A Night At PineHurst

Below is the entry Jim and I wrote and submitted to Children's Writer today:

“Good evening.  My name is Miranda Witsworth.  I am coming to you from PineHurst Mental Institution.  Originally called Pennsylvania’s State Institution for the Feeble-Minded and Epileptic, PineHurst went under scrutiny in the 1970s and finally closed its doors in 1987.  Since closing, people have spoke of hauntingly strange happenings on the campus.  My friends and I will be spending the night within its walls, and filming our findings.  Our hope is to put to rest, once and for all, the urban legends surrounding this place...”

“Friend,” I sighed under my breath.  Just her friend.  Miranda, the most beautiful girl at school, and me her equipment carrying friend.  Thankfully, Pete tagged along to make the situation less awkward.

“So what did you boys think?” Miranda asked sweetly.  “Do I sound like a real reporter?”

“You bet!” Pete exclaimed.  Miranda had that effect on everyone.

“Max? Max? Max!  What did you think?” Miranda called out to me.

I desperately wanted to answer, but I was frozen in fear.  My body was covered in prickling goosebumps and I couldn’t even utter a pathetic squeak.  The ominous graffiti on the cracked and crumbling walls was everywhere.  But the one phrase completely paralysing my mind and body was, “G.O.D. isn’t here.”

“Max, what is it?” Pete shook me.

“That,” I said pointing to the etched graffiti.  

“Why are there periods after each letter in God?” Miranda questioned.  

“Always the detective,” I thought.

All of a sudden there was an eerie almost disembodied laugh coming from down the corridor.  “Guys, did you hear that?”  My voice had barely returned.

“Did you hear a ghost Max?” Pete teased.  “Did it say ‘‘booooo!’?”

“Max, we’ve only been here less than a half...” Miranda was abruptly cut off.  There was the sound again; the sound of a little girl laughing.  I was grateful that Pete and Miranda both heard the voice this time too.

“Is there someone here with us?” Miranda exclaimed.  But the only answer was ghostly laughter.  “Well I guess we need to investigate boys,” Miranda asserted.  “Roll the camera Pete!”  “Oh brother,” I thought.

We began walking down hallway after hallway following the laughter only pausing briefly to catch our breaths or avoid an old discarded item in our path.  We would have continued had we not been abruptly stopped by a door with the words “G.O.D. isn’t here” etched below the epithet “Stairs To Tunnels”.

“Are you sure you guys want to continue?” I said with trepidation.

“Well, it’s the only way we’ll ever find out who or what is making that noise.  And I for one need to get to the bottom of this for our viewers.” Miranda said while looking professionally poised for the camera.  “Come on!”

We quickly descended the stairs and waited for the laughter to dictate our direction.  But we couldn’t hear it anymore.  Miranda called out, “Little girl where are you?”

Then everything went black.

I woke up in darkness, the back of my head throbbing in dull pain.  As I began to become more aware of my surroundings, I realized there was a constant sound of soft sobbing to my left.  My tongue felt dry and heavy as I said the first name that popped into my head.

“Miranda”, my voice sounded odd and alien to me.

The sobbing stopped and there was silence for what seems like an eternity; then a voice answered, “Is that you Max?”

“Yes”, was all I could manage as an answer.  I was vaguely aware of my voice being louder now, and that it was echoing oddly around me.

“Keep your voice down” Miranda replied, “if they hear you they will come back!”  I still couldn’t see her, but I thought I heard panic in her voice.  I was trying to remember what had happened and how we had gotten here.  I was drawing a blank.

“Was it ghosts?” I asked weakly.  There was a pause before Miranda answered and I became aware of a clicking noise echoing from what seemed to be far off.  Miranda’s voice started to shake when she answered.  I could tell she was on the verge of crying again.

“I don’t know where they came from,” she sobbed.  “We had descended the stairs and I called out to the little girl hoping to hear another giggle.  Then all of the sudden they were all around us.  I suppose they must have been hiding in the rooms.  They knocked you and Pete out and then turned to me”.  Miranda began to sob.  “Pete... he’s down here too... I’m not even sure if he’s breathing”.

I tried to process all of this.  It seemed like a bad dream.  So I did what anyone in this mess would do - I closed my eyes and pinched myself to wake up.  I slowly opened my eyes, but lost all hope when my surroundings hadn’t changed.

It was at this moment I realized the clicking sound was getting closer and it wasn’t just one click, but many clicks.  I tried crawling closer to Miranda, but my limbs were rubber.  My eyes began to adjust to the darkness and I realized it was lighter above us.  I could only see a dim outline of Miranda as she slowly crawled over to me.  I put my arm around her, and the two of us sat huddled together in desperation.

Above us, shadowy figures were lining the edge of our prison.  I could see the walls faintly now, and I could make out a large, spray-painted 10’ symbol.  “This must have been a diving pool at one point,” I thought.  The clicking sound had faded now and the pool was completely surrounded by people.  I couldn’t see any of their faces, but their clothes were filthy and in tatters.  Some held canes or rested on crutches.  “The clicking,” I thought.  Suddenly the darkness was broken by a blinding light; someone was shining a flashlight into our faces.  

A voice, slow and slurred, began to speak. “Why have you come to Home?”

Miranda spoke before I did, her voice a flurry of fear, “Please we are really sorry we didn’t know anyone was here and we didn’t mean to trespass if you let us go we swear we will never come back and never talk about it if you just let us go please”.  There was barely a breath in there and the stream of words broke down into sobs.  She ended with, “I just want to go home”.

My eyes were adjusting to the light now and I could see the faces of our captors.  They looked haggard, and in many cases deformed.  There were eyes that were too far apart, noses bent to one side, and mouths hanging slack.  The only thing I could think to say was, “Who are you?”

The one holding the flashlight answered back in his slurred voice, “We are the people who live here.  This is Home.  We were always here.  Once there were other people, the ones who hurt us.  They called themselves Guard, Orderly and Doctor.  Then they told us that Home was being shut down.  They left and told us we had to leave too, but we had nowhere to go, so we came back.  We will not leave Home.”

“We didn’t know you were here,” I yelled.  “If you let us go, we won’t tell anyone you are here.”  Through the pain and exhaustion, I tried to sound as assertive and angry as I could.  “If you don’t let us go, someone will come looking for us and they will kick you out of here!”

There was a chuckle this time before the voice began to speak.  “The men in the car with Blue and Red lights were already here.  They didn’t find you.  They don’t like to come down here.  They will find your car and cameras down by the river.  They will stop looking for you.

Miranda’s sobbing grew louder and my heart sank. My only response was, “Why? What do you want with us?”

There was a soft fluttery sound that ended in a dull thud as a packet of cloth landed next to me.  One landed by Miranda, and another by Pete.  I picked up the one closest to me.  It was a guard uniform.  Miranda held up a pair of scrubs.  I could barely make out what seemed to be a lab coat next to poor Pete.

“You will put these on,” the voice said.  “Tonight is the anniversary of when the Guards, Orderlies and Doctors left Home.  These people hurt us, so on Anniversary, we remember them and the the hurt they would do if they came back.”

Miranda was hunched over holding her costume sobbing, not even looking up or responding anymore.  I looked at the people above and realized they were all holding large rocks in their hands.  That was the moment I realized there are things much scarier than ghosts.