The Scary Truth

The ghost of John Wayne- Kings Cross 

Although I should know better I watched BBC Breakfast this morning before work. It is not till you move to London that you realise how London centric the news is. For instance 9 times out of 10  the 'man or woman (no sexism here)  on the street' opinion is collected by talking to people on Chiswick High road. I know this to be true as I lived there fr 2 years and was asked many times. This is unless they want to portray the British public as public as ignorant and then they head north... usually to Barnsley.  It was a quiet news day so a main feature was on why do 1 in 4 people in Britain believe in ghosts. A burning question. 

Whilst living in my flat in west London I had the strangest experience. After a night at the pub, I woke in the middle of the night with  one of those difficult decisions. Do I need a the toilet or am I just imagining it and shall I leave it till the morning...a high risk game. After much deliberation I decided not to risk it and slid out of bed trying not to wake my girlfriend of the time, slipped on some boxers (we shared a flat with friends), and crept to the bathroom. Being windowless I was forced to switch the light on thus rendering me blinded till my eyes adjusted. Mission accomplished, I then preceded to wash my hands like the hygienic soul I am. There was a a big mirror behind the sink and as I bent down to was my hands it happened...... And this is true. 

I felt a cold finger run right down my back. Not a quick sensation. A clear and what I can only describe as a deliberate run of a finger from shoulder to lumber region. 

The door was locked and because of the mirror I could see there was noone or nothing behind me. I thought it may have been the light pull but but that was still. I was in just a pair of boxers and suddenly felt very naked and I will be honest scared. There was no rational explanation....it had to be a ghost.

 I calmly bolted from the bathroom, burst into my bedroom and put on the light, waking said girlfriend. My clear panic lead  her to think something dreadful had happened( which of course it had). I explained that I had been touched by a ghost and that there was no other explanation that fit. It turned out my experience did not warrant waking her up in such a manner. In fact it vexed her greatly. 

Annoyed at not being taken seriously, and still slightly shaken, I indignantly whipped of my boxers. 

A 50p piece then hit the laminate flooring. 

It turned out that I had fallen asleep on the coin and it had suck to my back (the dent was still there on inspection). It must have remained there until I bent over to wash my hands where then it lifted at one side, rolled down my back and lodged in the waistband of my boxers.........

It is amazing what you can end up believing in.