My lives story

January 5, 2012
By Aaron Osborn BRONZE, Las Vegas, Nevada
Aaron Osborn BRONZE, Las Vegas, Nevada
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I was a young male and had just gotten married before my life turned into the worst disaster I had ever seen in my 26 years of living. Here is the story of all of my tragic events. (Edit later on)
The proposal, the reception, and the new life were all dealt. There was one and only thing left… A baby! My new wife, Mary was especially excited to have a baby. Then it happened! 9 months here I come. 9, 8, 7,6,5,4,3,2,1, the months came and passed and when the day of birth came the story of us really began. We named her Tiffany. I worked and “mom” worked. I worked days while she worked nights. Therefore, for the two of us, the baby was 50 percent of each of our lives and sadly enough we were losing that spark that once remained in-between the two of us. Very rarely would we have any time together but when we did we loved to go to the park. Tiffany loved it too. The sound of the nature and the peacefulness of our small town always seemed to bring Mary and I closer than ever. A picnic, letting Tiffany play while we relax, and we were off to our routine lives we hated so much.
Day after day we went and Tiffany was aging very fast. In a few weeks she would be one years old. We celebrated her first birthday party when it came with all of our family members and friends. She seemed to really enjoy all of the attention she was getting. Not long after her first birthday Mary officially became a stay at home mom. My boss, Mr. Walton’s gave me a raise that allowed us to make enough money to support our family and then some. It also gave Mary and I more time together. My only thought was that it was our life was slowly getting better and easier. We were going out more which included many more places than the park. Mary and I hired a Nanny with the few extra bucks we made so we could have some of our own outings. We adored going to restaurant’s, and the movies for fun. Mary still did love staying at home with little Tiffany though.
Tiffany was soon to be two. Our life seemed to be perfectly on track. Then it happened. Our life went bad when one particularly tragic event took place. We were at the park. We had just had a picnic and we released our wild little daughter to the playground. Mary and I were looking at the sky talking to each other about how our life couldn’t be any more perfect until a very loud truck horn went off and immediately both of our heads looked at the road. We both were forced to watch our worst nightmares happen in front of our eyes. Tiffany was crossing the street with her wagon and was hit and killed by a semi-truck. The truck never stopped and was never found.
All I could look at was the remains of my once known daughter. The sight shall forever remain in the depths of my mind. I ran back and told Mary who was just about over the hill to turn around. We very slowly walked back to the picnic blanket as I explained to story to her. Just as I got to the end she collapsed and her face, it was covered in tears. Glances from other people at the park quickly came. Before I knew anything the police was there and the paramedics were there. They were asking me questions and some of the spectator’s questions. I decided that we would let the police do their work and if they didn’t find the driver that would be fine. We never heard of them again.
Mary was not okay. I had such a hard time even getting her out of the park as she was completely hysterical. That night at the house we barely talked and Mary went to bed early. I could hear light sob coming from upstairs. She cried while I felt anger. I would have liked to hit that truck driver himself at that time. By the next morning Mary had accepted the truth and we both skipped work and started making plans for a funeral. She was going to be cremated as it would look much better because she was much mangled. 3 weeks later we held Tiffany Tate’s Funeral. My wife stood with her head down the whole time. I don’t think that she could accept the fact that she was gone. After the funeral, we headed home and our lives went on without that one missing piece. We got into more fights and soon could barely stand the sight of each other. Our relationship seemed to be heading downward but a couple months later, that’s when things started getting weird.
I thought she was going crazy. I was gone to work half of the day and almost every time I got home, I would hear Mary talking to herself and then stop abruptly at the sight of me. At least that’s what it seemed to be like. We had left Tiffany’s room the way it had been before that day and every night I would walk in there and remember what was. I slowly started noticing some nights that things seemed to be moving its places on shelves. Every time I started talking to Mary about it she would break out in tears. One day I decided to stay home from work. Around noon I heard noise in the back of the house. I walked slowly down the hallway and quickly noticed that it was coming from inside Tiffany’s room. I prepared myself and then flung the door open and I was in shock.
