Ghost Stories

Field House

I live in ruralVirginia, and my high school, believe it or not, was in betweentwo pastures in a very agrarian area. Although I was never muchinto sports, I had a few friends who were, and several were onthe cross-country running team.

The course laid outfor the cross country track took a meandering path around theschool, then out into the pastures around the school (with thepermission of the farmers, of course). One part of the coursetook the runners past an immense old farmhouse, abandoned anddilapidated on the crest of a hill overlooking the school. Therewere, of course, rumors that it was haunted, but to my knowledgeno one ever saw or heard anything there. It was just a big, old,spooky, abandoned house.

At times, the CCrunners did see someone poking around there, but it was obviouslythe owner of the property as they would see his truck parked infront of the place, and they could see that he was using thedownstairs rooms to store equipment and surplus hay.

That being said, Ishall relate the story of my friend on the CC run, and thesubsequent discovery made by myself and some intrepid companionsone day...

Her name was Candy,and she was on the CC team. She was hardly the star member, andwould, unfortunately, often find herself running alone. Thatnever dampened her spirits, however, and she remained on the teamdoing her part. One day, when as usual the pack had left her farbehind, she found herself alone as she trudged up the hilltowards the old house. Glancing up, she saw someone walk past anupstairs window. She thought nothing of it, of course, assumingit was the farmer. It didnt dawn on her until later that histruck was not in its usual place in front of the house.

She told this toher circle of friends, and some of us decided to check the placeout the following day (which was, fortunately, a Saturday). So,we met in the field at noon and tromped off to explore. What wefound there was the typical old falling-apart famhouse. Emptyrooms (except for the equipment and such), creaky floor boards,and piles of wet shattered plaster, beer bottles, graffiti, andcigarette butts. Then we rounded the corner from the old livingroom to go upstairs, and each of us stopped dead in our tracks....

There were nostairs. Apparently, the stairwell had collapsed into the cellarlong ago, leaving only a yawning opening 10 feet above a tangledpile of old timbers on the cellar floor below. And yet, Candy hadsworn she had seen someone walk by an upstairs window. Weexplored the house more completely, now being VERY careful sincewe knew just how bad off the place really was. We didnt find anysecond staircase, and there was no way to reach the second floor.Its a mystery that has remained unsolved, as in the middle of ourexploration we heard the truck door slam outside, and we all beata hasty retreat out the back so we wouldnt get caughttresspassing.

I dont know if itwas a ghost she saw, or if it were someone who could climb likean orangutan, but its all a moot point now. That house wasdemolished only one year later, and a nice shiny new modern splitlevel was erected in its place. I wonder if the owners of thathouse have any late night visitors....?