My cell is haunted. There I said it. Now, whenever anyone Google’s my name and see’s this they’ll know I’m at least a little nuts. I haven’t wanted to talk about this…haunting out of fear that people will think I’m crazy. But now, this thing is moving my stuff.

Not cool.

Last weekend I was sitting down with my nose buried into my tablet playing a game. It was a nice distraction from my stress for a minute. While I was intently slaying monsters my concentration was interrupted by the sound of something sliding under my bed. Now, this may sound silly to most but in prison there are only so many sounds to hear. Our space is small, the “things” we can put it those spaces limited, we all know them well. Each product we can have makes it’s own unique sound depending on which surface it slides across. This was certainly the sound of cardboard on metal.

I jerked my head up and noticed straight away that my box full of pens, which sits directly in the center of my storage shelf, was 18″ away from it’s location only moments ago. Still, I gave the benefit of the doubt and tried to blame the sudden noise on my neighbors window closing. But the box…

One of the effects of being incarcerated for a long time (in most cases) is the meticulous order and neatness of our belongings (perhaps the particulars as to why we do that are best appropriate for another post). So when somethings amiss, we know. My pens have been in the same spot for over 8 years. I don’t let them sit askew or move them because I use them so much.

So I sat there and did the only thing I could, I tried reasoning with it, “hello?”. “Can you do that again?”

I sat there staring intently at the box just sure it was about to move but after 10 seconds or so I was beginning to feel silly. But, then my power strip was thrown off my wall. I have a 6 plug surge protector fastened to my wall via very strong Velcro. It’s been securely fastened for years. Not only did the power strip get tossed but the Velcro came off the wall entirely. Sticky and all. The force nearly took my TV with it. Again, not cool.

Conclusion? My cell is haunted.

With Love
Ruth Utnage