Imagine waking up. You open your eyes, and it’s dark . . . so dark, no light filters in. You reach over to turn on the night light next to your bed, only to find your movements restricted. You figure you’re just a bit tied up in the sheets, but further checking finds no sheets on you. You reach up and find the space above you stopped by something both soft and hard. Hmmm . . . soft, like silk, and above that hard, like wood.
Okay, you say to yourself, this must be a dream — a nightmare, in fact. No way could you be trapped in something resembling a coffin. But fear starts creeping in. You struggle to move, and the struggling intensifies your fear; the more you try to move, the less movements you can make. Suddenly, you are finding it hard to breath. Panic sets in as you try to rip the casket apart, but the more you attack the coffin, the deeper the realization that you are buried, and all your struggles are for not.
But you continue, because inside every living thing is ingrained that most ancient of instincts: self-preservation. You feel your fingernails tear as you rip, punch and scream, all to no avail. In that moment just before you feel your essence slipping away, you find yourself slipping into total peace. There’s that light everybody talked about. Your moving towards it, as it gets brighter and brighter. You see the faces of your parents, long dead, reaching out for you. You smile and extend your hand to join them, when a voice in the background says, “‘Mornin’ mom. How ya want cher eggs?”
The picture is of the Stull Cemetery, and the old stone church that was mysteriously torn down on Friday, March 29, 2002. The owner of the property said he did not authorize its destruction, and no one has owned up to the deed. Stull Cemetery, located near the abandoned Town of Stull, has been said to be one of the Seven Gates of Hell. Rumors abound of how the devil appears there on the last night of winter, or the first night of spring, to honor a witch buried there. Another rumor has it Pope John Paul II ordered his plane not to be flown in the area, so he wouldn’t have to fly over unholy ground. An old oak tree was felled years ago, as it was said to be the tree witches were hung from. Further info: Stull
Do you think we can train them to keep the blog going, interesting, fresh while we enjoy our weekends? Should make for some interesting reading anyway! My fear would be they could make things more interesting than we do.
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