Friday, August 20, 2010

Exploring a haunted house...

So there was this house near my uncle's farm. A haunted house!  The driveway is full of weeds, grass and small trees.  We always drive by it on the way to uncle's house and I guess I never noticed it before.  I looked on Google satellite maps and sure enough there is a house at the end of the driveway.

I asked my cousin about it and was told there once lived two retards.  One was insane (we knew him only as 'bucket', because he shit in a bucket), the other was the less retarded of the two, named Ric.  I actually remember the latter.  He used to mow people's lawns for a living and drive around town on his riding mower.  Around 2006, he had a heart attack.  He and his brother were sent to a nursing home where he died a month later.  Bucket is believed to still be alive.

Middle of nowhere.  Creepy!
A brief history of the house - It was built in the late 1800's and housed a couple of black servants, who worked the farm and one of whom was the nanny of my uncle's older relatives.  They lived and died in that house (rumor has it they haunt the place till this very day!).  In the fifties, a married couple and their two retard sons lived there until around the 1980's.  My uncle says some hippies moved in and they installed electricity and left before the water could be installed.  Sometime in the 90's, the two retards just kind of wandered back and started living there again.

It's an interesting-looking house.  Three stories.  Basement and den at the bottom of a hill (the entrance is pictured above), living room and kitchen can be entered through a door at the top of the hill, and an attic on top.  The three floors are connected with a really narrow stairwell.  I've been told it's structurally unsound, but I think it's safe, anyways.  The base is made of bricks somewhere between the size of regular red brick and cinder blocks.  The outside had a decent, stucco finish which looked almost new at first glance.  If I could have everything stripped and refinished, replace floorboards, replace drywall, get running water, electricity, new bathroom, etc., I would definitely live in it.
Flashlight or gun, BUT NOT BOTH!
The first day I mentioned it, me, my cousin and his friend went exploring that night.  We parked in front of the driveway, machete and flashlight in hand, and trekked through the jungle.  The gravel driveway completely disappeared within 30 meters.  We made it about halfway through the 120 meter brush-ridden driveway when we saw a few small thorn trees right in the middle of the path and decided to turn back.  As we started to turn, we heard a creepy sound, pointed our lights to the trees and saw a pair of yellow eyes staring back!  It turned out to be some sort of raccoon/giant rat-thing, but nevertheless it freaked us out, so we started fast-walking back to the car.

Strike-a-pose, retard-style.
  The next day, I told my other cousin about the place and we decided it would be a good idea to go in the daylight.  He showed me a shortcut through the back of my uncle's cornfield.  We brought a 12 gauge and a .22 rifle (you know, for the witch that lives there).  It was high noon but most of the windows were covered with pieces of carpet.  It was too dark to see past the doorway.  It was kind of creepy around that house, even in the broad daylight.  Cousin jokingly suggested that someone was watching us through the top floor.    We shot some cans and some broken lawn equipment and headed back.

The next night, after a trip to Walmart and the dollar store, and full of McDonalds, we decided it was time.  We were prepared - flashlights, machete, fireworks, and .22 rifle (you know, for raccoons/giant rat-thingies, or witches).  I kind of felt like MaCaulay Culkin in Home Alone 2.  Or maybe Fred Savage in Little Monsters.  We phoned a friend with the promise of hidden retard treasure.  The four of us went through the back path through the cornfield and through the woods.  When we got to the house, it really wasn't that creepy with four people.  I kept thinking that when I turned around they would have dashed off back to the house leaving me alone in the woods as some sort of practical joke, so I made sure I kept them within sight.

Shot of the basement chimney thing.
Middle floor. Notice the narrow stairwell in the back.










 We entered through the basement.  It was a storage room.  The pipe that was started in the 80's was never finished.  There was a pile of gravel at the end of the storage room where a water-heater could have been were the pipes ever finished.  A few bricks and a tossed mattress against the wall.  Past the small storage room was a den, with a rudimentary fireplace.  The fireplace extended all the way to the top floor and would have warmed the entire house.  The house really seemed like it could be a cozy place to live if it were cleaned up and fixed.  Suitcases, batteries, crumpled up papers and cheap pieces of broken electronic equipment were on the floor.  That table actually looks decent.  Otherwise nothing salvageable down here.  I imagine Bucket lived down here but spent his days in kitchen area.

The staircase was narrow as hell and steeper than most.  A 250 pound fat man would have to sidle his way through.  At 300 pounds, he may have to suck in his gut, but I doubt he would fit at all.  It was pretty claustrophobic looking.  I wish I took a closer picture of it.

THE LEGENDARY BUCKET.
I don't even wanna know what that stuff on the wall is.










The main floor consisted of kitchen and a bathroom in the back with a large closet.  The bathroom was a mess.  Toilet full of shit.  Tub full of shit.  Sink full of shit.  The kitchen was a couple of countertops with a sink (which was missing), a four person dining table and with enough room left over for a two seat couch and a television.  I don't remember if there was room for a stove and a fridge, but you could get by with just a microwave and a mini fridge.  The floor was scattered full of old VHS tapes, broken records, broken cassette tapes, candy wrappers, and miscellaneous garbage.  Drawers were pulled from their holes and their contents dumped.  Mold ran up from the floor to the walls.  Shit covered the floor.  The Bucket had been spilled.  Oh God, The Bucket!  It was nauseating to say the least.

FUCK, I forgot to blur their faces.
On the table were empty notebooks and photo albums with no pictures.  Honestly, we thought we'd find notebooks with incoherent ramblings, or maybe notes with revelations that the retard thing was all a hoax to cover up secret science experiments.  There were some old credit card bills.  The latest was from 2006 for $1900, dated to the month Ric had a heartattack.  It seems he had enough income to pay off at least 60 dollars a month.  The cabinets have been searched through.  There were boxes of Jello, cans of coffee, and canned vegetables.  It seems that sometime between 2006 and now (2010), someone rummaged through the house, and the last time anyone from my uncle's family went there was in 2006.  We imagined some hobos or drug addicts went here during the winter to hibernate.  How did they end up all the way in the country?  The surrounding cities are full of rich white people and the nearest slums are at least 75 miles away.
Future rape victims.
Another ten years and it would have been paid off!

I found a broken picture frame packed with photos of women dated between 1986 and 1998.  I realized his must be their jerk-off material and quickly threw it against the wall.  I removed the pictures and snapped some photos of them.
This was at the top of the stairs.
Chimney, top floor.
The attic consisted of two small rooms.  You can see the chimney in the photos so you sort of have a sense of direction.  Vines had grown through the top floor window.  There was a small christmas tree, a flipped-over cot, and a bunch of broken Christmas decorations on the floor.  There wasn't much shit covering the walls here, and seemed less trashy than the other rooms.  This must have been Ric's living quarters.

That was it for the adventure.  On the way back my cousin kept a distance behind us and threw some firecrackers to startle everyone.  I had found some pocket-sized notepads with writing scribbled in it and some cassette tapes but they must have fallen out of my pocket when I was scrambling to get the hell out of the house, as I didn't want to be the last.  The one cassette tape I had didn't really have anything weird on it, just some Gospel music.

Well, that's all there is.  My uncle says they're gonna let the fire department burn it down for practice, which is a shame, because I think the house has a pretty sturdy frame.  Hey that rhymed!  Anyways, there was no retard treasure and we didn't find anything cool.  THE END.

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