Whistler

Let me start by saying I do NOT believe in "ghosts..." I will concede that the Earth is a diverse and mysterious place and we do not currently possess all the science necessary to understand much of it. Consider briefly how far we have come in the last century alone, how many of our misunderstandings are now known and how much of the mysterious has become almost mundane. Lighting is a meteorological effect and is not the result of angry deities, for example. I am a rational, highly educated 29-year old male from the United States. We have a rather limited amount of history in the "New World" and put a premium on science. I do not believe that the dead can return to Earth to interact with the living.

That said, I have no idea what happened to me last week in Holland. And now I wonder what I REALLY know.

My girlfriend and I checked-in to an old hotel on the outskirts of Amsterdam on Monday night, September 24, 2007. We had the room for two nights and planned to leave for Schipol Airport on Wednesday morning for a flight to Prague, Czech Republic. Monday night passed without incident, as did most of the day Tuesday. It was not until about 11:30 PM on Tuesday night that something occurred, the root of which I cannot explain.

We were packing-up our bags so we could check-out quickly in the morning. She was packing hers on the far side of our small 7 foot by 12 foot room. I was near the door packing mine. As I bent down to shove some clothes into my bag, I experienced a jabbing sensation on the right side of my back near my kidneys. It felt as though four fingers or blunt, prong-like rods or something poked into my back. Hard. And I mean with unmistakable force. I leapt up and wheeled around I was so surprised. I don't know what I expected to see, but there was nothing there. There was nothing even close by that I could have backed into except for the door and it was a good meter away from me. My girlfriend noticed that I jumped up very quickly and how startled I was looking around myself. She looked at me and asked what happened. I didn't want to scare her, but merely told her I thought something poked me in the back. She looked at me skeptically, but knows how logical I am and went back to packing. I tried to rationalize it as just in my mind, but this was difficult as I have zero doubt that I was deliberately and distinctly touched by something with force significant enough not to be disregarded. At any rate, we had to rise early, so I put it out of mind and we went to bed.

We had been given (much to our chagrin) a room with bunk beds. She slept on the top while I took the bottom bunk. I put in my standard earplugs I take traveling with me and we were soon asleep. But not for long. At about 2 AM, as I was sleeping on my right side, I felt something flicking at my left ear. I thought it was a bug of some sort and sleepily brushed at it without raising my head. Within a few seconds, something again flicked at my ear. Now I was wide awake because I thought there might be a cockroach or something on my pillow and the thought disgusted me, so I sat up and looked around. There was no insect. I laid back down on my right side and placed the right side my head on the pillow to try to sleep.

Immediately, something touched my ear again and this time, without raising my head, using my left hand, I pulled my earplug out of my ear. Absolutely immediately, within less than a second of having dislodged the plug something whistled LOUDLY in my left ear. It was as if someone's mouth was an inch or two away from my ear and whistled right into it with gusto. I could tell that it was organic in nature because it was not a perfect tone, that is, it was not manmade like an alarm or an electronically produced noise. It was imperfect, as if someone was whistling with lips too dry to make a good seal. It was a three-tone tune that I will never forget. I do not understand octaves, but suffice to say it went from high to low. And it was loud, very loud, so loud that if you were concentrating on something and a prankster friend snuck up behind you to whistle in your ear, it would make you jump. But I didn't jump; I froze. Solid. For about a minute. Sheer and absolute terror coursed through my body. I did not breathe, I did not move, I could not cry out.

I tried to call my girlfriend's name, but the words would not come. Finally, after about a minute (which seemed like an eternity) I mustered up enough vigor to say her name. On the third try, she awoke, startled, sensing the fear in my voice, "What is it, babe?!" And what could I say but, "Um, something just whistled in my ear. Really, really loudly... Can you please come down here and get in bed with me?" She complied and we proceeded to put two and two together. Whatever pushed me earlier was toying with me now. Again, I'm a 29-year old guy who goes camping without flashlights and teaches high school in a tough neighborhood in Brooklyn, New York -- I am not a push-over. But here I was asking my girlfriend to get into bed with me because I'm scared of something I cannot understand. I'm hesitant to use the word "ghost," but I just don't know how else to describe this encounter.

But this encounter was not over. After about 20 minutes, she was asleep, but sleep eluded me and would not return. That's when my previous fear grew to epic proportions. Suddenly, I heard the whistling again, but fainter and out in the hallway right outside our door. This time, the three tones were following by several more so that it made a little song that I didn't recognize as anything formal. It was just as if someone was whistling a tune they were making up. It contained long and short tones, high and low and was quite varied. I heard it go from one end of the hallway to the other. There was nobody else on our floor that night. At this point, I was petrified. I have never been so scared in my entire life. It was sweltering under the covers with her, but I dared not expose anymore of my body than necessary due to extreme fear. These are the emotions and thoughts of a small child, but there I was, a grown man, scared of the dark.

After about another half hour or so (the parallax of time was confusing at this point as the seconds dragged by agonizingly slow) I realized my mouth was dry from nervous energy. I looked for our water bottle which I had sat over to my left when we got into bed. This was the exposed part of the bed since the right side was flush against the wall. At first, I could not make-out what I witnessed. What I saw was a milky figure blurring the area between my bed and the desk on which my girlfriend's backpack was resting. I knew our water bottle was on the desk with other traveling acutrements, but I could not see them clearly due to this mist. I sat up slightly and peered very hard and it looked almost like a wrinkled shower curtain between us and the desk, which was no more than a meter from the bed. It then dissipated and I could then clearly see the contents of the desktop. Suffice to say, I did not sleep the rest of the night. Eventually, she awoke at about 5:30 sensing that I was not sleeping and asked if we should just check-out then. I don't need to tell you my reply. We were headed for the airport hours early and glad to be out of that room.

That was a week ago today and I am still very shaken. I cannot explain what had happened to me that night and cannot wrap my brain around it. For a moment, I wondered if this was the commencement of dementia. I was questioning my very sanity, and it hasn't stopped there. I am now questioning everything I think I know about physics. I live alone and have never been afraid of the dark or anything like that. Now, I am almost constantly ruffled. We returned to the States last night and I am sleeping at my girl's place tonight. Eventually, I will have to go back to my apartment alone, but am wary to do so. I am not sure I will never feel the same.

Can anyone shed some light on this situation, please? I cannot state adamantly enough how honest I am being here. I have no reason to lie and am looking sincerely for answers.

Thank you.