In the deep woods, there sits a cabin, hand crafted out of love

"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window."

There is a legend that in the hills of Kentucky, there sits a house. Abandoned in the trees, away from any civilization.

Old tall pines and dogwood trees surround the house. The poison oak crawls up the unfinished porch.

The front door sits open as looters and robbers have heard the rumors that gold is buried in the hills. The stories of someone still living on the house's second floor have not been proved wrong.

The last time I visited the cabin, the room that was once the main bedroom was divided into two rooms. One room contains an old bed and dresser, and the other a lookout.

A window to stop the trespassers. It is rumored that the man who died on the land didn't die, or his ghost remains trapped inside the house he was building for his family.

He was rumored to have been murdered behind the house in the early 90s, the land sold to his enemy. It is rumored that he was caught by neighbors saying the only way you will ever get my property is over my dead body.

Before dirt was piled on his grave, his enemy held the deed to the house.

The rumor of gold and money buried in the hills was too much greed for the house's new owner.

The first thing he wanted to do was dig up the property. This is where his investment falls flat.

The state of Kentucky rules does not allow digging in any potential graveyards. On the land, there are multiple graves, the man who was murdered buried his dead children on the land.

Knowing that if he died, he wanted proof that the land was a burial ground. It would prevent the new owner from ever disturbing the possible graves.

That is what he did to secure that whoever bought the land would never be able to discover the treasure that may or may not be there. However, the man knew he would come for his land.

Who lives in the house now? Is it a ghost of the man who was murdered or hunters using the bedroom for deer season? Since the house is in the middle of nowhere, kids always want to prove this theory.

One summer, I decided to take a trip back to the old house. Is it possible that someone still lives there?

I was visiting family across the border in Tennessee, and I convinced her to come with me; we won't camp there all night; we would see if we could spot anybody or know if it looked like trespassers.

We were not trespassing, as we have permission to enter the property whenever we like. We walk the 1/4 mile down to the house and see that the door is still open.

The botany books were still on the shelves, and the old wood stove that once filled the kitchen with love and the smell of pancakes sat empty.

Chairs and couches were turned upside down, and wood was strewn about the place. The most commonly used backdoor sat half-open; the old porch had been removed.

We then walked up the stairs that were hand crafted by the old house owner, still steep. Still menacing. I imagined children running down them and piling out the backdoor when they were late for school.

Yelling bye as they ran to the bus stop. You can almost hear the faint echoes of laughter stopping when you reach the top of the stairs to realize the rumors are correct.

There is a bed and a light. Even in the daylight, the light was on. Why; did we scare someone? Yet it had no evidence that a vagrant lived there.

Photos of the family who once lived there were all over the walls. The room appeared cozy, and the old cat blanket sat on the bed. I sat down on the bed; it seemed to be clean.

Yet the way to the house would have given no signs that anyone lived there. Does a ghost need a blanket and photo memories or a light?

It was rumored the man would kill at the sight of anyone entering the property. The man who permitted us to go down to the land said he never goes there.

He never mentioned the failed attempts at digging for gold. All I know is that someone or something scared him off, and his family was not welcome even on his land.

We walk to the second part of the walled-off bedroom to see a window removed and a chair with a blanket. This must of been the lookout spot for trespassers.

Was anyone ever killed by the watcher of the house, or was it just a scare tactic?

We started walking to the back of the house and the woods. We turned to look for any signs that someone was living in the house.

I turned around and saw a man with a white shirt looking at me; he was too far away to tell if I was seeing something or if it was my mind playing tricks on me.

I yelled to my cousin we had to go; someone was there. We ran out of the house and up the driveway to the car. We locked ourselves in the car, and my cousin asked what I saw.

I said I don't know, but I was not staying to find out.

I looked at her and said the house was just as I remembered it growing up.