**This is a true story. I entered it in Jezebel.com’s scary story contest today and am sharing it here for you, my darling readers. If you have your own scary story to share, leave it in the comments below. Look out for more scary stories this week as we enter Amanda Hanna’s ‘Talk Scary To Me’ October series.**
When I was little, we used to vacation a lot with my mother’s brother and his family. His girls and I were about the same age, my eldest cousin ‘Jane’ being 2 years older than me. One holiday weekend, the grown-ups rented a house near the beach in St. Ann called Christopher’s. It was a beautiful two-story house with a pool off the verandah and rocky steps that led down to the sea.
Jane was about 4 or 5, which would’ve made me about 2 or 3. Truth be told, I don’t remember being in the house, but I’ve heard the stories enough through the years from all the adults involved, to know that they are true.
According to my aunt (Jane’s mom), my whole family was out on the verandah the morning after we arrived, eating breakfast. Jane said she wanted to get something upstairs from her room. My aunt says that minutes later we all heard a blood curdling scream.
She immediately raced up the stairs to find Jane crying hysterically on the ground. She checked her for bruises but she seemed physically fine. It took a while but when Jane finally calmed down, she told her mother that she saw the head of a little boy with blood coming out of it.
“Where?” my aunt asked. Jane just kept staring in front of her at the empty room. She wanted to move but she couldn’t. My aunt had to lift her out and close the door. Jane never really calmed down after that. For the rest of the weekend, she was uneasy. She appeared traumatized and weepy. She wouldn’t go back into the room. She wouldn’t really eat or play with us kids. Her behavior was plain spooky.
Aside from Jane, the rest of the weekend passed in the usual fashion. Lots of swimming and eating and relaxing. The adults felt a little uneasy, but it wasn’t bad enough that they left the house. When Monday came, my mom drove to the rental office to ‘check out’ and return the key.
She wasn’t planning to say anything about the little boy, but she couldn’t get Jane’s scream out of her mind. At the last minute she worked up the courage to ask: “by the way, this is odd but….has anyone died in that house?”
The rental agent went white as a sheet. “Yes, it’s a very sad story and it happened a really long time ago. There used to be a groundskeeper who lived on property with his young son, about 4 or 5 years old. One night he went mad. He picked up a cutlass and cut the little boys head off.”
Amanda Hanna is a 4x Best-Selling Amazon Novelist and Professional Ghostwriter. She’s been blogging since the early aughts and now she’s back in the saddle. Watch out world! She’s blogging for you. www.creative-copy.com
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La Dolce Vita 