Moonlight shimmering through lacy curtains cast an eerily strange glow over the room. A lone cricket chirped its serenade beneath the open window. Thirty-two-year-old Sarah Nance, in a silent battle of fight or flight, sat on the bed hugging her knees to her chest and shivered despite the warmth of the night. An ominous sense of foreboding kept her eyes wide while she waited. She knew nothing her husband could do would stop the events to come and, for a moment, watched him sleep. Swallowing the knot of fear lodged in her throat, a sigh of resignation slipped past her dry lips as she peered into a shadowy corner. The cricket ceased its beckoning song the moment Sarah detected a familiar shift in the energy surrounding her. Heaviness filled the air. Once again, as it did the last three nights, adrenaline surged through her veins when the chilling apparition floated out of the shadows directly toward her.
Rendered speechless and unable to move, Sarah’s urge to pull the blankets over her head went unheeded. Sweat mingled with tears. Her heart pounded. Her mind screamed, ‘Oh my god!—Go away!—Leave me alone!’
Hovering inches off the floor next to the bed, the wedding dress-clad woman ignored Sarah’s telepathic ranting. Slowly raising an arm, the ghost pointed at Sarah.
A look of determination raged in the specter’s huge eyes, and in a futile attempt to block the visions Sarah knew would come, she squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself.
Without a word the ghost imprinted thoughts in Sarah’s mind, ‘Look at my dress. See my dress. Notice my dress.’
Sarah didn’t respond.
The specter demanded, ‘Look—at—my—dress!’
Sarah squeezed her eyes tighter. ‘I’ve already seen your dress! Go away!’ A cold breeze hit her face; inhaling sharply, her eyes popped open, ‘Oooh crap!’