Having replacement surgery of my right hip in September has left me rather foggy brained. I struggled with writing only being able to concentrate for short periods. I spent time binge watching Ghost Hunters as simple, mindless entertainment. As I thought about what to write in my befuddled state, I remembered a story I had written a few years ago about my own, personal experience with the paranormal when I was in high school. It seemed appropriate to share this in the month of October when our thoughts turn to all things ghostly on Halloween. I hope you enjoy reading Part One of my scary, true tale. Part Two will follow on October 15. Stay spooky my friends!
Autumn had already swept most of the leaves from the trees, their sad remains clogging walkways and corners. The unmistakable sense of approaching winter hung in the air, like a bird of prey about to swoop. The night was dark, and we were young and reckless and looking for adventure. At least that is what I told myself. What we really were was a bunch of silly high school students. We were members of the Manville High School Drama Club. Our play practices usually ran until about seven or eight o’clock at night. Being young and irresponsible we did not go home after practice to do homework as sensible students would, no, instead we looked for adventure, driving around for about an hour or more before heading home. Laughing and talking we drove into the country that night investigating roads we had not travelled before; following our noses to see where they would lead.
The abandoned barn appeared to rise out of the surrounding dark as a more material darkness, like an entity calling us to look up and take note. The road took a ninety-degree bend as country roads sometimes do, a reminder of how they had been cut around farm fields of the past; and as we made the turn the barn rose to our right. We stopped. How could we not? It called out to our spirit of wonder, “Stop and know me; stop and find the answer.”
My position in the front passenger seat gave me an unobstructed view of the old building. It was large with a series of four high windows spanning the second story. I don’t know if that was normal for barns of that area, but it was the way this barn had been built.
We sat and stared, wondering; there were no other buildings close to the barn. It sat like a lone sentinel in the weed-infested field. A new development of homes could be seen up the road, dim in the distance; but the barn dominated its own space without encroachment of any trees or other structures. Alone. Solitary. Dark. Calling.
The six of us sat for some time, silent, pondering the thing before us; then we all began to speak at once.
“Look at that.”
“I wonder how old it is?”
Tom sat in the driver’s seat with Ray was between Tom and me. Having called shotgun, and I claimed the window seat. The other girls claimed the back seat. The general consensus was that this barn was noteworthy, and worthy of study. We agreed to park for a bit to digest the mystery surrounding the lone barn.
That’s when the light show started.
I hope this caught your attention and left you wanting more.