Our Friend Jim

Visitor Article

Submitted By: Anonymous
Submitted On: September 29, 2005

A few years ago a couple of friends and I were all sitting around a ouija board...and my friend Tonya and I had it across our laps and it started to move. She asked who was with us in the room and it slowly spelled out "Jim." I laughed and told her to stop playing around. She said she thought I was messing with her. She picked up the board and said "this is boring let's go do something else."

We decided to drive down to an old local cemetery to see if we could catch anything on film. We pulled up to the gates but they were chained. The lock was rusted shut. We would have to climb over the fence to gain entrance. We knew if we got caught we would be in a lot of trouble, so two of my friends decided to stay behind and be lookouts.

My friend Ryan and I climbed over the fence and decided to just snap a few shots and leave quietly. That's what we had planned, but, unfortunately for us, that's not what happened. After we got in we walked all the way into the back of the cemetery where most of the gravestones were pretty old. Some weren't even legible. Ryan spoke softly as we walked asking the spirits that roamed the grounds for permission to be photographed. He explained we weren't there to cause harm, we just wanted to take their picture. After i took a few shots, we walked over to the far left of the cemetery - guided only by the light from Ryan's cell phone.

We were almost to the last headstone in the back row when his phone beeped. It was dying. Ryan looked at it and he said "no way! I just charged this thing before we left." We started to walk back to the front gate when I tripped over a small fallen branch from a tree and skinned my knee on the gravel path. So, I'm sitting there holding my knee trying not to cry out in pain. Ryan reaches down to help me up and I hear someone running towards us. I thought maybe it was one of my other friends coming to see if I was okay. I looked up at the path ahead and didn't see anyone.

I asked Ryan if he heard anything. He said he had heard the footsteps, but didn't see anyone. Then, just as I stood up, I saw a shadowy figure run right behind Ryan. It was just barely lit by the moonlight creeping down through the tree branches. If it hadn't been for that I probably wouldn't have seen it. Ryan spun around and said, "WHAT WAS THAT!?" I grabbed his arm tight and whispered, "I don't know... it went back into the trees."

I don't know why, as scared as we both were, we decided to brave it out and walk back to where it disappeared. Clinging tight to Ryan's arm, we blindly walked back into the thickest part of the trees. There it was again! Then it just disappeared. We walked slowly over to the spot where it vanished and there was a headstone. Ryan remembered he had a Zippo lighter in his pocket and took it out. He lit it and what we saw next gave me the chills - and still does today when i think about it. There barely etched into the stone, worn away by many many years of weather, was the name "Jim," born 1712, died 1729. By that time, we didn't care who heard us. We came running out of that place as if our lives depended on it. Creeped out and out of breath, we ran... and ran... stumbling over small holes and running over unmarked graves.

Ryan and I struggled to climb over the fence where our friends were waiting on the hood of the car. We both yelled at the same time..."GO!!!!!!" They jumped off the car in shock not knowing what had happened. Tonya started the car and we tore out of that place and never looked back. The whole ride home neither of us said a word. Since that night, until now, I've never spoken about it and neither has Ryan.