Martin Ebon (editor) - True Experiences With Ghosts - Signet - 1968

Cover of True Experiences magazine, November 1948 issue.

some terf: what you just said was MISOGYNISTIC. I will free you from the males that brainwashed you and let you accept your lesbianism 💖💖 FEMinism is for FEMALES ONLY.

Martin Ebon (editor) - True Experiences in Exotic ESP - Signet - 1968

It was the night of July 21st, 2016, a night that I would never forget just for an event that will occur. My parents were both working an overnight shift, and my brother was on campus at his University, which left me alone in my empty house, which was a rarity. Now, unlike other teenagers that exist in my time, my first thought was to not go to a party and just stay in the house for the night. It was a Thursday after all, and I wasn’t expecting one to be going on that night anyway, but as usual, I was quite mistaken. It was around nine thirty when the first text from my friend Sam, who had caught wind that I was not under the strict dictation of my parents, was sent.    “Allen is having a party at his house! You should totally come!” It felt like I could hear her high pitched voice through the dimly lit screen. I began to weigh the options in my head like I was solving for x in my high school math class. It was either I said no, and subjected myself to the full-blown lecture that Sam would’ve given me about how uptight I have become because of my parents, or I said yes, and completely avoided that whole situation period. I chose the option that got me out of the lecture of course and proceeded to get ready.    Once we arrived at the relatively large, and crowded house party, I immediately went to the kitchen, and poured some water into my red solo cup, hoping that it would pass off as vodka, so I didn’t have to drink. Sam and I had separated by this point; she had several other friends who had just arrived right when I left her side, so she was preoccupied. I decided to lean against a deserted wall, various groups of people surrounding me, cheering a random guy who was doing a keg stand. I just shook my head, reminding myself that I was there to make memories and have fun and that I wasn’t there to be a party pooper. I think I stayed glued to the light pink wallpaper for what felt like an eternity until my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. Instantly I pulled the phone out, bringing it into my view, seeing that the call was coming in from my mother's work number. It was a rare thing to be getting a phone call from my mother this late in the night, so I ran outside, quickly finding a place that was quiet enough so she wouldn’t hear the blaring music through the speaker. I picked up my phone, greeting her as casually as I possibly could, and that’s when I heard the serious tone that her voice had. I thought that I had been caught, which made my heart rate increasing with every breath I took, as I asked what was up, trying to play off my panicked tone for concern. She had replied with the most devastating news that I will never forget for the entirety of my life. “Gracie got hit by a drunk driver...Her parents just called, and told me she didn’t make it.” It felt like my world had stopped, yet from a distance, I could still hear the drunken cheering coming from the backyard of Allen’s house. Gracie had been one of my closest friends since I was a child, and the news struck me like a ton of bricks, each piece falling onto my head in rapid succession. I didn’t even realize that I had dropped my red solo cup on the grass beneath me, as tears began to fall down my face. My mother proceeded to say sorry to me and said that she had to get back to work and that we would talk when she got home. She then hung up, leaving me to fight off my emotional turmoil all by myself. I felt like I couldn’t even walk, yet my legs were just on autopilot, carrying me back to the house. I didn’t want people to see me crying, so I looked for shelter within one of the bedrooms, but they were all filled with hormonal teenagers that couldn’t handle their alcohol intake. The one door I didn’t try though, ended up leading me to the attic of the house, providing me with the shelter of loneliness that I needed at that moment. I took up space in the corner of the dusty attic, my knees against my chest as I tried to drown out the overly upbeat and happy music. I didn’t think that anyone would find me up here, until a guy around my age came up, greeting me as gently as he could after he realized that I was crying. I didn’t even have the energy to say to him to go away, and like any average moral person, he seemed genuinely concerned about what was wrong.    “I am only trying to help.” He said, taking a seat beside me. I tried to wipe my eyes to get a better look at him so I could see who it was since his image was quite blurry to me, yet the tears still streamed down my face like a waterfall. I never got to see him, but I can only remember the comforting hug that he gave me to calm me down. He reassured me that everything happens for a reason and that whatever happened didn’t happen just for the hell of it.    The one specific thing that I remember from that moment was the thought of people being placed in your life in particular moments to give a life lesson. This guy was that one person that gave me the life lesson that the little things can go a long way. The man with no name will forever remain in my memory, and will probably never go away because it will always be the one moment that reminds me that there are still good people in the world who have unconditional caring to everyone that they encounter.

“There is no guilt hidden within them. We’re objects for them to abuse, and then when they’re done, they shame us into silence. They have zero remorse for the lives they destroy.”