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Tuesday, January 15, 2008

The Ghost of Abigail Jones

Welcome to my blog. Pull up a chair and let me tell you a story. Or rather, a dream. I have the most detailed and bizarre dreams. To some, they seem terrifying. But not to me. I enjoy my dreams and I really enjoyed this one when I dreamt it and when I wrote it all down. Someday, I will make a book out of this so I'm sorry folks but no one is allowed to copy it and make a book or do anything with it except for me. Until that happens, enjoy the dreams of a writer's twisted mind.

Dream Sept 24, 2007

The dream started with me walking thru a huge building. I believe it was an abandoned college and I was walking thru a hallway sticking my head in the doors of the empty classrooms. Walls were grey and the doors were wooden, light reddish color. It’s not quite nighttime yet, the sun hasn’t set so it is still light enough in the college that flashlights aren’t needed. A group of people is ahead of me about 40 feet away and they are taking pictures and talking. A voice behind me asks, “So, what’s the history with this place?” I turn and it’s Cheryl from work, her desk is right next to mine. I stand beside her as she looks inside a classroom.


I say “This place was abandoned 50 years ago because the students kept dropping out or transferring and they couldn’t get new students to come here. What little new students they got, left pretty quickly.”


“Why?” Cheryl asks.


I pull out photos from my bag that is hanging diagonally across my shoulder. “This is why.” I show Cheryl the photos and point out the oddities. “Do you see this shape right here? What does it look like to you?”


Cheryl replies “A woman. Must have been a developing error.”


“Can’t be that. These were taken from a digital camera.” I pause and pull out a picture of a painting. It’s a woman from the 18th century. “This is Abigail Jones. She died in sometime in the 1780’s, we can’t find the exact year. Story has it that Abigail’s husband built a house right where this college is now. Abigail and her husband were the perfect couple at first but then she caught her husband cheating on her so she sought revenge. She wanted the revenge to be painful in every way she could think of so she contacted a local voodoo queen and asked for a curse. The exact wording of the curse was lost over time but the story says that the voodoo queen worded the curse in such a way that if the husband really wasn’t cheating on her, then Abigail would be the one cursed and not the husband. Abigail would have to pay for being wrong. We’re not sure of what happened next but it is said that a scream was heard coming from the house. A neighbor saw the husband running from the house, never to be seen again. The neighbor went inside to check on Abigail and was found the next day with a look of terror upon his dead face. No one knows what happened to Abigail but she was never seen again either. At least, not in the flesh.”


I smirked at Cheryl who looked at me and said “Oh nice, Katie. Great story but what really happened?”


I laughed and said “Actually, that is the story that was handed down thru the neighbors family for generations. I heard the story myself from the last family member, a little old woman of 90. She has her own theories of what happened but wouldn’t share them with me.” I went thru the stack of pictures and as I was looking, a hand brushed on my arm. I look around me and didn’t see anybody around but I didn’t say anything so that I didn’t frighten Cheryl. I go back to the photos and find the ones I want. I pull them out and show Cheryl. “Now look at these pictures. I took these myself. What do you see?”


Cheryl looked at the pictures carefully and then went thru them again. Finally she speaks up. “This first one, I see a face, there on the railing. This one here, I see a profile of a woman, no details just shadow. And this one here…”


Cheryl pauses to pull out one photo to the top as a woman walks by us. She didn’t make a sound, no sound of footsteps, no swish of clothes, nothing. The woman is wearing faded blue jeans and a black short sleeve top and her hair is dark, dark black and falls to her upper back between the shoulder blades.


Cheryl continues, “This one, I think it’s a problem with the picture itself. Maybe an old picture was left on the memory card and made its way onto this picture? It looks like a woman to me.” Cheryl pauses again to get a closer look, I spot the woman with black hair stopped in the door way of a classroom 10 feet away. Cheryl goes on, “It’s a woman with black hair, and if it’s a ghost, it can’t be Abigail because the clothes are all wrong. This woman is wearing blue jeans and a black shirt, and look at the hair style. Women of that era did not wear their hair like this.” Cheryl stops because she noticed I’m not looking at the picture anymore. I’m watching that lady in the door way who has her back to us. Cheryl doesn’t notice the resemblance to the woman in the photo so I mouth the word “Look” and point to the picture and then to the woman. Cheryl looks several times from the woman to the picture and back again. Cheryl says “But that’s impossible. It’s just a coincidence. She’s not a ghost, she’s solid.”


The woman in the doorway slowly turns towards us and walks to us in a way that radiates evil to me. She stops about 1 foot away from me says in a low voice “Mind if I look?” Cheryl turns the picture around and shows the woman who then chuckles in a low voice. “Of course you got me from my bad side. Maybe this will help clear your doubts.” Suddenly the woman’s face turns evil like this picture and she screams at us, a horrible roar like scream.


Cheryl and I both scream and run down the hallway past the group of people and down to the first floor but we get lost and can’t find the front door. We ran right into another woman. I don’t know this woman, she has blonde hair down to her ears and the hair is kind of on the curly poofy side. The woman says “Stop! You’re going the wrong way. I’ll show you the exit. She can’t get you once you are outside.”

I ask this new lady “Who are you and how do you know she can’t get us outside?”

We follow the woman and she responds. “My name isn’t important but I know who you are running from. I know her very well for I have been trying to stop her for countless eons. She is trapped in this building. She can’t step foot outside. And before you ask, yes, that once was Abigail but it’s not anymore. The physical features are Abigail but that entity is far older and far more evil than Abigail ever was. Tell me, did she touch you?”

I respond, “I felt someone touch my arm but I couldn’t see who did it.”

The lady responds, “yes, it was her. You must get out of here now before it’s too late! Did she speak to you? Did you see her?”

I tell her what happened upstairs and what made us run in terror. The lady continues, “So, she has chosen you then. It’s imperative that you leave. Now!”

“Chosen me? For what?” The lady doesn’t respond, so I grab her arm and repeat “What has she chosen me for?!”

“I’ll tell you once we are outside. Now come!”

Cheryl, the new lady and I are running now, down another hallway and its getting darker outside so light is dwindling inside. I spot the evil entity standing in a doorway like she was upstairs. I point a shaky hand at her and the new lady, whispers to us, “Don’t stop! Go! Hurry!” We manage to get by the entity but just as we pass her, she steps out of the door way and is now behind us. I continue running but with my head turned to watch this entity. The entity runs up to me and just as she reaches me, her face turns from this picture to something far worse. And that is when I woke up. I could feel the terror of seeing that face, hearing that roar like scream and running down a hallway and being chased thru an abandoned college that is growing darker and darker. No wonder I didn’t go back to sleep after that.


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Well written article.