Visit with a Ghost

It was on a dare, my friends told me about the ghost that haunted the ashes of a cabin that burned down nearly half a century ago. The legend says that as the sun sets, the ghost will appear wandering the site. So I alone and full of myself at the time decided to go. Armed with a flashlight and hand-camera I charged headfirst into the woods. Not to say I wasn't terrified, of course I was. After the trees swallowed me from sight of civilization, the sun started to droop closer to the horizon. As I followed the dirt path that had been carved out by other curious daredevils, I noticed that signs had been put up warning against trespassing. They won't stop me.

Near a half-hour later I arrived at the charred remains of what used to be a sturdy home. The first thing I noticed was the doorway, a stone archway that now stands alone, guardian of it's turf. The chimney looked as though it had fallen over decades ago, moss blanketing most of it. As I began to move closer, I realized that I hadn't turned on my camera. I wanted proof that I was here and that I wasn't afraid either. Step by step I documented what I saw, but in the back of my head the thought that I was going to be pranked by my so-called friends wearing sheets over their heads taunted me to look around at the edge of the forest while I explored. Just in case.

I had taken my first step through the archway, getting a cold chill as I passed it. The air is getting cold. The burnt remnants of pictures and memorabilia littered the dirt floor, most of the images had disintegrated under the deathly gaze of nature and time. It looks burnt, the dirt of the cabin, like it was in a fire recently. Kind of spooky. Panning the camera slightly to the right, I fixated on the remnants of glass where a window had once been framed. Then I moved toward a three-legged table, but as I approached, I noticed a wicker nest underneath. I assumed it was wicker but on further inspection, there was no mistaking its authenticity. I Backed away in case the occupants were dangerously territorial, I turned to the other side of the house. A segment of wall that seemed to have been saved from the fire bore a small wooden cross, it was hand-carved.

The sun was a tiny crescent on the edge of the Earth. This was when they said the ghost is supposed to appear. My hair stood on edge with anticipation, just waiting for something to make me jump. I stepped out of the building to search the grounds for the ghost, or any sign of it. The lack of light made it hard to see even through the trees so I turned on the light on the camera. The light was surprisingly bright for a hand-held camera. I looked at the screen and it began to fritz, then shut off without warning...oh I hope the footage didn't get erased. I decided to give up and go home. That's when I saw him...

It was an old man, in his early sixties I think, as he turned to face me the right side of his face was mutilated. Burned. I noticed his blackened chest, as it was breathless and dead. He was so still that I began to feel how shaken I was. Without any movement or warning, he began motionlessly floating towards me at inhuman speeds. I was so horrified by this that I blacked out. When I awoke, I found myself lying on my bed in my house. The camera was missing. I searched anywhere and everywhere for it. I worked up the courage to search the cabin, and there, lying in the center of the cabin was the camera. When I picked it up, it was as if it had been burned in a fire. Recently.