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Let's Talk Paranormal

Paranormal Magnet

By M. TomaschPublished 6 years ago 4 min read

My name is M. Tomasch. I don't claim to be a medium or a psychic. However, I have had enough happen in my life to know that I have some sort of abilities.

It started when I was little. My childhood home always gave me the feeling of standing in a crowded room. I could just feel the presence of so many people around me or rushing through. It was like a train station. There were rushes of people going where they needed to go, there were times when they would just stand around making small talk while waiting for their train to arrive, and then there were times when it was vacant except for that odd person who works a later shift and was finally going home in the wee hours of the morning.

This was my home. I lived in a paranormal train station.

I only ever saw things once when I was little. My parents had a walk-in closet that was like a narrow, short hallway. It still had the original green carpeting from the 50s and the cedar wood paneling that was rough to the touch. It always smelled like old wood when I walked into there.

There was one time—it has been so long ago that I don’t remember if it was day or night—I walked out of my bedroom to go to the bathroom most likely and I could see the closet down the way on the right. As I turned the corner to walk that way, I saw a very tall man step out of the closet. His head almost brushed the ceiling and he was dressed in a suit with a coat tail. I froze, but he didn’t seem to see me. He stepped out of the closet, and without breaking stride, he walked right into the wall across from the closet door.

I was petrified. When I tried explaining what I saw to my mom I told her it was a skeleton. I had not concept of spirits at the time and I just knew skeletons were dead, and what I saw I knew was not of the living. She told me that I must have just imagined it and for a time I believed that I was just a creative child with an overly active imagination.

I had a very fleshed out imaginary friend. She was a ballerina and her name was Clarissa. I can still see her face and remember everything about her to this day. Her hair was a darker shade of blonde and always in a tight bun on the top of her head. She wore a pale pink dress and a necklace tight around her neck that looked like a dark ribbon and a locket. We would tip-toe together through the house and we would dance all the time. Although I call her my imaginary friend, she didn’t stick around very long.

Her train must have finally arrived and we parted ways.

Whenever I was in the attic, crawling through to bring down Christmas decorations, or packing up my childhood, I always felt like there was someone in the crawl space with me. I never felt threatened or like something evil was trying to get me. There was just someone always curious to see what I would find in the old insulation. My hand would slip and I would get splinters from the wooden catwalk. Every time I’d feel like someone was just out of my sight, I would turn to look and my hand would press between the supports and touch an old mason jar, toy, or my dad’s glasses that had been missing since he put the Christmas decorations away the previous year.

As I got older, I was in the house by myself more often. There were certain rooms I would instinctively avoid (the walk-in closet), and there were rooms I felt more comfortable leaving the lights on in (much to my dad’s annoyance). I would be walking through the house and suddenly feel like I needed to get out of the way as someone was rushing by, or I’d pass a room and think I heard someone talking mid-sentence to another person. Each time I would check the room or see if my brother was sneaking up on me, but each time there was nothing there.

I shrugged it off for years until I got into shows like Ghost Adventures, and one year for Christmas, my parents even got me my very own Ovilus III device. For anyone that doesn’t know what an Ovilus is, it’s a device used by paranormal investigators where spirits can manipulate their energy to form words on the screen and it kind of looks like a stud finder. I started using it whenever things would start happening or my dog would start barking at an empty room. Most of the time I would just get random words and not really get any answers to the questions I would ask, but there would be the rare instance when the words made sense.

As an adult now, and moved out of the house, I have come to realize just how much that house had happening inside. I have had things happen to me in the apartment that I share with my wife. She was a hardcore skeptic until things started happening that even she could not explain.

Edgar Cayce, the great American mystic, said that his ability of prophet and healing knowledge was gifted to him from the Christian God. I started following his teachings when things were picking up and I was becoming more aware of spirit. Whether my abilities are a gift from a divine power or something else, my name is still M. Tomasch: Spouse, writer, and paranormal magnet.

Stay scary my friends, and I’ll see you next time.

About the Creator

M. Tomasch

I live for a sigh, I die for a kiss, I lust for the laugh, ha ha! I never walk when I can leap! I never flee when I can fight! I swoon at the beauty of a rose.

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    M. TomaschWritten by M. Tomasch

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