Ghostbusting is Boring by Delilah Devlin!!!
All right, so I wasn’t wearing the white uniform or carrying an
ectoplasmic stun gun, but I did go on a ghost hunting expedition with
writers from the Diamond State Romance Authors this past weekend and the
ladies of CASPR (Central Arkansas Society for Paranormal Research).
And it was anything but boring, but I couldn’t think of a catchier title.
Yes, it was a very long afternoon and day. But writers are very strange
people if you didn’t know it, and we are forever curious about the world
around us and always on the hunt for a good story to tell.
We invited the CASPR ladies to speak, then had them lead us on a hunt in a
haunted hotel in Hot Springs, Arkansas. The Velda Rose hotel has a history
of hauntings, deaths, and strange occurrences. We learned about how
paranormal investigators, um, investigate. We came armed with cameras and
took pictures of “Ecto-mist”, interpreted unexplained orbs in photos, and
had a great time creeping each other out.
Now, I don’t know if ghosts exist, but I have friends who swear they’ve
seen them. Even though I don’t have any personal evidence or experience,
I’m open-minded and always willing to head out on a new adventure.
We sat in the dark in one room that’s considered a hot spot and nothing
happened. We sat in the spa in the dark and replayed tape that showed an
odd darting light that brushed down my arm and leg. Didn’t feel it. Can’t
explain it, but I’m willing to admit I got a chill watching the replay and
it was fun giggling like a nervous school girl on a camping trip sharing
ghost stories.
We even made a trip to a haunted graveyard, and there the weirdest thing
happened. My sister and I, armed with camera and flashlight, walked up to
a gravesite and shone the light at a worn headstone. I read the name as
“Ghost” to myself, then heard my sister mutter, “Weird name. Ghost.” We
shone the light a second time and saw the same thing again. Then we read
the headstone next to it and read “Johnson.” When we came back to the
“Ghost” headstone, this time, it read “Johnson” as well.
It’s entirely possible we were influenced by our creepy doings of the
night, but I’m holding out for another possibility. I’m a writer after
all.
Have you had any unexplained and eerie experiences?


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