A Modern Haunting

Many haunted places are located throughout Alabama. Of such places, you’d never think a modern, luxury home would foot this mold. This brings us to the Rocky Hill Mansion.

The Rocky Hill Mansion is located between the North Alabama towns of Town Creek and Courtland. It’s situated in the middle of 640 scenic acres. The property was built in the year 1958 by, an attorney named James Sounders. This beautiful home is still one of the most magnificent pieces of architecture in Alabama. Upon arriving through the front gates, the walls are tall, thick, and crafted from French onyx. Large carved stones span the property as decadent accents to a magnificent landscape. Plants were obviously plotted with the future in mind. Greenery is free to climb up the house. It’s as if the vines planned every curve to maximize rest and relaxation. There are many species of tall trees aligning the estate. Particularly; it’s a lonesome oak that ushers visitors and residents through to the front doorway as it sways in the wind and refuses to be ignored.

“Honey, I love this place. I can’t believe this. Who would give this property away? Why?”

“You know what— Babe? It doesn’t even matter. It’s ours. And as far as I’m concerned, this is better than hitting the lottery.” he responds with glee.

The moon is shining bright amidst a cloudless sky. Cranes occasionally flutter by overhead. Their silhouettes would pass over the grass far before you heard their squelching. The Jacobs have never witnessed such a lavish home.

“This is exactly why we had to pounce on this offer, babe’. Look at all this farmland! The realty is practically giving this away.” Mark announces firmly.

The Jacobs have no idea that following James Sounders’ death in 1996, Rocky Hill Mansion has changed ownership many times. It eventually went to auction with its occurrences and reputation keeping it undesired. Mark Jacobs is the head of household. He shares four children with Jenna. Mr. Jacobs works as an accountant and has been known to sleep with a calculator in his pocket. His commitment to his family is unmatched.

Jenna Jacobs is the wife and proud mother of the four crumb-crunchers. The oldest is a freshman in grade school and the youngest being a newborn who has been diagnosed with sickle-cell disease. Jenna is the finest lady in the world. She gets up very early in the morning, smiling and encouraging the kids to ‘ALWAYS DO THE RIGHT THING’. Jenna works as a receptionist in a private firm.

As Jenna enters the kitchen, moonlight is shining through the windows casting a reflection on the opposite wall. As they enter the main dining room, a huge table is crafted from a single megalith of marble and surrounded by sixteen chairs. The table is dressed. The plates and silverware are made of real silver. Everything lays untouched and unused like a forgotten date. Above the table hangs a beautiful chandelier twinkling of crystal.

“This is amazing. I thought the listing was a joke. Mark… baby, I can’t believe this. The furniture is fit for a royal court.”

“…and the King has arrived. Everything here must be worth more than the estate. This marble dining set has to have a listed value of $500,000.oo— alone.”

The style of staircase is hand-crafted unlike anything other luxury homes have showcased in modern history. All three hallways are lined with paintings that seem to encase important events in North-American History. Any appraiser would place an estimated value of these to be in the millions.

“Well! We better get settled in. Take the girls with you. I’ll take the boys to do some scouting of our own. Got’ your walkie-talkie, honey?”

“I sure do. This is so exciting.” she replies, kissing Mark and whipping off with the girls.

Mark and the boys stumble across a built-in BROWNING PP65T safe.

“Boys, I imagine this beauty is empty, but we’ll never know. SAFES like this are super secure.”

Evening approaches and it’s time to place (baby) London in her nursery. It’s a small room that’s situated just off the main master bedroom. It’s perfect for keeping accountability on a snoring baby. The linen in the rocker is so immaculate; it will assume duty for baby London later tonight.

Meanwhile, the fireplace in the ball room is another fine example of the architect’s creativity throughout Rocky Hill Mansion.

“This is gorgeous. It’s absolutely, stunning.” Jenna declares, standing at the large mantel.

...And beautifully crafted it is. But this jewel of a center piece is not without its own blemish. There’s something perched on its edge.

“Oh! What’s this?”

Jenny notices a little, black book that clings to the edge of the brick-work. It’s a scrubby little thing. It’s the dust on it that gives Jenna the clue that it doesn’t belong to Brittany. It’s the dust that causes it reek of unimportance.

“Looks like an old journal. I would open this, but the contents of anyone’s’ journal is not my business. The right thing to do is to discard this dusty thing. Yeah!” she reassures herself. “That’s the right thing to do. …Discard it appropriately. Someone else’s personal thoughts are no interest to my family.”

Jenna takes the little black book to the kitchen trash and tosses it inside. She figures she’d never witnessed anyone scouring through a kitchen trash for any reason. For this reason, it seems to be the best stage for never seeing that little book again.

This isn’t the only phenomenon that’s been recorded in this residence. According to several reports, the ghost of a woman wearing blue has been seen several times lingering around the nursery. There are photos of a woman’s face documented as appearing in photographs of the nursery.

It’s day #2 at the Rocky Hill Mansion.

“Good morning, babe’.”

“Good morning to you, Jenny’. You’re up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep in. London woke me a while ago and I’ve been too excited to go back to sleep. There’s so much to see. How’d you sleep, Marc?”

“Life is good.” he replies with a sense of satisfaction.

