A contribution from Kenzie
Hill South in Fredericksburg, VA. The battlefield of the Civil War itself.
It was Halloween of 1997, I was 13 when something unexplainable happened
to me and my friend Amy. Amy and I were going out for the night to scare
the crap out of other kids. We wore Michael Myers costumes that we made
ourselves. Michael Myers is our favorite murderer and his movies are our
favorite series, too. Our friends would tell us how creepy we looked when
we stared at them, b/c the masks we wore had no expression. No smile, nor
a frown. But that was pretty cool to us. We were having a blast.
Practically scaring every single person in the neighborhood. We were on
our way home. It was really dark now and quiet. Everybody on our street
had already gone to bed for the night. It was 9:30pm. As we walked down
the steep hill to my house, something white caught my eye. I looked to my
right towards the pond near my house. In the woods that stood beyond the
ponds’ shore, I noticed someone running, as if running from an enemy.
Amy and I quickly ran into the woods and followed behind. It was a young
boy, about our age. He was wearing clothes from the 1700’s. I guess it
was his Halloween costume. He stopped to catch his breath, but Amy and I
kept our distance at about 10ft. or so away and crouched down behind and
old fallen tree. The boy was wearing a medal around his neck, and had
something cradled in his left arm. He jumped up and quickly looked behind
him as if to see if he was still being followed. His right arm was
drenched in blood. Fake blood we thought. And then he looked down at his
left arm and smiled. He spoke to whatever was in his arm in an accent,
like English. “I have got to get you to mother before the Red Coats find
us again.” Then we heard a baby cry. That’s what he was holding…a
baby. But why would he be carrying around a baby in the middle of the
night on Halloween? I smiled. “Must be one hell of a Halloween freak. He’s
really into his Halloween character. Even talks like someone from the 1700’s.”
The boy looked up again and his eyes widened. And then he began to run
again. We looked back, too, and saw nothing. But we did hear something.
Drums. And gunshots. We got up and ran after the boy again. We heard dogs
barking now. The boy ran up a hill, his medal breaking away from his neck
as he ran. He didn’t stop to come back for it. As soon as he was over
the ridge, we heard another gunshot that seemed much louder and closer by.
Then silence. No drums, no gunshots, no dogs. We ran up the hill to
retrieve the boys’ medal. It was gone. The boy was gone too. We couldn’t
find him anywhere. It was really late now, and Amy and I were in the
middle of the woods. We ran out of there as fast as we could. We were so
scared and confused about what had happened. The next day, Amy and I went
back into the woods, and went back to the same area where the boy was last
seen. The only thing that remained was a mound of dirt. There were mounds
of dirt everywhere in the woods. My father had told me once, that they
were the graves of soldiers who died during the Civil War. I walked around
it once and noticed something shiny that was exposed a little in the dirt.
I dug into the dirt just enough to pull whatever it was out. I lifted it
into the air and brushed off the access dirt that remained on the object.
“Messenger of Robert E. Lee,” was engraved on the object. It was a
By Kenzie Reynolds