Startled by Ghost Whisper

I was working late one night last week at my “real job” office. I was the only one on my floor of offices, (I had walked around the floor a little while before, and no one was anywhere to be seen), and all was very, very quiet. It was the kind of quiet you only find in an empty office building; long halls of dark offices and closed doors. An almost eery quiet.

Well, I was calling it a night and locked my computer. When I turned in my chair to reach down and collect my backpack, (read: “briefcase”), someone right over my shoulder said, “Psst,” in my ear. It startled the hell out of me, and I shouted.

I whirled around in my chair to see no one in my office. My door was even still closed to a crack. Sheesh, I thought, as my heartbeat slowed back down. That was weird.

I swear, it really sounded like a person’s voice right next to me. Obviously it must have been my chair squeaking, or my shoe on the carpet, or some other mundane sound. How loud did I shout? I thought. Good thing I’m the only one here right now.

So I picked up my backpack, stood up and opened my office door. I stepped out, locked and closed the door, and then saw someone round the corner about 30 feet down the hall. It was a coworker, and he had a concerned look on his face.

He said, “Did you just hear someone shout?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It was me.”

The absurdity and embarrassment of it all made me start laughing. Through my chuckling, I explained how I had just heard a disembodied voice whisper in my ear, and it startled me to shout. He started laughing, too. By the end of my explanation, we were both nearly doubled over with laughter.

“But you’re okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I assured. I could feel the heat of my red face from the laughter and embarrassment.

We said goodnight to each other, and he went on back to his office, and I went on to the elevators.

Once I was all calm and collected, I thought about the ghostly incident some more. I swear that really sounded like the voice of someone standing right next to me. It didn’t sound like a chair squeak or a shoe scrape, or any other non-voice sound. I have a pretty strong imagination, but I long ago came to accept that ghosts and such don’t really exist. I don’t know if my lack of belief in the paranormal is really an intellectual calculation or if it is just hopeful thinking because I don’t like the idea of invisible beings watching me when I’m alone. I mean, if there is a ghost in my office, it wouldn’t just see me when I’m picking up my backpack, but it would be there to see me blow my nose and scratch my butt, too.

Ghost stories never mention apparitions appearing to people sitting on the toilet. Disembodied voices never recite back your Facebook password. I guess some scares are just too much for many people to contemplate.

Bullgrit