When the Log Rolls Over..

“It was a dark, and stormy night...”

“That’s a lame way to start a story!” I was immediately interrupted. Sean sat at his usual spot at the camp fire wearing a pout.

“It’s the way the story starts!” I tell him in a harsh tone.

“Yeah, let her tell the story!” Another kid pipes up from beside me, eyeing me with wonder. “Keep going!” He urges me, and I chuckle, before continuing.

“As I was saying...” I trailed off, waiting to be interrupted. When I wasn’t, I continued from where I left off.

It was a Friday night. Four young boys had decided to go camping by themselves, in the woods behind their house. The threat of a heavy rainfall loomed overhead, but they were too excited to care. They had already packed their bags, and after their respective dinners had decided to venture into the woods to find the best spot to make camp.

The further they walked, the darker it seemed to become. It seemed in no time at all their houses had vanished, and all that lay before them was the large forest, with trees as far as the eye could see.

“I think it’s time to stop” Michael, the youngest of the pack announced. He would never admit it to his friends, but he was beginning to grow concerned. He liked to at least be within eyeshot of his house, but it seemed like that ship had since long sailed.

“Why? Are you scared?” Sean mocked, rolling his eyes. Michael shifted his gaze to the floor of the forest, which seemed to give Sean his answer. “Fine. Let’s set up camp”

“Did anyone bring a flashlight? It’s darker than I thought” Dylan wondered aloud as he searched his back pack. He came across several items they may need; news paper to help start a fire, matches, a small knife, bug repellant, an emergency blanket, but no flashlight.

“Just use your phone” Sean snorted, digging into his bag to grab the tent poles. None of the boys were Boy Scouts, nor were they particularly outdoorsy. Their parents would have never agreed to their adventure, which was why each boy had lied, naming one of their friends’ place’s as their location for the evening. They had never given a reason for their parents to mistrust them, so no questions were asked.

“Huh. No service” Dylan muttered, grabbing some of the poles from Sean. Jake and Michael grabbed their phones to provide light; how did all four of them manage to forget a flashlight?

“Ou, spooky” Sean chuckled, fiddling with the poles. “Okay, seriously” he then muttered, growing easily frustrated.

“Here” Jake rolled his eyes, handing Sean his phone. “Let me do it” he couldn’t stand watching his friend struggle with such a simple task.

As they built the tent as quickly as they could, the darkness began to envelop them. The wind began to howl, making strange noises in the distance, the trees swaying, occasionally a branch breaking, startling one of the young boys. It was clear the weather tonight was not going to cooperate with them; and it soon became clear this tent was not going to be put up.

“Oh for gods sake” Sean almost shouted.

“Language!” Dylan snapped back, it becoming an automatic habit to correct bad language. In his house, his parents would never let him say something so vile.

“Oh, grow up. We're old enough to use those words” Sean huffed. They were all 8, after all. “This is getting ridiculous. It looks like it’s going to rain any moment”

“We could totally put up a tent!” The story was interrupted again, this time by Dylan.

“Yeah, this story isn’t realistic” Sean informed me, and I tried not to laugh.

“I mean, it’s not really supposed to be- that’s why it’s a ghost story” I tell him, and he is visibly upset by my answer.

“Well, it’s not scary” Sean tells me, and I smirk.

“Not scary yet. You have to let me finish” my tone is harsh with them. Anytime I tried to tell a story this is what happened; why did I bother anymore?

“Keep going!” Michael interjects, the only sound now is the cracklings of the bonfire.

“Great. Here comes the rain” Sean sighed. The wind picked up, and the rain began to fall heavily on the group of boys. “Pack it up- we’re going back” he tells his friends, and there’s nobody who disagrees. Scrambling to get all of the pieces put away, they finally manage, though they’re soaked to the bone.

By now they’re in total darkness, the only source of light is the dim flashlight from their phones. Nobody can see where they’re going as the drudge through the sticks and mud.

“Look! Up there!” Dylan is the first to notice. They weren’t sure where they ended up, but they managed to find their way to a small house in the woods.

“Why is there a house in the middle of the woods?” Dylan questions.

“Somebody probably lives there” Michael reasons, looking at Dylan like he’s said something completely insane. The wind whistles, the fire dying for a brief moment. A whisper can be heard in the wind, but the boys are too busy arguing, they don’t pay attention.

“Who the heck lives in a house in the woods?” Jake asks, and I remain silent. This time the whisper is louder, and I know they can hear it. Without responding to their questions this time, I simply keep going.

