Murmurs



I was starting to think I was insane. At least then I’d have a reasonable explanation for what’s been happening to me. It didn’t used to be this way. In fact, for a long period of time, things were so peaceful, it was almost annoying. I was always bored, but after what’s been happening lately, I don’t think I have the recklessness to make such a complaint.

Lately, when I close my eyes and attempt to sleep, I hear the mumbling of a woman. No matter how hard I listen, I can’t understand what she’s saying. She doesn’t sound angry or anything, it just sounds as if she’s having a conversation with someone, but I only hear her. The first couple of times I shot upright in bed and sat up, thinking a stranger was in the house. Don’t get me wrong, I live with other people and two of them are women, but I could tell it wasn’t either of them. My boyfriend instantly asked me what was wrong, because I’m usually out pretty fast when I go to bed. I just uttered quietly, “Did you hear that?”

Though it was dark, I knew he was giving me that weird look. You know, that weird look people give you when they think you’ve lost your marbles? He gives me that look a lot. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You mean you don’t hear her?”

“Hear who?” He sounded incredulous. He clearly didn’t believe me.

At that point, I just stared into the blackness of the room, still sitting up. I was a little disturbed. “I thought I heard a woman. She was talking, but… I couldn’t understand her.”

A faint mumble escaped him and I felt him shift in the bed, turning over to go back to sleep. “Go back to sleep, you were just dreaming.”

After that night, I phoned my mother. She said that there was schizophrenia on her side of the family, but not since my grandfather. I looked up symptoms and a lot of them fit, and I really began to think that was the reasoning behind that voice I heard.

A few weeks passed before a family friend dropped by. He asked us to watch his five-year-old son, and of course, we didn’t mind so much. After all, that kid was well-behaved. I fell asleep on the couch, as I was tired from playing with the little squirt all day. He hopped up on my lap and started making a fuss, clearly in attempt to wake me up. Jolted awake, I stared back to the kid. His eyes were wide and he looked frightened.

“The lady won’t stop talking!”

I felt my own eyes bulge a little as I stared back to him; only catching a glimpse of a shadow perched in the old rocking chair we bought from a resale shop.

I never spoke to my boyfriend of this. He refuses to believe in ghosts or anything else that hasn’t been proven by science, but I know what I saw and heard, and I doubt that the little boy that I had to watch over has forgotten it.

To this day, as I start to drift away, I often still hear the gentle mumbling of a woman. I occasionally see shadows moving in peculiar ways, but for some reason, I don’t feel threatened. Only one thing disturbs me about hearing her speak, aside from my inability to understand her.

Who is she talking to?