#car ghost

Car Ghost

My first car was named "Baby", and I called her, well. Her.

My second car was also going to be a "her", but since discovering that it is haunted by some being or another, I've been working to call them by neutral terms only, since it's a little hard to ask a haunted car their gender.

Does the entity see themselves as part of the car? Separate but attached, like a person living in a house? Does their spirit reside in the electrical wires of the radio, or perhaps just the dashboard where they fiddle with the controls as they please. I do not know. I cannot ask a ghost in a car these questions. I mean. I can. But the likelihood of them finding a way to answer isn't high. Especially if they don't care too much for conversation.

"But Blake -- your car is old! It's probably just some faulty or loose wiring in the stereo."

I did consider this! Enough that I had it checked, at my mum's dealership, because that could be a possible fire hazard, yeah? But they said it all looks perfect. No faulty or loose wirings, just a normal stereo. This car had only one person who owned it before me, and he had it over 10 years. A family man, with two kids; no wrecks, no major issues with the car, just standard part repairs, maintenance, and replacement as needed for any standard vehicle. It is, by all means, the perfect used car, and dealership inspected before being given to me.

How did the spirit get in this car? Of course, I don't know the former owner. Only details from the dealership workers who told me what they knew, and little hints about his life that he left in his car -- accidental, or arguably on purpose for the intention of the next owner to just toss out. I'm naturally curious and skimmed documents, for no other purpose but to learn something about the kind stranger who just so happened to sell his perfect used car the day after I totaled my Baby, my first car, the old family car that lasted us 15+ years and, had I not looked right too long to merge, would have probably lasted me at least 10 more. A wonderful coincidence. Possibly fate, but I'm in no position to interpret the will of the random chaos that is the nature of the universe. Regardless of whether it was "meant to be" or "just so happened to be", this man unknowingly bequeathed his trusty old car to me.

According to the things he left, the car was manufactured in Indiana; he lived in Tennessee when he bought it; and eventually he moved into a comfy suburban-urban area in the state next to mine. Perhaps he moved into my state, since there are plenty of dealerships where those papers claimed he resides, making it unreasonable to travel 2 hours just to go to another; and decided to get a new car, one more cushy, more modern, better window tints, and bigger space, to drive one of his kids to soccer games; I hope those arm compressors were left intentionally in the car. I'd hate for them to be inconvenienced, considering they seemed to be a very modest, modern, nuclear family of the Midwest. One with enough patience and good sense not to wreck a car in one of the many Midwestern hellscape interstates, or even get into a fender bender, for 10 whole years.

But these are just assumptions, made by details I know about a man I've never faced, never so much as spoken to. He could be the All American Average Man, given a more nuanced temperament by the condition of the car. But he could have also been, had, and done things I wouldn't be able to tell from a car, its history, and some miscellaneous papers and various items left behind -- purposefully or not left unknown to all but him and his family. Maybe he was like me, and practiced magic of some kind. Maybe his kids made the common rebellious childhood mistake of playing with magic. Perhaps there was an accident, not one he participated in directly, but one he tried to assist in, that sadly ended unwell for some. Perhaps... it wasn't an accident. Maybe he got away with something, and All American Average Man, committing a One Time Atrocity, with enough intellect and wit to avoid mortal judgement, and enough sense to abandon a car right after -- or when it showed signs that it Knew. Or, perhaps, it came with the manufacturing, at the plant where it was constructed, or where the assembly parts were formed. Perhaps, it came from the very materials, the metals, the minerals, the plastics, that form the car.

I cannot tell, for I cannot ask. Well. I can. But I have no way of getting an answer. Easily, anyways. And I have no good reason to force whatever spirit resides in my car -- perhaps I should call it their car, since they most likely spend more time in it than I -- to answer questions purely to quell curiosity. Especially since they show no ill will. All I've dealt with is the stereo turning on when I've turned it off (it requires a genuine pressure to turn it on and off) and the volume turning up on it's own (the knob takes a few clicks to register a volume change, and takes a good finger muscle to turn). It's quite charmed me most times, and lightly startled at the worst. Namely when I mute a CD that I've played over a few times, for whatever reason, and it gets turned back on; or a song that I particularly like gets turned up. Whoever they are, I admire their love of music like I do -- and I'm pleased that they do seem to enjoy my taste in songs! Whenever my CDs are on random, and I think real hard about what I want to hear next -- it plays! Of course, I don't know if I can credit the ghost on this, or if it's my own ability to will things in existence, since that was common with my old Baby, and my ancient iPod. Or, perhaps, it garners a third option.

Perhaps, this spirit may not even be attached to the car -- but to me. If that's the case, then maybe they're a guardian angel, a beloved passed friend, the will of my endeavoring childhood self, or just... a random ghost that decided to tag around with me. I do not know. I cannot get an answer easily, and I have no reason to push for answers. It brings me no harm. If anything, it brings me companionship, a reason to better myself, a reason to be happier, be better, if to keep the phantom that walks with me content and happy while they stick around for however long they want -- or must.

However, if this is the same spirit as the Kleptoplasm that enjoys befuddling my family and, recently, my coworkers, then perhaps I may try to gently request that they let those items show up a little sooner to cause less grief to those around me. And in return, well. We'll take a midnight drive with the music loud and the windows down. That seems like a good deal, right?

I had this experience about 5 years ago. It was past midnight, I was driving home, one rainy night. I usually take the shorter way home driving inside BF Homes, Parañaque to Las Piñas (Metro Manila, Philippines). There is this street inside that village which is known for being a dumping site of murder victims in the late 70's to early 80's, this is called the Concha Cruz drive.

When I was driving along that street, I felt something or someone was starring at me, when I looked at the rear view mirror, I was shocked and almost had a heart attach, I saw this lady wearing white, but her face was blurry, I didn't know what to do, I thought of going down the car and running away from the car. But I thought I was the only one driving along that street. So what I did was to put a face towel on the rear view mirror and drove fast to get out of that street.

I talked to a friend who lived near that street and she told me that that is a restless ghost asking for help, she was raped and was dumped on that street way back 1970's. That ghost usually rides cars hoping to find the person responsible for her death. She is frequently seen after midnight especially when it's raining.

It was 8:30 in the morning, we got all up to go grocery shopping and buy supplies for my cousin's birthday. When we were all ready to leave, I was the first to get in the car (2nd hand mitsubishi Pajero) since I don't put on make-up. I was silently enjoying the car music. I didn't notice my aunt going up to the back seat. She claimed she saw a spiky-haired boy beside me looking at the opposite side to where my aunt was. She thought the boy was my youngest cousin, I only notice her saying "Miguel, where's your brother?" I looked at her wondering why she's calling me Miguel (Name: Denice). When the actual Miguel came up to the back seat, my aunt was shocked she saw the real Miguel. Looking back to the back seat where I was, she also got shocked the boy was no longer there.

Even before this happened, there were numerous counts of farts but no one was farting at all. Even if the car was 2nd hand, it was still running at a fine condition. We got scared each time we left on a trip with that car. My father even saw the boy in the back seat through the rear mirror. We were all threatened by this spiky-haired boy. We went on this trip just to bless the car to be protected from evil spirits. It never happened again, we never saw the boy nor notice one of his farting.