Have you ever done something and later regret it? Yeah... I am never doing cursed movies as a theme ever again. Last week I worked really hard to write all the posts for this week, schedule social media posts, and started writing next week's posts because I will be on vacation. You may have noticed that there was no post on Wednesday. I had a post scheduled, but it has disappeared from WordPress. I had this post planned for today, but the Poltergiest part disappeared. All the social media planned on Plannerly disappeared. And all the posts for next week I had started writing on Grammarly, and the pictures I had saved for the posts are also gone. One site I could understand. Two makes me think it may have been user error. Three or more just tells me I pissed something off... So if my site crashes this weekend, you know why. I will never cover this topic again. I am posting this because I don't have time to research another topic while redoing everything for next week.
I first visited the Old City jail in December 2012. I was on a trip with Bob, the Wilmington paranormal group leader I was training at the time. The trip was to Savannah and Charleston.
While we lived in Iwakuni, I often heard about some of the various haunted locations in Okinawa. There are so many places, legends, and customs that I could (and will) write several posts about them but today I am going to focus on some of the paranormal activity that I have heard about happening on military bases.
Often horror movies and television shows call upon the truth to help make their stories seem scarier to the viewers. A few years ago, American Horror Story did a season based on spirits trapped in a hotel. Some doomed to repeat their fates over and over while other spirits caused the deaths the living which added to the amount of spirits staying at the hotel.
Why do so many campgrounds seem to be the locations of murders? Is it because no one can hear the victim scream for help? The two campgrounds that I am writing about today have spirits who are still looking for help and reliving their murders.
While I was in middle school, I was lucky enough to become friends with a girl in band class by the name of Heather. We both played flute in Ms. Hoell class. Not only were we friends, but our parents became great friends.
Intrigued, I read through the book trying to figure out what the note was in regards to. Imagine my surprise that there was absolutely no mention of the murder in the book, the victim, or anything really. Stumped I tried googling it but all I could find was a picture of the headstone which was the information written on the note. No matter how I did the search, I couldn’t find out anything about the murder.