“Let’s get in there!” Michael charges past Dylan to get into the warmth once more. They’re surprised to find the door ajar, it opening more fully when they lightly knocked, to see if anyone was home. By the looks of it, nobody had been home in quite some time.

“This place seems spooky” Dylan frowned, peeling off his soaking wet jacket. There’s a coat hanger to the left of him, so all the boys take a moment to get rid of their cold, wet jackets.

“...........”

“Did you hear that?!” Dylan asks, hearing a muffled voice.

“I think you’re just hearing things” Jake tries to assure him, but if he was being honest, it scared him too. He could hear the faint voice as well, and it appeared to be coming from up stairs.

“It’s coming from up there” Sean points to a rather creepy pair of staircase. Judging by the dust of this house, nobody had set foot in here in years; decades, even. But the dust is the only strange thing about it. The curtains are closed, but they look almost new. The furniture in the living room to the left of the entry way was covered in a thick, white sheet, protecting it from any damage. Though it looked abandoned, there was a homey feel almost; until the voice was hear once more.

“..... log.....”

“We have to check it out” Dylan announces, and all three of the other boys shake their heads.

“You go ahead, I’m fine staying alive down here” Sean exaggerates, trying to scare Dylan a little more. He sees a fire place and is immediately more interested in finding warmth than the sound of a strange voice that may or may not exist.

“Don’t be such a drama king” Jake rolled his eyes. “Let’s go” he gestures to Dylan, who nods a little skeptically, before they began to trudge up the staircase.

Michael and Sean head right for the fire place, promising warmth for Dylan and Jake should they make it back alive.

“When the.... we’re all...”

“Did you hear that?” Dylan asks in a frantic whisper. The voice is becoming more distinctive, now. Jake nods his head, though he’s almost scared stiff. They take the stairs, one step at a time, each time the creak on the steps becomes louder, with each step the voice becoming easier to understand.

“When the log rolls over...”

The sentence is coming together; they had to be getting close. They both could feel the goosebumps on their skin; the hair standing up on the back of their necks. The voice was becoming more than a harsh whisper, and as soon as they reached the top of the staircase, they could hear it better than ever.

“When the log rolls over, we’re all gonna die...”

“Oh, god” Jake shuts his eyes, stopping in place. There’s only two rooms on the second story of the house, and both of them currently had the doors shut. “Let’s leave. We have to leave” he says, but he can’t find it in himself to move.

“We have to keep going” Dylan urges him, though he too is finding it hard to move from the spot his feet have rooted to. “Which room first?” He asks, but before Jake can even respond, they hear the voice again, it clearly coming from the room to their left.

“When the log rolls over, we’re all gonna die...”

“I don’t want to die” Jake whimpers, and Dylan grabs his hand, in a small attempt to comfort his friend.

“We’re not going to die” Dylan asserts, trying to convince both himself and Jake they would be fine. Taking one last breath, he opens the door, revealing a bedroom.

There’s only one bed, a perfectly made double bed, with fluffy pink pillows, and the ugliest pink throw you could imagine. This appeared to bring the boys some comfort, until the voice came louder.

“When the log rolls over, we’re all gonna die...”

“It has to be coming from over there” Dylan points to the door that’s ajar across the room. The pair looked at each other before slowly shuffling towards the next room, their hearts pounding rapidly in their chests. The closer the got, the louder the voice became, until they finally opened the door to what looked to be a bathroom, where they could hear the voice perfectly.

“When the log rolls over, we’re all gonna die...”

“There’s- there’s nobody here!” Dylan shrieks frantically, looking all over the small room where nothing but a small tub, a white sink, and a green toilet sat. The was a certain aroma in the room neither of the boys could quite place. Was this what death smelt like?

“The voice is definitely coming from here!” Jake is certain, when the voice booms one last time.

“WHEN THE LOG ROLLS OVER, WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!” The voice shouted, sending jolts of fear through the two boys. Dylan, being the bravest one of them all, slowly approaches the toilet, when he sees it.

“Oh, my god...” he trails off, his eyes wide. He’s not sure what to make of what he sees. Does he laugh? Does he cry?

“What!? What is it!?” Jake asks, slowly approaching his clearly shocked friend.

Sitting in front of them, in the toilet on a piece of poop are two mice. The voice was clearly from them, as they shouted one last time...

“WHEN THE LOG ROLLS OVER, WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE...!!”

I finish the story, and all eyes are on me. The boys are all silent, before they all burst into a fit of giggles.

"That's the silliest story I've ever heard" Jake laughs, shaking his head.

"It wasn't supposed to be silly!" I smirk, though of course that was my intention. It was a story my dad had told me when I was younger; and I felt it was my duty to pass it on.

Author's Notes

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