He continues.

“I hear the boys running around. We have a yard as big as Texas and they’re running ‘inside’ the house? That’s priceless.”

“Don’t be a party pooper. They must be as excited as we are. I’ll get breakfast ready. When I’m done, I have an idea for transforming that BALL ROOM into something you’re going to like.”

After breakfast was served, Jenna carries baby London to where Mark is located.

“Babe’, you ready? Can I show you something? I have an idea for repurposing that BALL ROOM.” she explains.

“…Sure thing. Here I come.” he answers.

As they enter the space, Jenna begins to narrate.

“So, these tables can be donated. …These chairs too. I’m thinking ‘man cave’ with a theatre.”

As they approach the brick masonry of the fire place, Jenna continues.

“You’ve always wanted your own…”

Jenny pauses and gasps. A chill accompanies goose bumps.

“What’s wrong honey?” Mark insists, watching the color leave Jenny.

“That little black book.” she manages to whisper.

“What about it? The dusty thing looks like it’s been here a while. Toss it in the trash. What’s the big deal?” he asks in total control.

“That’s just it. I tossed this away yesterday. I took it off this very spot and tossed it in the trash. This is… awkward.”

“Let me see it.”

Mark flips through the first few pages.

“It says something about how the lad grew up too fast and how much she misses him. This is a woman’s diary. I have no clue and don’t care. It’s barely readable and hardly interesting. Toss it in the trash— again. If it comes back, we have an issue. Matter of fact, I’ll get rid of the darn thing.” he inserts to relieve Jenny from the burden.

Jenny is a bit disturbed, but she shrugs it off and continues explaining the rest of her plans for future projects.

Later in the evening, Jenny has fed the family and placed baby London in her nursery where Marc is napping nearby. From the quiet moonlit halls, Jenny hears something coming from the nursery.

“LET THIS. LET THIS.”

It sounds like a woman’s’ voice. …A whisper: “LET THIS”. What could this mean? Jenna is startled, yet brave enough not to awake Mark. This reminds her of the incident with the mysterious little black book and decides to head into the BALL ROOM. Upon her investigation, she was unprepared for what she was about to witness. She races back to Mark who is sleeping and frantically wakes him.

“Honey, wake up! Wake up. I saw her. I saw a lady wearing blue. …in the ball room.”

“Calm down, sweetie. You saw what?”

“I saw a ghost placing that little black book on the fireplace. It was a ghost!” she explains, panicked.

“Wait. I took that book to the dumpster in town. It better not be in this house.”

Upon investigation, there it sits. It’s resting on the edge of the fireplace.

“Now we see why nobody has shown any interest in this property. Babe’ we can’t live here. You don’t know it, but I’ve been hearing a woman’s’ whisper from London’s nursery. I refuse to be haunted. We’re packing tomorrow.”

Mark stands starring at the mysterious little black book. He’s perplexed. This home is otherwise perfect. Owning this property has raised the family’s net worth by millions and he refuses to give it up so easily. He has another idea. He takes the little book to the master bedroom, takes a seat and opens it.

“Mark, what are you doing?”

“What does it look I’m doing? I’m reading the darn` thing. I’m not going out without a fight. In no way am I going to let 30-somethin’ pages of scribble scare me away from thee’ most beautiful situation I’ve ever been able to provide for my family. Are you in, or are you out?”

Jenny wouldn’t think to read someone’s diary—especially without their permission. She believes this to be bad karma, but Jenny has a choice to make.

She gazes back in the direction of London. She’s sleeping in comfort. With confidence in their line-of-sight to baby London, the weary wife complies.

“Wait! It’s a woman’s writing and a woman’s whispers. Maybe a woman should be read it.” Jenny calculates, sensibly.

It’s an honest effort at avoiding upsetting the compiler of the mysterious book. Mark agrees. After 31 small pages of reading about a French woman named Paris who desired to have children of her own, it’s the last page that makes the most sense.

[“I was contracted by James Sounders to Nanny his young ones. I have derailed crossing completely over for good reason. I’ve been trying to get past residences to read what I’ve inscribed on this last page. Your sweet baby is in danger. The immaculate lining of the nursery’s linen is fluffed with Chrysotile Asbestos.”] the text explains.

Note: Asbestos is safe and legal to remain in homes or public buildings as long as the asbestos materials are in good condition and the asbestos cannot be released into the air. If agitated and inhaled, both types of asbestos have been linked to the cause of cancers.

“Wow!” Jenny expresses in disbelief.

“Honey… Wait a minute! The whispers from the nursery… She wasn’t haunting me with ‘LET THIS’. Ms. Paris has been trying to warn me about the ‘ASBESTOS’.”

They keep reading.

[“Since I’ve been unable to warn past residences, I’ve forced myself to scare them away. It’s been for the benefit of their young infants. Now that you are aware, you have my blessings to stay undisturbed. Try 21-32-43-54.”]

“It must be the code to the PP65T SAFE.” he assumes correctly.

“What SAFE?” Jenny inquires.

They reach the SAFE door where 21-32-43-54 accesses an heirloom of unmarked gold.—10,000 ounces of it. Jenny’s mouth swings wide open.

Not all ghosts are Mephistophelian.