In my dream(?), but ugh it was petrifying. Especially because I can’t be 100% confident that it was a dream unless I go back in time and set up one of those homemade ghost-cams from the Paranormal Activity films that monitor…well, paranormal activity. Thank goodness I have “my” dog staying with me in Brampton this weekend, because when I jump, she jumps, and when I jumped out of bed, to find that the sky was still dark, we ran downstairs together to grab the laptop adapter so that I could Netflix myself back to sleep and act like it was no thang at all.

But it really was, because we watched Paranormal Activity 3 the other day (Ardi, Tara and I have some kind of tradition going, which could potentially lead to its own creepy, within-a-film scenario, now that I think of it). I was plenty scared by the first two (say what you will about their gimmickry), but this time around, it was a bit different.

Danny Torrence

I have it on good authority that this was my first doppelganger. Well, isn't that excellent.

At the risk of sounding like a total psycho (which there’s little point in trying to avoid), that little girl reminded me a bit too much of myself. The subject matter of this whole franchise has always hit me on a very visceral level; few things scare me more than…what is it? Ghosts? The unknown? The dark? That feeling you get that you’re never really alone in a room? God, that stuff is the stuff of sleeping with the lights on/what just made me get up and open my door because hallways really are the best defense.

So, you’re telling me that this little kid wanders around all night, talking to ghosts/her imaginary friend and has a soft/squeaky little voice and that this all happened in 1988? Frigging fascinating. Guess what I was doing in 1988? Yeah, and I sat on chairs with those wickery backs and played with those like, nerf ice cream cone catapult things (whatever you call them, I loved them), but I had three imaginary friends and yes, I remember their names, but I will save that for another time. And no, I’m pretty sure they weren’t evil spirits. But wandering around all night? I invented that shit. The creepy, little-kid version, anyway. The difference? My mom didn’t tell me ghosts weren’t real. She did promise though, that if they were, they were most certainly well-intentioned. Oh, okay, cool.