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Oct. 31st, 2007 06:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vivienHAPPY HALLOWEEN, MY SWEET LITTLE NIGHTMARES!
I won the Halloween costume party at work! I'll have pictures later tonight, when the trick-or-treating trickles off (although, despite our fog machine, cool sound effects, and awesome decorations... not too many kids have come by so far. *eyes the HUGE BUCKET O' CANDY and hopes for more kiddos*)
But for now, I give you one last spooky post. This is a true story, and it happened to me and my family. Some of you have heard it, but now all of you can read.
Once upon a time...
That's how stories start, even the scary ones. When I was very small, my mom and I moved to Oxford, N.C., a small town about 45 minutes north of the Raleigh-Durham area. We lived with my Aunt Mary and Uncle Bob, and I have mostly positive memories of this time. Mary stayed home with me, since I wasn't in school yet, and we had so much fun together. We played dress up and planned elaborate jokes to play on Bob and my mom, who carpooled to work together.
Mary was, and still is, an avid antiques collector. She and Bob would go off to auctions, estate sales, and flea markets all around. One night they went to an auction and came back with something quite unique. Mary had fallen in love with a very old steamer trunk. It was sold in a lot with a coffin.
I remember when they walked in, laughing about their find. I was four-and-a-half at the time, so this is a pretty vivid series of recollections. The coffin was made of very dark, splintery wood. It was narrow and it looked so, so old. There were bent back nails in the frame, and the adults figured it must have been a viewing coffin used by a funeral home. My mom was freaked out, as she has always been more superstitious and uptight about the supernatural than anyone in the family. Bob and Mary were all for bringing it inside at once, but Mom threw a hissy fit and they left it outside on the patio.
I was enthralled, since from the beginning I was a weird, theatrical kid. This wasn't helped by my aunt and my uncle, who were likewise. I thought it would be hilarious to be buried in the coffin - as long as Uncle Bob dug me up right after - but of course, nothing like that ever happened. As long as the coffin was on the patio, it was funny.
Then my uncle decided to bring it into the house. It was set upon the stair landing with a mannequin of a bewigged woman propped up in it.
This was about the time when I started to be afraid. I really didn't like going up or down the stairs anymore, especially if it was dark at the top or bottom. Also about this time, though I didn't know this till much, much later, my aunt began having recurring dreams of a woman and a young boy beside the sea. They weren't frightening dreams, per se, but they stuck with her and bothered her. She called the woman "the witch". The trunk she'd bought with the coffin had a strange musty smell she never could get rid of, though whether the dreams were attached to it or to the coffin, she never knew.
My uncle thought all of this was funny.
The next year, my aunt and uncle moved to Virginia Beach, and my mom and I stayed in Oxford. My aunt wanted the coffin left behind or thrown away, because by now, she didn't want to be near it either. My uncle laughed and said no, and one of his friends who was helping with the move climbed into the coffin, goofing around, and there was much laughing and carrying on.
When they got to Virginia, there was a freak accident. The friend fell off the moving truck and was killed. Now, alcohol had been involved, but this spooked everyone.
My uncle still wouldn't get rid of the coffin, though. He propped it up outside of the house, facing the dark woods that backed into the Chesapeake Bay.
The house on Virgina had issues. Lights going on and off, cold pockets, and the like. My cousin Tiffany was born, and the phenomena picked up. My uncle began having nightmares about destroying the coffin in fire, or by chopping it to pieces. He didn't.
I stayed with them often. I didn't notice all of this happening, since I was little, and I don't remember ever being afraid in the house. I do, however, remember one night when we drove up into the driveway after dinner out.
The headlights hit the corner of the patio where the coffin was. Around it in a semi-circle were toads. There was one toad facing the driveway, and as the car pulled to a stop, it turned, and it and the other toads hopped away. I remember both my aunt and my uncle looking at each other, weird expressions on their faces.
Not very long after this, my uncle finally took the coffin to the landfill and left it there. The lights in the house never flickered again.
I won the Halloween costume party at work! I'll have pictures later tonight, when the trick-or-treating trickles off (although, despite our fog machine, cool sound effects, and awesome decorations... not too many kids have come by so far. *eyes the HUGE BUCKET O' CANDY and hopes for more kiddos*)
But for now, I give you one last spooky post. This is a true story, and it happened to me and my family. Some of you have heard it, but now all of you can read.