I saw Mary playing in Tiffany’s room, acting as if tiffany was there. She had stopped talking and looked over at me. I then closed the door and she proceeded playing as I listened through the door. She continued playing with what wasn’t there for another 45 minutes. When she finally came out of the room she acted as is nothing happened in the room. I confronted her about it but she refused to talk about it. Something weird was going on and I knew at that moment that I had to figure things out.
At first my thought was that maybe she was just having a hard time getting over the loss. I then knew it wasn’t that a few weeks later because know body would go that long and continue without moving on. One day I stayed home from work and forced her to talk about it. All she would say is that she says Tiffany and played with her. She said these entire things with a frightened face and exclaimed that she really should not be talking about anything. I figured that it was time to take it to the next level.
I introduced the fact that maybe going to a therapist might help her. She wouldn’t buy it. I begged her but she constantly refused to but she still had her times in Tiffany’s room. I decided that I would have to take the therapist to our home. Of course Mary did not know about this. The therapist was not available for another week so I had to deal with it. I took my vacation from work which was a week and a half. I was determined to find out what was wrong with Mary and cure her so our relationship could be strong and healthy once more.
That week I started experiencing the weirdest parts of this whole situation. Day one, it went normal with Mary playing in the room. That was normal but on day two I decided that it was time for her to stop with her “play dates” so I held her back and told her she could not go in. She fought with anger and furry but I resisted until just before my wife of two and a halve years bit my arm and forced herself into the room and locked the door behind her. My arm was bleeding but she went on with her normal routine of talking to a… the thought came to my mind for the first time, a ghost.
“It couldn’t be, I mean they aren’t real” I forced myself to believe. That thought of ghosts being real hasn’t been in my head since I was at least eight years old. It would explain all of these things pretty well though wouldn’t it? I mean the whole stereotypical ghost fits in the spot perfectly. There is no way to tell though. I would just have to wait and see.
And that was exactly what I did. I wish I didn’t but I did. The next few days before the therapist were torture for me. It was like my worst nightmares all compiled into one week of my solemn life. Day 3 went and passed. I ignored Mary when she did her routine. Day four came through and I was gone. I woke up that morning to find that Mary was out of bed. I went and checked Tiffany’s old room but surprisingly Mary was gone. I heard a knock. Not at the front door but at another. Curiously, I wondered the house. One more I heard the slight tap against a door. It was just starting to frighten me when… Mary popped out the door I was just going by and yelled “Gotcha”! I backed away startled but she didn’t stop and I fell. I was out cold.
I woke up. I didn’t know what day it was nor really cared. I knew I needed to get out. I stood up and started towards the front door. I heard the faintest giggling coming from Mary in Tiffany’s room. “She won’t hurt herself will she” I thought. She was still my wife but what was going on. I walked out the door and took the car to a friend’s house. I later found out that it was still 2 days until the therapist would be able to come. I stayed there, explained my story to him, he understood, and after two days I was on my way.
When I showed up at the house Mary was gone again but after the door opened she quickly ran out of Tiffany’s room and ran towards me screaming. She said for us to go outside and she seemed more normal than she had for the past while. I opened the door and we both ran outside in sync. The therapist was just driving up. I was ecstatic. Of courts Mary didn’t know what was going on.
He hopped out of his car and ran towards the situation. When he looked at Mary, he looked frightened. That didn’t make me feel any better. He looked me straight into the eye and said “I think you called the wrong person”. He walked in with the two of us and then looked in Mary’s eyes and asked if there had been any pretty recent deaths in the family. We both explained the situation and quickly replied stating that we had a ghost. He rushed out with no charge for the visit. Before he left he recommended the name of a priest to us.
I checked online the name of the priest but it turned out that he was dead. It was also already too late because Marry was already back to how she had been before. Just as I found this out I heard a scream come from the kitchen. I ran out into the kitchen as fast as I could. I then saw Mary on the floor. I determined that she was dead. She looked fine but when I inspected her she had gashes going up along her back. They were actually more like scratches than gashes. I almost immediately called nine one one.
They said she was already too far gone. I had to move on eventually. That’s why I am where I am today. I’m not married at the risk that this should ever happen again. I’m just a fifty nine year old man that tells my life story to many people.

The author's comments:
This is a story about a young man growing older and a very tragic event that tragically takes place in his life.

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