This one left me a bit rattled. I’ve started and stopped, deleted and walked away from this one more times than I can count. To sum it up, yes, it’s haunted. For those of you who are skeptics, I don’t blame you. I typically find cemeteries quite calming and peaceful, myself. This one I probably won’t be going back to anytime soon unless I’m well equipped with smudge sticks, a crucifix and quite possibly a priest. I’m not kidding. There is some crazy sh*t going on there.
When you first pull in, the cold storage is straight ahead. The rusted double door vault stares you down as you pull through the stone entrance. Complete with chimney to release the gases of those waiting for the ground to thaw, the back of the vault is just as ominous with groundhog holes riddling the ground, aiding those who aren’t quite ready to go.
Moving on, the cemetery seems to be quite peaceful. Beautiful mausoleums, monuments, and small gardens planted by those mourning the loss of their loved ones dot the forty acres of graves. Even the older graves that typically fall away from years of being forgotten were in good standing, scrubbed at some point in the not so distant past.
We rounded the corner and began walking a path that absolutely had heaven on the other end. The Androscoggin River flowed along the edge of it creating breath taking views while the graves kept going up up up into the sky, creating what resembled steps and levels. I quickly decided I wanted to be buried here.
We went to the far back of the cemetery on the first ‘level’ but didn’t stay long. I got very tired and bored with it all. A thorough feeling of ‘to hell with it-why are we even here’ depression shot thru me very briefly before trailing behind to the next path, leading up to the next level. Once we reached the path, the birds, groundhogs, squirrels and chippys all came back with a tweeting, scurrying vengeance. I was back in my Disney movie and life was beautiful again.
We followed the path, turned the corner and walked in the opposite direction on the next “level,” eventually coming to a crossroads. To the right, the path led thru beautiful statues, plots and small private memorials I couldn’t wait to see. So I went straight instead. Don’t ask me to explain it because I don’t have an answer. Even as I was walking down the path I wanted to turn around and explore the other one, but I could not make myself stop. Full speed ahead.
A large stark white mausoleum came into view and as I was thinking to myself how impressive it was and how badly I wanted a picture of this, I walked straight on by. Instead of stopping to take a photo, I was suddenly in a hurry and held my camera up and took a picture as if I had never held a camera in my life. I snapped the shot as I continued to walk.
Then I saw it. Tucked behind the mausoleum was another, hidden down this narrow dirt path, secluded within the trees. I stopped and waited for my husband to catch up.
We walked towards it with the intention of walking around it to the front where the names were listed. I got to the edge and held onto the corner, suddenly feeling like I had been punched square in the chest. I knew someone was standing on the other side of the mausoleum but on the other hand I also knew there wasn’t anyone there. I tried to play it down in my “oh I don’t want to disturb the chipmunk, this way looks better” lying jibberish that came flying out of my mouth and made myself walk to the other side. (There was no chipmunk, by the way). I had to put all of my energy into walking past the back corner only to be hit with a heavy wall of “don’t do it.”
I stopped short near the front corner. Someone was definitely around this corner. You know how it feels when someone walks into a room and you know it before you even turn around? That’s what this was like, and they were absolutely right around the corner from where I was standing. I thought about how ridiculous I was being and after quite a bit of swearing and “stop it’s” to myself, I stepped out around the corner of the mausoleum.
Don’t get me wrong, it was a thing of beauty but I could not wait to get out of there. I walked back as far as I could from it to take a picture of the front. The stack of branches and twigs combined with the litter ground into the dirt made it clear this was your typical teenage hang out spot. (Something that will always irritate the heck out of me. It’s not that they’re hanging out there, it’s the disrespect they leave behind.)
The abundance of wildlife was gone. No random bird chirping, no squirrel, no flies. Nothing. Absolute silence. I looked over the edge from a safe distance and realized directly below is where I had my “woe is me” misery just a short while before.
It felt like someone was behind me so I whipped around. I kept moving around because it constantly felt like someone was practically on top of me. Eventually it got incredibly difficult to breathe and my chest became tight. I was effin out of there. Whatever the shenanigans that goes on there has stirred up some dark energy in my opinion. It had a suffocation aspect to it for sure, not something you would expect from the biggest, most beautiful mausoleum with a stunning view of the river from the highest cliff of the cemetery would warrant.
I rushed down the path and back into the cemetery, my husband catching up (I’m learning that I am quite frequently leaving him behind. I need to work on that). We started to walk down the path once again, towards the opposite side of the cemetery when the animals and birds began to make their appearances once again. It seemed like the unholy cloud was being lifted and things were set right again. Just as I started to relax enough to finish exploring, the perimeter of the cemetery, lined with thick rows of trees all let loose and poured down more acorns then I could imagine. YOU COULD SEE SHEETS OF THEM crashing down to the ground, all around us. There was no breeze, no forestland fairies shaking the trees, no teamed up pair of trickster chipmunks knocking them off…just sheets of acorns falling from acres of trees.
I will also add that just prior to discovering the mausoleum I slipped into a hole and slid under a gravestone about a third of the way up my shin. That wasn’t all that fun either, but it was easier to laugh that off. That will teach me to try to brush the moss off of someone’s stone.
Take out of this what you will but I don’t typically run around calling places haunted unless I can’t explain away every single thing. I can’t explain any of this. The feeling of being near that mausoleum has stuck with me for a few days now. Since I have gone I have been irritable more often than not, very low energy due in part by not sleeping well and having very odd dreams. This as well as constant nausea has me thinking maybe I should take more precautions than I already do when I go on these little excursions.
Believe it or not, just be extra careful when you’re dealing with things you don’t know much about.
Comentários