Once upon a time...
That's how stories start, even the scary ones. When I was very small, my mom and I moved to Oxford, N.C., a small town about 45 minutes north of the Raleigh-Durham area. We lived with my Aunt Mary and Uncle Bob, and I have mostly positive memories of this time. Mary stayed home with me, since I wasn't in school yet, and we had so much fun together. We played dress up and planned elaborate jokes to play on Bob and my mom, who carpooled to work together.
Mary was, and still is, an avid antiques collector. She and Bob would go off to auctions, estate sales, and flea markets all around. One night they went to an auction and came back with something quite unique. Mary had fallen in love with a very old steamer trunk. It was sold in a lot with a coffin.
I remember when they walked in, laughing about their find. I was four-and-a-half at the time, so this is a pretty vivid series of recollections. The coffin was made of very dark, splintery wood. It was narrow and it looked so, so old. There were bent back nails in the frame, and the adults figured it must have been a viewing coffin used by a funeral home. My mom was freaked out, as she has always been more superstitious and uptight about the supernatural than anyone in the family. Bob and Mary were all for bringing it inside at once, but Mom threw a hissy fit and they left it outside on the patio.
I was enthralled, since from the beginning I was a weird, theatrical kid. This wasn't helped by my aunt and my uncle, who were likewise. I thought it would be hilarious to be buried in the coffin - as long as Uncle Bob dug me up right after - but of course, nothing like that ever happened. As long as the coffin was on the patio, it was funny.
Then my uncle decided to bring it into the house. It was set upon the stair landing with a mannequin of a bewigged woman propped up in it.
This was about the time when I started to be afraid. I really didn't like going up or down the stairs anymore, especially if it was dark at the top or bottom. Also about this time, though I didn't know this till much, much later, my aunt began having recurring dreams of a woman and a young boy beside the sea. They weren't frightening dreams, per se, but they stuck with her and bothered her. She called the woman "the witch". The trunk she'd bought with the coffin had a strange musty smell she never could get rid of, though whether the dreams were attached to it or to the coffin, she never knew.
My uncle thought all of this was funny.
The next year, my aunt and uncle moved to Virginia Beach, and my mom and I stayed in Oxford. My aunt wanted the coffin left behind or thrown away, because by now, she didn't want to be near it either. My uncle laughed and said no, and one of his friends who was helping with the move climbed into the coffin, goofing around, and there was much laughing and carrying on.
When they got to Virginia, there was a freak accident. The friend fell off the moving truck and was killed. Now, alcohol had been involved, but this spooked everyone.
My uncle still wouldn't get rid of the coffin, though. He propped it up outside of the house, facing the dark woods that backed into the Chesapeake Bay.
The house on Virgina had issues. Lights going on and off, cold pockets, and the like. My cousin Tiffany was born, and the phenomena picked up. My uncle began having nightmares about destroying the coffin in fire, or by chopping it to pieces. He didn't.
I stayed with them often. I didn't notice all of this happening, since I was little, and I don't remember ever being afraid in the house. I do, however, remember one night when we drove up into the driveway after dinner out.
The headlights hit the corner of the patio where the coffin was. Around it in a semi-circle were toads. There was one toad facing the driveway, and as the car pulled to a stop, it turned, and it and the other toads hopped away. I remember both my aunt and my uncle looking at each other, weird expressions on their faces.
Not very long after this, my uncle finally took the coffin to the landfill and left it there. The lights in the house never flickered again.
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no subject
Date: 2007-11-01 01:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-01 01:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-01 02:25 am (UTC)That is an amazing story. I have chills. The toads were completely unexpected - and the fact that you picked up on how your aunt and uncle were looking at each other is very telling. All of those factors combined - the dreams, the lights, even the death - are so compelling. It makes you wonder what the story of the coffin was, doesn't it? Thank you so much for sharing this. I'm continually struck by how much we pick up, how sensitive we are to things when we're small, before we're programmed to laugh things off or not pay attention to what's around us.
True stories are always the scariest, aren't they? Thanks again!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-01 02:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-01 04:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-02 01:18 am (UTC)Thank you for the daily posts! It was fun to read them every day.