Over the past week she could have sworn she’d been hearing noises—footsteps, whisperings, thumps, tapping, slamming doors, and windows opening and closing. And along with those sounds there were smells…sometimes the smell of gardenias or aftershave, sometimes of burned wood.

And now, when the clock suddenly stopped for no apparent reason (she checked and the battery was fine) and she thought the curtain had moved ever so minutely and could have sworn her husband had been standing there…well she became apprehensive because she could feel a cold prickling on her skin as if a cold breeze had invaded the room. Not only did it give her chills, but also it came with the feeling of being touched or watched, like a strong presence was hovering nearby just out of her vision perhaps trying to communicate with her.

It made her anxiety level skyrocket because she didn’t know what to make of it.

Yes, her dear husband, the love of her life, had passed away…and she missed him immensely!

Was she experiencing the presence of his ghost?

Could such a thing happen?

Or could she explain it all away?

After all, she knew ghosts were often associated with a chilling sensation. But wasn’t a natural animal response to fear the raising of hairs, like a cold prickling…and couldn’t that be mistaken for chill? (Not that she would have feared her husband, but she feared the unknowing—was someone else watching her?)

And, she knew her peripheral vision was very sensitive to motion and didn’t contain much color or focused shapes. So could any random motion outside of her focused view create a strong illusion of a figure?

Was her grief so strong, and was her desire to see him just one more time so overpowering…that she was creating these things around her?

She knew some British scientists claimed that sound waves with frequencies lower than 20 hertz, called infrasound, are formally inaudible but can cause humans to feel a “presence” in the room, or unexplained feelings of anxiety or dread.

Was she exaggerating her interpretation of her own perceptions?

Or was her husband with her now, trying to tell her something? –Trying to reassure her perhaps that he was OK? –Wanting to tell her that he loved her too? –And that he missed her?

With a smile she opened the memory album they had created together and thumbed through its pages, talking all the while to her dead husband (in case he was there with her)…telling him how much she loved him and missed him, how much fun they’d had when they went to Paris…

She could have sworn she felt his warm hand brush her cheek.

And then the tears came…

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James