Confessions of a Sociopathic Astral Traveler
A Character Guest Blog With Clarissa Fletcher
When Mason stepped down and I became Vice President of the Gramm Institute in Gurley, Alabama most everything we did centered in Jonesborough. All those ancient buildings on Main Street attract as many spectral beings as tourists. The town is a breeding ground for everything from vampires to angels and, of course, ghosts. I always wondered why John just didn’t set up shop there… isn’t it funny? The people of Jonesborough are actually friendly toward ghosts… proud to be the most haunted town in America. It worked out perfectly as a place to raise a superhuman kid… people know there is something weird about Mason and the brat. They know Blondie is something else as well, but, and of course, with psychic manipulation, they ignore it. Over the years, there has been a lot to ignore.
After awhile, going there to fight off demons and drive away spirits got old. Jonesborough ghosts are stubborn. Not that every sighting was real. Sometimes it was my astral form. I had a little Halloween tradition, namely, I’d use my astral form during the annual storytelling festivals. I’d like to scare the piss out of visitors and screw with ghost hunters for entertainment, especially when they brought all that ridiculous equipment.
Before I talk about the trouble I caused, I suppose I should explain what astral traveling is. Simply put it’s using psychic energy to leave your physical body. Just like projection machines do. True astral travel requires the ability to see all events at any given time. Remote viewing. It also requires enough power to push every inch of your mind outward.
Mason can pull this off to an extent. The difference is he uses the brain waves around him to see where he needs to go. Most people can pull off a lesser form of this. A normal human brain can use image streaming, or meditation to trick the brain into thinking it has left the body. It isn’t real astral travel. It’s an insight that occurs as the brain attempts to see its potential.
Anyway, my astral form is invisible to most people, unless I want to spook them, in which case they see whatever I want them to see.
Back to the swarms of people that flow into Main street each year. All of them to hear the ghost tales at the international story telling center…
Well, I got so bored about hearing of President Jackson trolling Main Street; I decided to add to the ghost legends of Main Street. This story is actually a part of the Washington County Archives, only because John found me out…
The following article from the Jonesboro Herald and Tribune has been reparagraphed and partially repunctuaded for easier reading.
It has been reported for a number of years by different families who have resided in the ‘Jackson House,’ situated south of the railroad and near the corporation of Jonesboro, that the house was haunted.
Our citizens gave the report but little attention as they believed it was imaginary and not real with those who made the report.
It may be proper to state that it is a large brick house with many rooms. It is located on a large hill surrounded by trees and shrubbery.
In that house now live Mr. Nathan Morrell and family, who are well-known to many of our citizens. They are honest [and] hard-working with a respectable family. They have never, until recently, believed in haunts or hobgoblins. In fact, they say they were taught by their parents, when children, not to believe any such reports, as it was all imaginary and not real.
Being anxious to know the particulars of what might be seen and heard at the house, we inquired of Mr. Morrell as to the truth of the report that is being circulated in regard to the mysterious knocking, walking, crying, and groaning. He said he was going to stop talking about the mystery, especially to those who had the audacity to doubt the truthfulness of what he said in regard to it.
We assured him that we had the utmost confidence in him as a truthful and honest gentleman, and desired him to state to us all he knew about it.
After having assured him of our earnestness and confidence in him, he proceeded to say that often at night they could hear the strange and mysterious noise in one of the rooms upstairs which sounded like a man walking with a cane, and they could hear him coming down and going up the stair steps, and that he would, after many a time, pound upon the door and turn the knob of the lock as though he was trying to enter the room the family occupies.
At other times, they could hear groaning and crying which sounded like a woman in distress.
They have often tried to find the cause of these mysterious doings but, as yet, have never been able to see anything that would give them light or information.
Mr. Elbert Morrell, who resides in the country, visited his father last Monday, at which time; he heard a very strange noise that appeared to be in the wall of the house. He was also alarmed by his chair, in which he was sitting, raising up suddenly several inches, accompanied by a loud rapport as though it had been struck by a plank or board.
Many persons still doubt the correctness, while there are others who believe them and would not be willing to join a company and watch for and, if possible, catch the ‘bugaboo’.
Should any new developments take place in the future, we will take pleasure in publishing them for the pleasure of the reader.
The moaning and crying was me, in my astral form, having a little fun. The old man truly did haunt the home but, he never had any interest in entering the family room until I told him that his wife was in there. And the business with the young man’s chair was just plain hilarious.
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