I may be an Atheist, but I have had ghost experiences. Though I don’t believe in ghosts, I can’t deny the experience. So if you are interested, here is one of my stories:
In the 80’s I went with two friends to visit Indonesia. After 2 weeks of a beach-side vacation in bustling Bali we decided to look for something less traditional. I had heard of Muslim mystics who meditated in secluded caves in Java so we took a boat to Java, then a bus to Jakarta and finally, after riding various other vehicles including one donkey cart we found the secluded town on the coastline purported to have these caves. We arrived and could see the cliffs from the beach, but the sun was about to set and the beach was littered with jelly fish. A woman walking the beach told us that the sea goddess was angry and sent the jelly fish as punishment and that we should not swim. We thanked her for the advice and asked her if there was any place to stay in the town to stay. She directed us to a small Inn only one-of-two on that section of beach and she said the owner spoke English.
Sure enough, the inn was run by an American who had left the States 30 years earlier and spoke with an odd accent which was an odd mixture of English and several Asian languages. Her mannerisms were also very unusual. She was in her late forties, had an 18-year-old Indonesian boyfriend who constantly hovered next to her. She told us there were no other guests at the hotel but we were welcome to stay if we really wanted to. It was as if she didn’t want us to stay. But the sun was setting and the other inn was a bit of a walk. So we accepted the offer.
The inn was a close-compound structure with garden grounds in the center. Our room, in the back of the inn, as typical for rooms in crime-ridden Indonesia, had bars over the one window and the door had a huge pad lock. So when all three of us slept in the same room on our separate cots, we knew we were safe. Our only light source was a kerosene lamp which I put out at about 10 o-clock after we exhausted our conversations. But I woke up around midnight when I felt someone brush up again my feet which were hanging off my cot. I opened my eyes and saw the moonlit silhouette of man with a hat. I knew it was one of my traveling companions, moving past my bed. But the odd thing was that my friend did not have a hat.
So I called out to my friend as he walked past my bed, “Hey man, what are you doing up!” The reply to my question came from the head of my bed, behind my head and not from the foot of my bed. “Come on, go back to sleep”, my friend’s voice said. I instantly jumped up realizing it was not my friend at the foot of my bed and that both my friends were still in bed behind me while someone else had just brushed up against my feet. I fumbled to get a match to light the lantern while my friends grumbled at my noise making. I explained panicky that someone was in our room. But then I remembered that we were bolted in. I lit the lamp, with my friends protesting louder, covering their eyes, and I scanned the room. Nope, there were just three cots, three people and no hats. I looked under the beds, I checked the bolted door and I checked the firmly barred window. All was secure and no man with a hat. I apologized to my friends, extinguished the lamp and laid there scared for a full hour trying to fall back to sleep trying to shake the image of the stranger. The constant croaking of the lone gecko on our wall did not help my sleeplessness.
OK, maybe that was a dream, you’d think. But I felt very much awake and had never had such a vivid dream. And the next morning my friends ribbed me about my evening dream as we got dressed. We then unbolted our door and set off to go explore the cliffs. Walking through the compound we past an old useless swimming pool that had become a lily-filled murky pond. The owner was sitting in a chair at the side of the pond and her young companion was dutifully massaging her shoulders while she stared off smoking her cigarette and sipping some tea. We each gave our perfunctory, “Good Mornings”, but as we walked past her, she said, “You saw HIM last night, didn’t you?”
A chill went up my back. We stopped and turned around looking a bit puzzled (I could see friends’ surprise too). The owner said, “Oh, don’t pretend that you don’t know what I am talking about. He told me he saw you last night.”
“Who told you he saw us?” I said. “He comes here a few times a month.” the owner said in her thick accent as her boy-lover kept massaging her shoulders. She continued, “He comes once in a while to rape me. I usually stay in the room where I let you stay. So he accidentally went to your room looking for me. He said he woke you.”
Now rather weirded out, I said, “Who is he?” “I told you”, she said firmly, “He is a ghost who comes here from time to time to rape me. He came into your room by mistake and then left and found me last night and ravaged me again. Anyway, have a good day at the beach and be careful on the cliffs”
My friends’ mouths was hanging open. But all three of us did not want to keep the conversation going and just walked out to find some morning coffee and toast. We talked about the weird incident and concluded to move to the other inn that night.
By the way, 25 years after the fact, I wrote this story and sent it to my friends for verification. They remembered essentially the same story with only a few unimportant differences in detail. The cliff climbing trip will be written later.
Note: See my other Supernatural Experiences here