I was never one who believed much in ghosts, but this all changed when I met Beatrix.

Beatrix, as I have come to call her, is my house ghost.  Within days of moving into the apartment, Beatrix made herself known to my roommate and I.  She was shy at first, hiding in the office in the back of the house.  She would emerge at night, creeping slowly from the office through my roommate’s bedroom and out the bedroom door.  I believe the office, a bonus room in the back of our house, was her bedroom.

Beatrix

For months this was all we saw of Beatrix until she became more comfortable with us.  Then the doors in the common area started opening on their own accord.  It had grown colder by then and when the doors opened I would get hit by a cold blast of air as the door swung to.  Again, this still was not enough for me to believe in the ghost.

It wasn’t until after numerous doors opening on their own, numerous doors that had been double checked when latched, lights being switched on in rooms we hadn’t even been in that day, and objects being moved that I began to believe that Beatrix did in fact exist.  Things started to progress, Beatrix started to become more comfortable around us and her presence became more noticeable.

Over time, it became apparent that Beatrix was a child who had lived (and possibly died?) in my house.  She lived in the tiny room in the back of the house and lives there to this day.  She emerges from her room at night, passing my roommate in her sleep and entering into the common areas of the house.  She turns the light on in her bedroom only and enjoys playing tricks on the members of my household, particularly my roommate whose room is closest and the dogs who she teases into corners.  Beatrix has moved keys, repetitively opened trash cans, and swung cabinets open at the exact time you move your head to that spot, and even slammed doors on occasion.  I have considered all practical reasoning behind the happenings that have occurred, but I have come up with no explanation that explains things better than Beatrix’s existence in my home.

New Orleans is known as the most haunted city in the United States.  The buildings here, in New Orleans, hold energy; energy that dates back centuries, manifesting itself, making itself known to those who pass through the walls.  It’s hard to say if it is because of the humidity or the crooked history of the cities residents, or both.  Whatever the reasoning, it is important to know that even though it is the most haunted city, not all ghosts are malicious, some merely exist in a neighboring universe.  Beatrix may slam doors, cause the dogs to bark, pass through my hallways and create a bit of chaos, but in the end it seems she means no harm.  If that is the case, a third roommate is okay by me!