It was my thirteenth summer and I lived in an 1869, Victorian style house in North Eastern Minnesota; which means it was a huge drafty old house during the winter. However, during the summer, it was hotter than hell upstairs. My family needed to use fans in every room to pull the heat that rose to the top of the house outward. It did work and it was quite a comfortable feeling. Probably not so much on the electric bill, but at thirteen one did not think of such things.

No, in nineteen eighty-five, a thirteen-year-old girl only thought of one thing; Rick Springfield. Yes, he was to die for. A tall, dark and handsome man from Australia. Every thirteen-year-old was in love with this man. We knew all of his songs, his history, when his birthday was... August 23, 1949, for those wondering. We loved Rick. We saw him in concert. We bought every magazine possible that had any little tiny word related to Rick Springfield.

It should come as no surprise; my bedroom walls were covered with Rick Springfield posters. Three, in fact, I can picture them now. All were hanging on my wall. I could watch Rick before falling asleep and Rick could watch me fall asleep every night. The perfect match. Now, of course, every other "teeny bopper" in the world was doing the same. However, I can pretend I was the only one.

So, when we had our paranormal experience together, I would like to think it was as special for him as it was for me. I mean it's not every day a ghost comes to visit.

It was in the summer, in the middle of the night, how cliche? Now my bedroom was a "halfsy" of a real bedroom. My father, who is a carpenter, took a huge bedroom and put up a wall in the middle of this super-sized Victorian style bedroom. I got one half and my brother got the other half, the side with heat which is important in Minnesota. Anyway, I digress. My room essentially was seven by eight feet; a cracker box as my mother would say.

I did not have a lot of room in my bedroom. It was smallish. Anyway, in order to save space, I stacked up all my games under my bed. I had a dresser, my bed, a desk, and a stand for my stereo and that was about it, not much else could fit. I was lucky I fit into my room.

Anyway, in the middle of this summer night, I had to go to the bathroom. I woke up. So, now my walkway was exceptionally narrow. With my dresser, desk, and bed, this made my walkway approximately two feet across. So, I woke up, put my feet down on the floor, walked out of the room, and went across the hall. I did my business and was gone only for a few minutes. I came back to my bedroom. I had a strange feeling, I should turn on the light. I turned on the light.

I couldn't believe what I saw. Rick, my love, my one and only, was lying on the floor. In fact, all three of my posters were covering all of my games which were pulled out from underneath my bed and covering the entire walkway that I had just walked though unheeded with my tennis shoes sitting on top of the middle Rick as neat as a pin.

Now, I can guarantee you, there is no way I could've walked through that path without stepping on all of my board games if they had been there a few minutes ago. It is highly unlikely I did this in my sleep.

What I will say, any time my father completed some sort of construction in the house, he seemed to wake up something and they, in turn, started playing tricks on us in the house. This was during a period in which my father was renovating the bathroom. As much as I would like to think that I am the only true love of Rick Springfield, it would appear as though, he is not only famous in the real world but in the paranormal world as well.