I think I pissed off a dead person. I can hear you laughing at me right now. Duh, you say, you've already pissed off most of the living ones here, how could you not be pissing off dead people?
Well, I reply, I thought they were dead. I thought dead people were "resting in peace" or "up in the wild blue yonder" or simply just didn't exist anymore but for some crumbling bones and Swiss cheese flesh.
But, I realized maybe that's not entirely true. I'm on the verge of an epiphany. Maybe I shouldn't be voicing such offensive opinions. Maybe I don't want two whole buildings full of ghosts pissed at me. Maybe I should change the way I see things.
They say whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. By the time I die, it's going to be impossible to kill me.
The week before Halloween, my TV stopped working. I no longer have my precious CNN and FOX news and 300 digital channels of lame music and even lamer porn. My TV has died.
The next day, as I was checking my e-mail, my computer emitted this weird "ehhhhh" sound and bleeped off. It hasn't been able to boot up right since. I turn it on and a giant skull and crossbones appear on the screen and laughs at me. OK, OK, I'm just kidding about the skull, but at this point, it wouldn't surprise me. My computer is dead.
The day after my computer caught the digital version of anthrax, my car did the same.
I got in and cranked the key over in the ignition. Nothing happened. The battery was dead, but no lights or anything else that would drain the battery were on. I got a jump-start and pulled out of the driveway, only for my car to die again at the end of the block. OK, so the battery was just completely dead, right? No big deal, I thought. I bought a new battery and got my car running again.
Three things die on me within one week.
And then I almost died.
I fell through a plate glass window. I was walking toward it, and my ankle collapsed, as if someone kicked it. But no one could have, no one was close enough to me to have. I fell forward into the glass and instead of bouncing off it, I crashed through it.
At first I didn't realize what was happening. It was all in slow motion. The glass shattered and showered me as I fell into it. It sparkled in the light as strands of it spiraled toward the floor. I caught my body and held myself folded over a large blade of glass. If I hadn't caught myself, I would have been sliced in half.
I spent the night in the hospital and went home the next morning with hands and a face full of stitches.
Could my luck get any worse?
A few days later, my car blew up. I was on my way home from the doctor when an awful aroma of burning rubber caught my attention. Hahaha, I thought, someone's clutch burned out and I know it's not mine because I drive an automatic. Hahaha. Fate laughed back at me in the form of smoke pouring from under my hood.
I pulled over and opened the hood. Flames shot up out of my engine, and I could hear multiple plastic tubes and pieces sizzling in the fire.
I figured I was just having the biggest bought of bad luck ever, until opportunity knocked on my door the night before Halloween, and I knew I was being taunted by a ghost.
It was 11:59 p.m.; I was changing from my dirty jeans into some only-a-little-dirty pajama bottoms when I heard five distinct raps on my door. Knock knock knock knock knock. Come in. Nothing. I opened the door. No one was there. My roommates were all asleep. I knew the knock belonged to the poltergeist that has been following me around for the last few weeks, ruining my electronics and pushing me through insidious panes of glass. (I wouldn't mind it so much if he was a playful poltergeist, but this one's just malicious.)
I almost died, and my recent life reeled slowly before my eyes. I've been thinking whether or not I should try to be a little nicer. Whether or not I should try to show a little more respect. Whether or not I shouldn't be so damned offensive.
I pondered this epiphany for a few minutes or so.
Hey, wait a second. Didn't someone important once say, "To thine own self be true?"
No, I can't change the way I see things. That's what makes me me. So what if I anger the spirits?
Epiphany? Hahaha. Never. Poltergeists, come and get me.
Sabrina Fladness is a journalism and political science senior. Reach her at ihate
sabrinafladness@hotmail.com.
