Hello, my name is Jessica. I am 19 years-old and live in Arizona. At the time of this story I was about 8 years-old and visiting my grandparents in Georgia. This story has become a little less frightening, and a little more sad over the years, but sometimes at night when I think about it, I still get these horrible chills down my spine.
I remember everything perfectly, stories like this, don't fade.
During every summer of my childhood I spent a week at my grandmother's home in Georgia. In fact, the whole family would meet there for a family reunion. We are a relatively large family and very close. Grandmother's house was one of those spectacular edifices left over from the pre-civil war era. It has been in our family for two generations, and before that we can trace the owners back to the 1830's.
The house itself was huge with a lazy southern porch and lots of lofty rooms and parlors. In the back of the house was an massive expanse of lawn which feathered into a small thicket of woods.
One night, after filling up on a huge dinner, all the cousins decided to play "German Spotlight" in the lawn and adjoining woods. We all gathered together and chose one of the cousins to be "it". We then stealthily snuck off in different directions. I was a brave little girl and skipped hiding in the lawn all together, I quickly jogged into the woods, unabashed at the time by the gnarled trees and sticker bushes. I kept my pace until I realized that I could no longer hear my cousin counting. I became a little frightened and decided to go back to the oak tree that was "base". Being "it" once wouldn't be bad. I turned around, and realized I wasn't sure how to get back.
My grandmother had turned off the porch lights so as not to interrupt our game, and I now had no way to orientate myself. I became very afraid. I began running recklessly through the underbrush, trying to make my way to the safety of my relatives when I heard a soft cry. I was relieved, surely the cry came from another cousin who had gotten lost. I made my way toward to direction of the whimper and stopped near a clearing in the brush. I slowly pushed a bunch of branches away and saw a little girl standing there. She was standing there, but right away I knew in a way she wasn't really there. Her skin was black as night, but shimmery in the moonlight. Her hair was braided tightly into two little braids the ended just at her ears. She wore a shapeless white shift that appeared to be made of course cotton. As I stood staring, unable to move, she brought a small fist up to her eye and let out another pitiful whimper. When she moved, I could see her whole body ripple like Obi Wan's message in Star Wars.
I finally found my voice and let out a shriek with all my might. The little girl's eyes got real wide, then looked sadder then ever. She turned around, and I saw that her feet didn't touch the ground, in fact, she didn't even appear to have feet. Her body trailed away into a fine mist. It was then that I saw something that still scares me at night. When she turned, I saw that her course garment hung in bloody tatters on her back, and through the holes of her dress I saw long ugly whip marks that crisscrossed her entire back. At this sight I closed my eyes and again let the loudest scream that my vocal chords would allow. That is exactly as my Mother and Father found me. Standing in the middle of the woods, with my eyes tightly shut.
Nobody doubts this story. Pre-civil war almost all the homes near my grandmother's had slave quarters on the property. We know that my grandmother's house also had slave quarters and found some records that suggest they were near the woods. My grandmother has since passed away, and the house was sold. I recently found out that they converted it into a bed and breakfast.
I will never know who that little girl was, but I hope she finds peace.
Contact me here: Operastarlette@hotmail.com