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Writing from the 1800s part 2

by Kerrie G.Diaz about a month ago in vintage
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Who locked us in this old schoolhouse? Will we ever escape?

Writing from the 1800s part 2
Photo by Meg Boulden on Unsplash

All the yelling in the world was not helping us escape. And dummy us left the crowbar out with the ladder. Who was to know that we would need it on the inside of the building.

Time went on and nothing but silence inside and outside of the building. We knew our parents would come looking for us in time. We just had to sit and wait it out. We had told them we were playing in the woods, so they knew were about to find us.

We noticed there was no light peeking through any of the cracks anymore. Even though not much light seeped through the old building, could see a little bit of light and were able to notice when the sun had set.

Suddenly, we heard the bell from out in front of the schoolhouse start to ring. Which surprised me because the bell looked like it couldn’t ring anymore. It kept ringing for a few minutes, then we started hearing noises in the schoolhouse.

Where were they coming from? What were we even hearing? After we sat quietly looking at one another trying to figure out the noises we were hearing. It sounded like kids coming inside the school. Being confused we couldn’t believe what we were hearing.

I said “ Whoever locked us in here must put speakers inside and make it sound like this. This is not real guys.” Thought to myself, this can’t be real.

After a few minutes, it sounded like the kids all sat at their desks and it got quiet. Not a sound from inside the building. Just heard some wind outside moving some dried leaves around.

By Jeffrey Hamilton on Unsplash

We then heard some noise up toward the teacher’s desk. We look and all of a sudden the chalk started moving in thin air. The chalk rested on the chalkboard and began to write. I think my jaw dropped to the floor. My cousins were also amazed at what we were seeing. I gasped and look at my cousin and said, “I don’t know how you would explain that one, no speakers behind that, maybe a wire?” I said it kind of loud, I was just freaking out.

As I said that the chalk stopped in mid-air and it looked like whoever was holding the chalk seemed to look out at the desks as if the writer heard me. Were we in class, a class that could not see us, nor could we see it, but hear us? What was going on?

It was now evident how the old writing was able to stay on the chalkboard so long. At least this is what I’m seeing. Not sure I am believing what I am seeing though. How could we only hear each other in different years but be unable to see one another?

We heard a noise and what looked like flashlights trying to shine inside the schoolhouse. Was it the person who locked us inside here? Were we finally going to be free of this madness?

We heard our parents call our names and we call back to them all in tears. We thought we wouldn’t make it out of here and I am sure our parents thought they wouldn’t see us again.

They took the crowbar we left out by the ladder and popped out the window so we were all able to get out of the schoolhouse. My uncle hammered the window back shut and told us to never go inside there again.

We never told our parents what we had seen and heard that night in fear they would not believe us anyway. No one ever figured out who locked us in the schoolhouse either.

We never went back there and just left that mystery alone. Never wanted to find out any more about that schoolhouse.

vintage

About the author

Kerrie G.Diaz

The goal of my writing is to put a smile, help, or scare them. I love all kinds of topics Horror and paranormal are my favorite but really into true crime. If you like what you read please tip me with a coffee https://ko-fi.com/kerrie

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