My favorite paranormal story is actually one that I have experienced myself. My friend and I were on a road trip, and were taking one of those ghost tours through Jamestown. We did a lot of crazy things on that tour (pretending to be lesbians to freak out the really uptight chick who made fun of us, for example). During the middle of the tour, we were all sitting in a field in between multiple buildings. The tour guide mentioned that one of the buildings, directly in front of us, had the ghost  of a cat. It would sit on the porch, but if anyone went up to it it would disappear through the door.

...We had just commented on how cute the little calico on the doorstep was.

When we brought this to the attention of the group, everyone looked up just in time to see the cat jump up and skitter through the doorway, without any kitty door.

Yes, I do bring my laptop on vacation. I suppose it's a commentary on our modern society, because it's not really for either reason. The simple fact, as sad as it is, is that I feel disconnected with the world without my laptop. The ease of getting an answer momentarilly is something I've taken security in for far too long. The ability to instantly access contact my friends is something that keeps me in touch. and the idea that I have no need to wait for anything is just something I'm used to. It is a product of being raised in the society of instant gratification, and I suppose it's a touch depressing.

Anie looked at the tiny little human who's life she had just ended, and she was horrified. On the normal earth, she had been the most gentle of people. She was a vegetarian. She spent her free time writing blogs on the problems of their society and participating in protests with activists organizations. She felt like every creature, big and small, had a right to live and a purpose on this Earth and on any other plane of existence.

 

This made her current situation quite the predicament. She could not easily move around this world without killing anything. And it was harder for her not to destroy buildings and end up killing people en mass. “Get out of the way!” She cried, her voice echoing seemingly over the entire planet. People who hadn't scattered before definitely did now. She walked, feeling everything crunch beneath her. She heard people screaming, and wanted to cry. She never wanted to hurt anyone. Why was she chosen for this?

 

She found a field, more like a forest, where she sat down. Behind her, there were tanks and people with many kinds of weapons. She didn't see them, or feel them for that matter. It just tingled, like her back was falling asleep. “Goodness...what's that?” She asked herself, turning around.

 

“Die monster!” The apparent leader said to her, throwing a grenade towards her eye. She frowned as they continued their onslaught against her. She couldn't understand. She wasn't there to harm them, but they still wanted to kill her. Maybe they didn't understand. She had killed some of them. But she couldn't help it! They didn't move fast enough. She figured she could try and explain to them.

 

“No! Please you don't understand. I don't want to hurt you! I don't even really know how I ended up here! I just want to stay here and leave you be. All I want is to be able to survive until something happens to change the situation.”

 

The people seemed to be thinking this over. They weren't whispering, but their normal talks sounded like hums and whispers to her. Finally, the leader started to yell. “No! All you are is a monster. You will never be able to not harm us. You don't have a right to live! You're different from us!”

 

She was so shocked. How could they feel that way. She was different, yes, but so were all of them. No two people were alike. She talked like them, walked like them, and breathed like them. The only difference between them was size. Why did she have no right to live, if only because she was bigger than them. This angered her. She had done nothing intenionally to them! She had so much power, she could destroy their whole race!

 

Wait...

 

“You think you're so much better? You're puny! You're pathetic! I can kill all of you with a single move! You're going to kill me? Ha!” She scooped them up in her hand. Then, she balled her hand into a fist, feeling thousands of them die in her hands.

 

A feeling of sick, inhuman joy swept through her. She kept squeezing her hand, feeling their bodies squish inside her grip. Her stomach rumbled. She was hungry. She looked at the carnage her hand had caused, and smirked. She put them down, and dug a hole. She then broke apart two huge trees, and rubbed them together until they caught fire, and put them in the hole. She looked around, and saw a stadium with a metal dome on it. She put that over the pit, and put the carcasses in that.

 

The bodies cooked in the bowl, and the smell of cooking humans filled the world that she was on. She took food out of the bowl, the heat not phasing her as she chewed up. It was delicious. What had she been missing all these years, not eating meat?

 

She could hear people scream as they realized what she was doing. “God you people are loud. Would you shut up?” Then, she thought. If she could keep them from trying to kill her, she could control them by hurting them.

 

She stood up, and started kicking the houses and buildings down. “Didn't I tell you to be quiet?!” She yelled, her voice booming. People were running, trying their best not to scream. She was not impressed, and she crunched them with her feet. She laughed, enjoying the feeling of their bodies squishing beneath her foot.

 

She felt a sharp pain in her foot, and looked at it. She had a bone stuck in it. She frowned and took it out. It was a femur. “Ow. That wasn't nice. You people putting your bones inside me.” She said, tossing the bone and kicking the group of people who were cowering before her. They flew a few miles, seeming amazing and horrifying to them but seeming unimpressive to her.

 

She walked to the group, and sat down in front of them. “So...What can you people offer me in exchange for your lives?” She wanted to know if they would be more willing to bargain with her now, now that they knew she meant business. Perhaps aggression was indeed an effective way of negotiating.

 

They started screaming, begging for their lives. She just chuckled. “That's it?” She stood up, killing most of them. But one, one managed to slip out. It was a woman, obviously very pregnant. She was sobbing. “Please, please! I don't want to die! I want my baby to live! Please! I don't know what we've done, but little Mariah hasn't done anything yet! She hasn't even taken her first breath!”

 

The woman was on her knees, near her feet, begging and pleading. Anie started to tear up. “Oh what have I done!?” She asked woefully. She was a monster. “You may live.” She said softly, turning around and going back to the field.

 

She had no idea what she was to do. These people hated her, but did they truly deserve death? She curled up, looking at the sky. She took a deep breath, and slept, hoping that when she awoke she would have newfound clarity.

They say love is like a battlefield. This is far truer than is ever taken. For me, love is not a battlefield because of the constant struggle between two partners. For me, love is a battlefield because there are ghosts that haunt the territory. Remnants of lovers past.  The pain, the struggle, and mistreatment of former lovers weighing down the opinions and feeling, a little voice in the back of my mind foreshadowing the inevitable pain. A battlefield comparable to Gettysburg, haunted by the things I'd thought I'd left behind.