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I Am Not Scared of Ghosts Because I Believe in Science

  • Date Submitted: 12/05/2012 03:10 AM
  • Flesch-Kincaid Score: 54.8 
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A horror story not taking place after dark is practically non-existent, like an American TV show’s season finale where nobody dies or goes into labour. PHOTO: FILE
We were driving on a lonely road in Islamabad at 1:00am. We weren’t entirely sure of our location, though I was certain we were somewhere in the first twenty pages of an RL Stine novel. The ominous nature of our surroundings prompted my friends to begin a discussion on supernatural occurrences. 
As a known skeptic, my eyes reflexively roll at such references. If you ask me what my zodiac sign is, I would tell you it’s I-don’t-give-a-damn-itarius. When they talk about somebody being under a spell, I ask them to call the ministry of magic for a counter-curse at 1-800-nuclear-facepalm.
Each “true story” that my friends told me, was stupidly set in the ‘dead of the night’. It makes sense, as a horror story not taking place after dark is practically non-existent, like an American TV show’s season finale where nobody dies or goes into labour. I endured the mind-numbing parade of clichés, scoffing periodically. When accused of not being open-minded, I responded by quoting Tim Minchin:
If you open your mind too much, your brain will fall out.
I decided to grace the gathering with a horror story of my own; of a series of nightmares I’ve been having. I’ve heard it’s bad luck to discuss one’s dreams openly, but you know me. If I contract pox after this blog gets published, I’ll let you know.
For the past several years, about once a month, I wake up in the middle of the night to a profound sense of a malevolent presence. Sometimes, I can see a faceless figure at the foot-end of my bed. Once, the clothes on the floor transformed into a corpse. Each time this happens, I find myself physically paralysed, unable to call out for help or to ward off these entities. It always feels way too real to be a nightmare.
Each episode is so unnerving, that had it happened to one of my superstitious pals, he would’ve driven...

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