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
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