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This story isn’t fiction. Though sometimes I wish it was. But for the benefit of all of you who haven’t had supernatural and paranormal experiences we’ll pretend that my story never happened.
My story begins last summer. I was going to a movie, a drive in movie with some friends but we had gotten the schedule wrong so instead of being The Simpson’s Movie it was a horror flick that my friend Leah adamantly refused to see.
So we went back to Mike’s house, trying to scare Leah with all the scary stories we knew. And she actually screamed a few times so I think we did fairly well. But that died out far too soon and it wasn’t even nine o’clock.
“Hey what about that barn down the road?” Kevin asked. Peering out the window, the outline of the rickety old building was just visible in the dimming light.
There were no stories about it, in fact there wasn’t really anything to be known about it other than the fact it was threatening to fall down at any moment.
And of course Kevin got a brilliant idea, instead of scaring Leah why didn’t we just go down to the barn and see if it was really that creepy. She refused, of course but now the idea was there and I wasn’t about to lose to two boys so we snatched a flashlight and marched down the road.
It was darker now, but all of us were trying to pretend that the pits of our stomachs weren’t churning and we walked on now in stiff silence.
The barn was smaller than I expected, the wood had long ago lost its red finish and now it peeled back to reveal weathered browns and grays, and it didn’t look that creepy.
Then we reached the door and that was when I began to feel scared. Kevin flicked the flashlight on much sooner than needed and said “Ladies first.” I stuck my tongue out at him and then gingerly put my hand on the door. It didn’t creak like it usually does in movies but sort of huffed open a couple feet.
And then we were inside, the door didn’t slam shut behind us and there was no whispering or howls.
“Boo.” Hissed Mike and I managed to keep my mouth shut though my feet definitely left the floor.
And we walked, the barn smelled musty and like old hay as it became darker the farther inside and away from the safety of the door we went.
Then we were facing the back wall, just like that. No ghosts, no zombies, no howls just us and our breathing echoing faintly from the loft above.
I heard a squeak from Mike next to me and even in the darkness he didn’t look like he had just seen a ghost he looked about the same color as one.
All that he managed to get out was, “I saw a face.” And Kevin whipped the flashlight around, I didn’t dare look anywhere but I could see that the light was trembling as it hovered from place to place.
We turned around, I felt myself go stiff and there was nothing there. My shoulders slumped in relief. Mike could act really well, yeah that was all, just trying to scare us.
Faint moonlight still pooled from the door, a beacon of safety.
And we were almost there, Kevin flicked off the light and we all picked up or pace.
Then a snap like a whip cracking echoed above us followed by a thump.
I looked up, instinct and all I could see were a pair of feet, dangling above us. My eyes strained and I could make out a rope, dangling from a rafter. Kevin fumbled with the flashlight and jerked it up, the sudden flash blinding us, and there was nothing there.
I was hoarse for three days after that and the three of us beat all Olympic records with that adrenaline fueled run back to Mike’s house.
We had all seen the same thing, it wasn’t just me. Mike probably had seen a face, the ghost face of a man who hanged himself and now every time I hear a creak in my house at night I think back to what happened in that barn, on that paranormal night.