Highlander, Goodbyes, and Ghosts

May 24th, 2008

Yeah thats right, I’m going to briefly talk about the movie Highlander. If you would like to skip this, just scroll down until you reach the bold line about Mark and if your not familiar with the movie consider watching it. (Its quite good for a 1990′s semi sci-fi action drama.) However, the usa network (same folks that brought us the award-winning series Monk, played by Tony Shaloup) created a Highlander series that was fantastic, even without Sean Connery. Then again, you listening to a guy who owns the first three seasons of Battlestar Galactica. NERD ALERT!

Ok so I see we lost 90% of our readers — Let me explain. There is a class of humans locked in a epic universal challenge. These so called humans can live forever, with but one weakness; death by decapitation. Upon their decapitation all their power, and the powers of those they killed will be transfered to the killer. Throughout time battles have been won creating very powerful people, but in the end, there can only be one…

Whoops lost the remaining 10% — Mark would have stopped me from writing this… Oh yeah, there is my point!

Mark has gone home to California.

Mark is like Sean Connery in the movie. He paved and prepared me for the path of world adventure, gave me the opportunity, and just like Sean… left me without a companion and fellow traveler. No he didn’t die, but he changed his final departure date and flew back to California a few days ago.

I’m not fully qualified to tell you his reasoning behind this, complicated as they were, one would need a human psychology doctorate in order to begin to devolve. So, feel free to ask him yourself and maybe you can find the answer your looking for… but all I know is he found his.

To tell you the truth I envied him when I boarded the train to the south of Italy. I too was a little homesick. Friends and loved ones faces blurred through my mind in a Los Angeles beaming highway fury. Clawing the landscape has left dirt between my nails and having a place to actually call home, and feelings of settling have already started a foundation… Living like a bum these past few months, with much excitement and many worries., has taken a few years off my existence.

But these feelings instantly vanished as I found my next makeshift home! A vacated haunted mansion at the top of a hill overlooking the city of Salerno on the famous Almalfi Coast of southern Italy. As Robin Leach would say…

With four stories, roof access, and over 20 rooms… this haunted gem boast not only ghosts but fine beach style living fit for a young homeless pauper. Valued at the price of free, as long as you don’t mind the sheets, chains and moans.

The white ghastly beast hung four stories high, on a small cliff side surrounded by trees and a clashing orange building fence, even the color contrast had an hypnotic effect that drew me to it. The bottom floor was all boarded up as if to keep whatever lurked in its confined prison, but there was a bit of scaffolding on the side… where I made my intrusion. Dust scattered, the entire place was gutted but I couldn’t tell if it was a complete renovation of just being hatched.

I carefully and quietly chose a room near the scaffolding, in case a quick exit needed to be made and naturally, the one with the best seaside view. As the sun set on rooftops, I boiled watter for tea, yawned, and swiftly prodded the dust into a pillow.

As I lay shifting restlessly, I heard the sound of footsteps and seen movement amongst the shadows made by the orange low glow of street lamps. I rose from bed, stuck my head around the corner from a spot in the shadows, I carefully checked for visitors. Nothing. It was most likely my vivid imagination but I felt just then: this house had vibes, bad ones.

Even in sleep my body was restless, left and right sides of my mind were racing and just like all the other times, my logical side was losing. I fell into nightmares. They were some of the most terrifying I had ever experienced, jerking me awake and making me breathing heavily. The one I could remember had gleaming bright lights that blinded me as stark white faces looked away from me into the pasty white scenery, as I would attempt to approach to get a better look, ghastly amounts of blood would soak clothes, sheets, and floors; white dissolved into red. Then with a loud “wham” the faces shot around, they were disfigured and bloody, no smiles… just piercing eyes of people I couldn’t recognize.

After two nights of noises and dreams, the last straw fell, making me leave my private mansion. At witching hour, I awoke, looked around and saw nothing. Defensively, I rolled over so my back was against a wall and starred into the room, more importantly the doorway. There I lay apprehensively, sometimes tossing my head upwards when hearing creaks and other sounds in the room above me. The room felt dense and hard to breath. Then finally I relaxed after what seemed like an eternity of stillness and my eyes closed.

Just then, whispers of inaudible hot breath flowed through my ear. I let out a loud “whaa!” and sat straight up and scurried against the wall in fear.

I left early the next day… and only looked back, once. Clouds gathered from behind the mansion and it rained for the next few days. During my hikes through the coastal mountains, the rain felt sticky, like saliva from the condensing warm breath of a mansion coaxing somebody into its dry grip. I never returned.

Entry Filed under: Italy