watching me, his big blue eyes filled with the hope that I could extract him from his ghostly situation.

Satisfied there weren’t any spirits in the other rooms of the apartment, I turned my attention to Sam’s bedroom.

It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the darker room. Heavy curtains blocked out what little light was available, due to the thunderstorms raging outside.

The large room was lit by a lone lamp that cast eerie shadows around the bedroom. Sam turned on another light, further illuminating the room. The walls were barren, but I could see nail holes and tape marks where the pictures and posters, now on the floor or leaning against the walls once hung.

A couch sat against the back wall next to the closet, a queen sized bed rested on the wall to my right, and a large, standing oval mirror stood in the right corner.

I walked toward the mirror and examined it closely; it looked to be an antique.

“That was the only thing in the apartment when we moved in,” Sam offered. “We were told by the landlord to not move the mirror or get rid of it.”

“Did your landlord say why?” I asked.

“No. I asked, but he wouldn’t answer,” Sam sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed. “All he would say is that there was a spirit named Zack in the apartment, but he was harmless. I wasn’t thrilled, but the rent was cheap and it’s close to my job and my church.”

“Interesting,” I murmured. “So the thought of living with a ghost didn’t scare you?”

“Not really. At the time I thought it would be kind of a novelty,” Sam said, blushing slightly. “I never imagined it would turn into such a nightmare.”

“I’m sure,” I smiled. “How does the landlord know the ghost is named Zack?”

“I don’t know,” Sam shrugged.

“So, Zack is the one who pulled the pictures and posters off the wall?” I asked, turning around to look at Sam.

“Yes. See the empty shelves?” Sam said, pointing to three shelves above his bed. “I had my baseball trophies and other stuff on them, but they would keep falling off and hitting me while I was sleeping. At first I thought the shelves weren’t level, but they are. I checked. Plus the stuff would fly off of them and land all over the bed. There was force behind them.”

“I see,” I answered, looking around the room and noticing the trophies standing in the corner.

Randy sat the video recorder down on top of the dresser by the bedroom door and climbed up on the bed to examine the shelves. He grabbed them and tugged on them, but they didn’t budge.

He then retrieved a baseball from the floor and sat it on the shelves one at a time, but the baseball didn’t move an inch.

“The shelves seem level.” Randy said, satisfied with the results of his test.

Taking my time, I examined every corner of the room, pausing now and then to feel the energy, but the room seemed clear, until I arrived at the mirror. Then the energy changed and became charged with electricity. Something was definitely trying to get my attention; now I just had to figure out who or what it was.

Normally I would just communicate telepathically with a ghost or spirit, but because Randy was video-taping I decided to use a pendulum. I took the rosary from around my neck, kissed the cross, and then let the rosary dangle from my index finger.

“Okay, Zack,” I said aloud. “This is how it’s going to work: I want you to swing the rosary back and forth for yes, and in circles for no. Do you understand?”

The rosary immediately started to swing back and forth rapidly.

“Okay, good,” I said. “Zack, my name is Debi and I’m here to help you. Understand?”

Again the rosary swung back and forth quickly. I stopped it with my hand.

“Excellent. Do you mean anyone here any harm?” I asked.

The rosary rotated in a circular motion. Sam and Randy stood spellbound by the spirit communication taking place.

“Great. Thanks, Zack,” I said, again stopping the pendulum from moving. “Are you trapped here?”

The rosary swung back and forth for yes.

“Do you need me to help you go into the light?”

Zack responded by making the rosary swing back and forth quickly.

“Okay, great. Zack, I’m going to move around in the corner of the room by this mirror. When I’m close to you, I want you to make the rosary move toward you. Understand?”

Again, yes.

Holding the rosary in front of me, I slowly moved toward the mirror. When I got about six inches away, the cross jerked violently toward the mirror, repeatedly banging the glass in an excited motion.

Randy and I exchanged quizzical glances; why was the cross hitting the mirror?

Perplexed, I backed up and again walked toward the mirror, and the cross dangling from the rosary repeated the same action.

“Zack,” I paused, almost afraid to ask the obvious, “are you trapped inside the mirror?”

The rosary swung back and forth wildly in excitement.

I knew that mirrors could act as portals between the earthly plane and the other side, but I wasn’t aware that a ghost or spirit could become trapped in a mirror.

“Okay, Zack. Hang tight and I’ll get you out of there,” I promised. “Randy, can I talk to you for a minute in the other room?”

Randy switched off his video camera and followed me into the living room.

“So, what’s the plan?” Randy asked when we were safely out of Sam’s earshot.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I’ve never had a ghost trapped in a mirror before. I mean, I’ve heard of it in theory, just never ran into one.”

“Right, mirrors can act as portals between this world and the other side, but how could a spirit get trapped in the mirror? I mean, just come through the portal, right?” Randy asked.

