Hello everyone. it’s been suggested that, to add a bit more spice to this blog, I should add a section on my own personal experiences with the ghostly world. I think this might be a good idea, both to generate a few more hits as well as give people examples of what to do and what not to do.
My encounter at Emily’s Bridge was the first time I’d tried investigating a well known “haunted location” and also my first time coming into contact with a celebrity ghost. Emily’s Bridge is located in Vermont, and it is the place to go for a thrill, or if your friends dare you to. The legend goes that Emily was a young bride-to-be who was tricked into eloping by her paramour, and left abandoned at a covered bridge in the woods. Despairing, Emily hanged herself over the bridge, and haunts the area to this day, seeking violent revenge on her would-be lover, or anyone that kind of looked like him. People had reported long scratches left in their cars (locked, heated, well lit vehicles being the perfect ghost hunting conveyance for many) and strange noises and screams from the bridge when they flashed headlights, threw rocks, and generally tried to provoke the ghost.

Coming to the bridge, it didn’t much look the part. The high sun (hunting ghosts at noon is kind of my thing) and the pleasant warm summer breeze didn’t exactly lend a spooky atmosphere to the rotting little bridge, and I sat down at one of the benches that lined the interior of the bridge and examined the scratches left along the inside. There were always four, leaving long gouges in the wood, and I wondered if they could have been made by someone with a pocketknife instead of a ghostly demon-woman.

I settled back in my seat, let out a long breath, and began to concentrate on my vision. At that time, it took me upwards of ten minutes to fully shift to my clairvoyant senses, and even then the connection was tenuous, and any sharp movement would snap me back out. I’ve improved since then, but it was infuriating at the time.

Once I finally managed to get focused on the blurred form about fifteen feet away from me, I gasped and nearly lost focus. Carefully calming myself, I examined the extraordinary spirit. Emily was facing away from me, staring out over the water, wearing a simple dark dress. Her hair was done up in a pair of country-girl braids, and she looked younger than me (I was fifteen at the time). I could see a rope wrapped around the back of her neck, which was stretched and twisted at a harsh angle, evidently from the hanging. I’d never seen a ghost before that brought props into the afterlife.

For a while, I pondered what to do. The ghost had not, evidently, noticed my voyeurism yet, and to truly test if the myths rang true about Emily’s Bridge I would need some way to provoke the ghost. Slowly, carefully as to not break myself out of the correct Sight, I picked up a large stone, and tossed it through Emily’s head into the river. She turned, slowly.

Emily’s face was a nightmare. it was sunken and rotten, her tongue jutted out, fat and distended, and her eyes opened wide and blank, with neither pupil nor iris. I stood, still keeping an eye on the ghost.

its hands unfolded from beside the dress, and for the first time I saw how disturbingly wrong they were. Each of her fingers were easily a foot long in full, with knobbly joints and wicked nails. Her mouth opened wide around her bloated tongue in a silent scream, and she came at me directly.

Her form lost focus as she began to move too rapidly for my vision to keep up, and she disappeared entirely. As I backed up a step, terrified, I felt the wind whistle like someone had whipped a thin stick very fast, the sound of cutting air, and my cheek felt wet.

I turned and ran, hearing that sound once more at my back as I went, running until I could not see the bridge and all the way out of the wood.

Later on, I looked in the mirror. Thin gashes had opened up in my cheek, fine and exact but not deep enough for serious damage. The same had happened to my left shoulder as I’d ran. My shirt was slit as cleanly as if it had been done with sharpened scissors. That encounter was the first and so far, only time I have been attacked physically by a spirit manifesting, and I would advise all who wish to go to Emily’s Bridge to go with caution.

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