My sister and I had a walk-in closet growing up. It was a great space my dad built over the garage and attached to our bedroom.
It held many an awesome thing, but what really made it special was that it had no windows. If you turned the lights out in there, it was pitch black. Which was fantastic. You see, the sister and I would bring groups of friends in there, sit in a circle with a flashlight, turn off the lights and tell ghost stories.
Unlike the sister, I was never much for the great outdoors. The bugs were the main turn off, but there was also a high creepy factor to being out in the middle of nowhere in the dark. So, no camping for me, but I still really liked ghost stories. Which made the closet perfect. All the necessary darkness from the safety of home.
Sometimes we’d make up stories. Tales of horror and woe that had us shaking in our Rainbow Bright stirrup pants. On other occasions I would read stories from the books that I had picked up in different places. Whenever we went to a historic site with the family, I always tried to get a book of ghost stories from the location.
My interest in ghosts did not wane over the years. In fact, when I was considering colleges, one of the things I put on Gettysburg’s “pro list” was that it seemed to have an abundance of ghost stories.
Now, I've yet to encounter a ghost, but see no reason to give up hope. One day when I finally own the haunted house I have always dreamed of, I’m fairly confident in my ability to make some spooky friends. And then once I’m ghost myself, I’m really hoping that the job my dreams have been training me to do pans out.
In the meantime, though, my sister has been kind enough to give me a spectacular gift: a vintage Polaroid camera. Seeing as nobody has used it in awhile, it wasn’t very surprising to us that some of the doohickeys (technical term) need to be cleaned. But the thing is, we couldn’t really figure that out until we’d taken a couple pictures. And once we put a packet of film in, we didn’t want to ruin it by opening the camera up to clean things. All of this has led to something wondrous. Faux ghost photos. Both creepy and awesome. Enjoy.
After a tragic accident involving a banana peel, a kerosene
lamp and a lot of hay, a young bride and her father now
haunt the barn where she was to be wed, posing for
wedding pictures that never took place.
The Siren of the Sea. She haunts a small coastal village,
luring many young men to watery graves. Not because
a young man had anything to do with her own passing.
Just because she thinks it's fun.
Known as the Murderous Maniac, this ghost reveals
himself every 14.5 years on either his birthday or
his half-birthday. Legend has it, he's fairly friendly.
Just really loves yelling "Surprise!" and "Happy Bday!"
Nothing murderous or maniacal about him. Apparently,
the person naming ghosts that day was prone to hyberbolic
statements and an avid fan of alliteration.
And now, for the most terrifying ghoul of all...
The towel bunny. Nobody knows his story. But everyone
knows to stay the hell out of his way.