scary story

When we were high school seniors or around that age, we used to go to a place called "Old State Road" in Cayce, SC, close to where we lived. We would go there to drink and get in trouble, like many kids did. Old State Road was the old road from Columbia SC (where the civil war started) to Charleston. It was no longer in use since highways had been built, just a dirt road that was out in the woods. There was tons of lore surrounding it, though. It was rumored to be the meeting place of the current KKK, and there were two 'satanic churches' hidden somewhere off the road. There were also random gravesites out in the woods, with centuries old markers, most of which were collapsed. It would be the perfect place for a teen horror film.

The biggest legend involved a certain bridge - an old cement bridge with just enough room for one car to pass over a creek that was about 20 feet below. The story went that if you shut off your car while parked on the bridge, put the keys on the roof, and waited, you would hear a baby crying. Your car then would not start.

One night, of course we tried it. Nothing happened, but it was a pretty creepy place when you turned the car lights off in the deep forest of backwater South Carolina. Disappointed, we decided to go look for the 'satanic churches'. The oldest member of our group, Jerome, said he knew where they were. Said that one was really a satanic church, and one was just a creepy house that was closer to the road.

We drove off in search of the place. I vaguely remember driving through corn fields to get there. Like, actually driving off the road and running over the corn plants, you know, like stupid kids would do. (how I long for those days....). Finally we got to where the 'churches' were supposed to be. It was way off the road, and we had to trek through weedy forest to get there, and really wandered around a lot, since we really didn't know exactly where we were going. Oh, and we only had one flashlight between the five of us.

Eventually, we came up to a small old house, broken out windows, over grown with weeds. This must be the house that Jerome thought was closer to the road. He hadn't been there, but knew someone who had. Me, being the youngest and stupidest, took point. I poked my head in the door, and shined the flashlight around. Typical trashed abandoned house that you would find in that area, but lots more graffitti. Tagging and spray paint art hadn't made it down to the South yet, and graffitti was pretty rare. This was really hastily done cryptic symbols and phrases. I wish I remember what they said.

We walked in a ways and shone the flashlight about. The most bizarre thing was that there were clothes everywhere. Piles and piles of clothing. The place was just covered in clothing. The piles were too high to walk through many places. Almost every inch of the place was covered in jeans, sweatshirts, t-shirts, etc. Like someone had emptied a semi headed for Goodwill.

We went in a couple rooms into the house, but got so absolutely creeped out, that we all had to leave. We couldn't get out quick enough. Nothing happened, but the place had just so damn weird of an aura that we couldn't take it.

So we went somewhere else and drank and smoked pot and stuff.