Now for my experiences at The Myrtles Plantation, America’s most haunted house.
2:00 PM–We checked into The William Winters Room and after, literally, dropping off our bags, we left our room to walk around the grounds. About twenty minutes later we came back and as we opened the door to our room, Mom and I were overwhelmed with the smell of gardenias. The smell had not been there before and I didn’t say anything initially because I didn’t want to be overzealous.
Mom mentioned, “Can you smell that?”
Mom didn’t know it, but I had just read some online accounts and one person experienced a strong smell of gardenias in her room, too. I recognized the gardenia scent because I had used gardenia sachets in my dresser for years. Sara Winters, one of the many owners of the house, spruced up the rooms for her guests by spraying perfume. It is interesting to note that the apparition my mom described in my last post was the figure of William Winters, Sara’s husband, and the man our room was named after. After being shot, William died in Sara’s arms on the seventeenth step.
Additionally, legend has it that a young girl died in our room. She was very sick and was on her deathbed already when the parents employed the help of a voodoo priestess who put a gris-gris bag in the floorboards under this rug. When we lifted the rug there was a floorboard that had been replaced with an ill-fitting board. The girl died anyway and the black woman was blamed for her death and hung from the chandelier. There were certain places in the house where I felt extreme dizzy spells, specifically outside of our room. Dizziness affects those who are sensitive to certain changes in energy associated with haunted areas.
3:00 PM–Decide to get some rest before darkness. The room had its own thermostat and the vent blows directly on our bed, so we are very warm. However, we keep feeling cold drafts (drafty, old house perhaps?) and I feel a pair of icy “hands” cover mine on top of the covers.
Intermission: Not much happening while we were out on the porch until midnight, but we are having a blast hanging out and sipping liquid courage with a family of four from Texas.
2:30 AM–I am lying awake in bed, but near sleep. Mom lays beside me dozing. Suddenly the end of the bed starts rhythmically shaking from side to side. After thirty seconds of the rocking motion, I decide to wake Mom. I squeeze her hand, but she is out of it. Finally, I shake her and say aloud, “They’re shaking the end of the bed!” And the shaking stops as quickly as it started.
3:00 AM–Piano plays in another portion of the house. Only one couple has access to that part of the home and they did not touch the piano.
5:00 AM–A child-like presence crawls into bed with us. If you have kids, you know what it feels like to have a toddler climb onto the end of your bed, then slowly crawl up between you and your spouse, and snuggle in between.
7:30 AM–The ghosties rhythmically rock the end of our bed again. The movement is not a jolting shake as seen on the movie, The Exorcist. Instead, it feels like someone is rocking our bed as if to say, “Good morning sweethearts. Time to wake up.” I get out of bed and try to recreate the rocking motion, but the bed is much to heavy and well-built for me to shake it from side to side.
After describing my experiences, some have said, “I would be freaked out if something started shaking the bed or crawled into bed with me! Weren’t you scared?!” Actually, it was comforting. I have experienced living in a haunted house and some of my experiences at my home were terrifying, but the ghosts at The Myrtles seem to like having visitors. They provide reassuring touches or show you a glimpse of their world. These experiences humble me and reaffirm my faith in an afterlife. The paranormal reminds me there is so much we do not understand about our world…or the next.
Originally posted on www.camillefaye.com.
*Originally posted on The Literary Ladies Blog