“You would think,” I shrugged. “Quite frankly the only explanation I can come up with regarding how Zack got trapped is that the portal closed before he got through, or someone intentionally sealed him in the mirror through some kind of magic.”

“Okay … so what are you going to do?” Randy looked at me expectantly.

“I’m going to try to draw him out of the mirror, I guess,” I said.

“And what if that doesn’t work? What’s Plan B?” Randy asked.

“There isn’t a Plan B,” I answered, walking away from him and back into Sam’s bedroom.

Randy sighed heavily and followed behind me, pausing only long enough to switch on his video recorder.

Having to totally focus on the task at hand, I decided to forgo the rosary to communicate with Zack, and have him communicate with me through telepathy. It required less energy for Zack to talk to me telepathically, and he would need all the energy he could get if this was going to be effective.

“Okay, Zack,” I said aloud. “This is the deal. You need to communicate with me telepathically—it will help save your energy. I’m going to get you out of that mirror, but you have to promise me one thing.”

“What?” I heard Zack say.

“You have to promise me that you will go directly into the light and not hang around here or anywhere else. Okay?” I said.

“I promise. Please help me,” Zack pleaded, desperation filling his voice.

“Okay, this is how it’s going to work, Zack. I’m going to put my hands on the mirror and force my energy into the mirror. When you feel that energy, I want you to follow it and come out of the mirror through me, then you must leave my body the second you are free. Agreed?” I said. I knew this was a risky move, but I didn’t know any other way to get this poor ghost out of the mirror.

“Agreed, I’m ready.” Zack answered.

It’s not very often that I open myself up in this manner when dealing with spirits. The main reason is that some spirits can pretend to be one thing, when in reality they are something totally different. For example, a demon can take the shape of a child spirit or a loved one who’s passed away, in order to gain your trust.

While I was really quite hesitant to do what had to be done, there really wasn’t any other way that I knew of to get Zack out of the mirror. I had to take extra precautions to protect myself and keep myself grounded. In addition, I was stalling for time to figure out what I was going to do if Zack didn’t hold up his end of the bargain.

After taking a deep breath to ground and center myself, I placed the palms of my hands on the mirror, allowing my energy to flow freely from me and into the mirror.

Almost instantly, I felt Zack’s energy begin to merge with mine. My hands started to tingle and the feeling swept rapidly up my arms and soon engulfed my entire body. Within just a few seconds, I felt Zack’s energy leave my body and felt him standing next to me.

“Do you see the light, Zack?” I asked.

“Yes, I see it. There aren’t words to even begin to thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome, Zack. Go in peace,” I said quietly.

“I see my family!” Zack exclaimed. With those words, I felt his energy completely leave the room.

“He’s gone into the light,” I told Randy and Sam, who were looking at me expectantly.

“Will he come back?” Sam asked.

“No, he won’t come back,” I promised. “Now, it’s time to clean house.”

I walked out of the bedroom and over to my briefcase, which I’d set on the kitchen table. I extracted a smudge stick and my bottle of holy water.

After lighting the smudge stick, made of white sage, sweet grass, and frankincense, I walked around the entire apartment making sure the smoke from the smudge stick got into every nook and cranny. As I smudged the area, in a calm but assertive voice I ordered any negative energies or spirits to leave immediately.

Once I finished smudging, I opened the holy water and systematically made my way through the apartment. I kept dipping my index finger into the holy water and making the sign of the cross on every window frame, jamb, and door I could find in the apartment.

As I worked, I commanded that any type of ghost or entity leave the space in the name of God. I could feel the energy in the rooms begin to lighten and feel less heavy.

“The house is clean. You should have no more trouble,” I announced to Sam.

I could see his jaw unclench, and the features on his face visibly relax.

“Thank you,” Sam said.

“You’re welcome. If you have any more trouble just let Randy know and we’ll come back out,” I assured him.

A few minutes later Randy and I packed up our gear and left Sam’s apartment.

It’s been well over a year, and Sam is still reporting that since we were there, all paranormal activity in the apartment has stopped.

The above story is one of the most interesting of my career as a medium and ghost hunter. It is one of those cases that will stick with me throughout my life— not because it was especially complicated, but because to find a spirit trapped in a mirror, to me, is extremely rare.

It wasn’t until Zack was already gone that I thought to ask him how he got trapped in the mirror in the first place, but it’s too late now. Zack is exactly where he’s supposed to be, and I can only imagine his anguish at being trapped in that mirror.

As I made my way home through the pouring rain, I thought about what just transpired. The entire case made perfect sense now—Zack wasn’t being destructive or malicious in his behavior toward Sam; he was simply desperately trying to get someone’s attention so he could be helped.

This case is a lesson—not just to paranormal investigators, but to everyone. Just because a ghost or spirit is acting in what you perceive to be a destructive way, it may only be the way some poor soul is crying out in desperation for assistance.