Was it for Real?

From: tiffy (tiffany3710@comcast.net)
Story type: Ghost
Location: room/mind/friends house
Source: Form Submission

one day (i had just awoken from sleep) i lay in my bed staring up at the ceiling then suddenly it feels like im somewhere else. Sort of like, half of me is in my room, safe and sound inside my bed, and the other side has ventured off somewhere into the early 1900's!

I saw a blonde woman bending over a young child with long brown hair. It was a boy and his hair was almost at his shoulders. He was lying at the base of a tree and the woman is shaking the boy, screaming and crying his name. "cohen..wake up cohen. Please wake up"

The suddenly a man comes up behind her (one that she knew) and says, "it's time to go. He's gone and there is nothing we can do to save him." She screams "NOOOO!!!" and he becomes tempermental. He picks her up over his shoulder and pushes her into his car. It was a blue beaten up very old looking (like from the 1920's or 1930's) truck.

Then as soon as I think What is going on here? The people vanish and I was left alone of the silence and blankness of my room.

Then one day about a month later I begin to tell a friend the tale, when I realized that I could not remember the boy's name. As soon as the name Cohen appears inside my mind (FINALLY) I am standing on the side of the road. I see a blue beaten up old looking truck. And it's on fire. I hear the women scream "Cohen!" Then the car blows up and I am back in my friend's living room.

But thats not the end of the tale. One day I am struggling to think of a topic for a book (i love to write stories!) suddenly for some odd reason the name Charlotte Gawain appears in my mind. I was sure I had never heard the name before so honestly I have no idea where it came from.

About a week ago I ventured upon the internet and looked up Charlotte Gawain to see if it was the name of an actress or author or something. But nothing appeared under that title.

Sometimes I'll sit in my room when I am all alone and begin to talk to the closet, as if there were someone or something in there...listening...as if there were someone in there..as if I am waiting to be talked to back. But who knows?

I swear this whole story is true. I have no idea what the possibilities of things could be. I am not a scientist I am not a genius but I do know that I AM this ghosts only connection, the only connection to the life she could have lived but didn't. The ghosts only connection to getting her story told. The ghost's only connection to...sweet revenge.