AH! You Scared Me!

Ghosts. Are you scared of ghosts? Are you afraid of anything? As you know, my anxiety causes me to be afraid of just about everything, except food. (Unless it’s still moving.) Heck, I even scare myself, sometimes!

Back in the summer of 2007, I wanted to be a ghost hunter so bad. I was barely a teen, so I was ready for anything! It just so happened that my great aunt’s house was supposedly haunted by a little girl. From what I gathered, she fell down the well in their back yard around a hundred years ago. (Sounds like that movie, The Ring, doesn’t it?) The well was since covered up and not to be uncovered. My aunt mentioned that the owner of the house (she was renting it) had dug up an old, kid’s shoe while they were digging around. The first couple of years they lived there, my aunt would hang stockings up for her grandchildren for Christmas. She said that Emily (the little ghost girl) would get angry and start throwing objects all over the house. She would spin the pans that were left on the stove, break ashtrays, even throw toys. Aunt Rita finally decided to hang up a stocking for Emily. Apparently, that was the problem, as Emily had stopped tearing the house up when she had her own stocking.

Anyway, that summer, my mom (I wasn’t old enough to drive) had brought one of my friends and I to Aunt Rita’s house. We turned most of the lights off and got our mediocre equipment out. My step-dad was our hired camera man. I took pictures and my friend held the voice recorder. We were “professionals”.

If you look closely at my featured image, you can see one of the pictures I took around the living room. What do you see? I see a person waving their hand. It gives me the chills to look at this picture and write about it. I caught a couple of pictures that appeared foggy for no reason and another with what looks like lightning. Her house was in the middle of nowhere, so I know it wasn’t a light.

Streak of light in the top right. (The bottom is my thumb.)

I wasn’t scared, then. I didn’t even see anything on the pictures until we got home and examined them. These were from my digital camera.

If you want to know about my ghost hunting career, I stopped right after I went to Vicksburg and stayed in one of the carriage houses at the Cedar Grove Antebellum Estate (beautiful place). I had an awful feeling about the room we were in, so I quit my ghost hunting. You know, professionally. Never wanted to experience that again.

So, fear. We can be scared of just about anything. I am deathly afraid of spiders, as anyone should be, but my biggest fear would have to be dolls. Pediophobia, I believe it’s called. If you leave me in a room alone with a doll, I am sweating and crying and busting windows to get out. I can talk to a ghost all day long, but let a doll come near me and you will never see a fat girl run faster.

I remember when my grandmother decorated my room in porcelain dolls when I was a little girl. I hated them. I’d often have dreams they would turn their heads and watch me. Even some stuffed animals scare me.

Amazingly, though, clowns are one of the few things I’m not afraid of. No matter how creepy and bloody they try to be, I just can’t be scared of them.

If you watch YouTube as much as I do, you’ll see people scared of every day objects. I have seen someone cry in fear as a tray of pickles were brought in.


Really, it doesn’t matter what we’re afraid of. Fear is fear. A person who is afraid of pickles might find it crazy that I am scared of dolls, and vice versa.

Heights are scary, too.

Also, deep sea creatures.

What is your biggest fear?

Love you!

-Courtney (Spooookyyy!)

P.S: If you’re afraid of bugs, do not Google alligator ticks. (Seriously, don’t. They scare me.)

P.P.S: It is not Halloween, I am aware of this.


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