The Springhouse

I have never been one to discount the supernatural but it always seemed to me to be a form of entertainment, that is until my experience.

At the time my husband worked for a bottled springwater company. They obtained all of their springwater from an ancient spring in Northeast Ohio that was located in what appeared to be a quaint old-fashioned ivy covered springhouse surrounded by trees and a slow flowing stream.

It was a beautiful Fall Saturday when I went to work with my husband. His job that day was to drive up to the spring to fill the tanker truck with springwater, so I tagged along since I had never been to the springhouse. We got the the spring around noon and I got out to walk around the grounds while he hooked up tubes to the truck. Everything was so peaceful and quite, the perfect day. After a while he asked if I wanted to go inside the springhouse with him because he needed to do some maintenance. The springhouse was cobblestone and clay and once inside you could see the moss on the walls. Gradually the floor graded down to the opening of the spring and you could hear the bubbling of the water. It wasn't very well lit, a few old bulbs hung from wires off the tin ceiling.
I was standing at the edge of the opening to see the bubbling spring when all of a sudden I was terrified and had the distinct feeling that I was falling. I started screaming and my husband ran over to me. "Very funny" was what I got when he reached me. He thought I was kidding! While I remained standing in the same spot he turned to walk away and tripped. "Now why did you push me?" he yelled then walked away. I hadn't even touched him! I physically could move but did not have the will to move away from that spot. I felt very cold and wet. I have never been so scared in my life.
Finally, after about fifteen minutes, I turned to walk out of the springhouse, totally exhausted. I reached the door but instead of feeling elated to be out of that building I felt extreme grief. Something very sad happened either in that springhouse or the spring itself.

As we were leaving my husband said not to scare him like that again because every time he goes there he gets creeped out and sometimes he hears the faint sound of a child crying out for help. When he said that the little hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I couldn't bring myself to look back at the spring even though I wanted to.

I have never been back there.

Submitted by Anonymous