My Cousin Kenny

Hi Again, This is my second submission to this site. My first was about my sister's "bargain" haunted house. This story is much more personal but I feel good about the people who share this site, so I will post it here. Feel free to share thoughts about this story. I only hope that none of my relatives read this site because this story might upset them. I have never told them about these experiences.

The story begins late in the night/very early morning, after midnight, January 1, 1977 (New Years Eve). I am 8 years old at the time, I will turn 9 at the end of January that year. My mother, my brother and myself were living in the basement apartment of my grandmother's house. We are all sound asleep when we are suddenly awakened by shrieking from upstairs where my grandmother lives. We are all three woken up and we head up the stairs at a run. My grandmother is on her knees on the kitchen floor (I know this is really bad) on the phone, shrieking and crying. My mother, ashen, moves toward my grandmother and gently takes the phone from her. She speaks into the phone. My uncle is on the line. He tells my mother that my cousin Kenny has been killed in an accident, by a drunk driver. He was 17 years old.

This instance begins the inward collapse of a portion of my family. The house is in chaos that night. My mother tells me and my brother what has happened. My brother, who is just 7 at the time, is distraught. Once it begins to dawn on me what has happened, I immediately curse God and fall to the floor, blacking out. My cousin was the source of much joy and love in our family and my brother and I fiercely loved him.

The wake, funeral and burial are held over the next few days... My brother and I are not allowed to attend any of it. I tell my mother I want to be a part of saying goodbye, but she tells me I am too young.

Here begins, I suppose, the ghost story portion of this tale. In the basement apartment, my brother and I shared a room. His bed was near the door. My bed was against the far wall, opposite the door. At the foot of my bed was a tall children's wardrobe, one side was a tall set of drawers, the other side was a vertical closet with a door. Since it stands at the foot of my bed, you know that I make certain every night that the closet door is shut tight... otherwise, how is a young child to sleep? With a dark and creepy closet door ajar? I think not!

So, yes, I would close the door every night before I climbed beneath the covers. Then, one night, a few days after my cousin was laid to rest, I woke in the middle of the night with the closet door ajar, open. I looked and saw a figure in the closet. It moved forward toward me in the bed and stopped a few feet away from where I lay. I was not afraid... It was my cousin who had been killed. So his appearance just made me feel sad. I cried out of sadness and he gave me a tender look. Then he began to speak to me. He told me that I should not have cursed God, that God had nothing to do with his dying. He said it was just an accident. Then he told me that he loved me very much and that he had come to say goodbye. I think that I told him I loved him too and then cried some more, but told him goodbye also. We talked a bit more, but it is difficult to remember. After a while, he seems to go, I seem to fall back to sleep, and the next I recall, it is morning.

This same scenario plays out every few nights, almost the same every time, for the next month. Until finally it does not happen anymore.

I think this happened because my cousin was torn so quickly from his family that he needed to linger, but also because I blamed God and my cousin wanted to make sure I did not curse God for his accident. Then I think it was just because we had a special bond, he and I. I am not sure. And no one else in my family has spoke of having similar experiences with him after he was killed. Then again, if they did, they might be just as reluctant as I am to talk about it. Kenny's death was one of the major traumas to happen to my family, so it would have been difficult to discuss real thoughts, much less talk about seeing his ghost.

What do folks think? It would be nice to hear some thoughts on this experience. This is the first time I am telling this story to anyone. :)