the following tale took place in the summer of 1988, in the small town of Trafalgar, Indiana. I was ten years old. Either you choose to believe this story or you don't. It doesn't matter to me. I was there when it happened, and I have wished everyday since that it wasn't true. But in my heart of hearts, I know the truth.

My family lived out in the country. Not total sticks, but at least 30 minutes from nearest grocery store. Anyway it was summer time and school was out. I had two sisters, so let's just say I spent a great deal of time playing by myself. I never really minded it because I always had a great imagination and playing by myself gave me all the freedom to call the shots. Behind my house was a big woods that a group of five neighbors had built their houses around. There were the Nettles, the Robinsons, my family the Smiths, the Mitchels, and then there was the "mystery house." Now I knew all of these families quite well. Mrs. Nettles was actually my 2nd grade teacher. The Mitchells had a son and daughter that were a little older than me and my oldest sister. They rode the bus with us. Mr. Robinson was the coolest neighbor of all time. He built a chane of interlocking trails through the woods with his tractor that all of the kids could use. His granddaughter Tracy lived with them, and we were in the same class. And then there was the mystery house. None of us kids knew who lived there, and I know my parents didn't have a clue either. The house set back in the woods, directly behind my house in the context of this little five house circuit. Anyway, one of my favorite places to go off anf play by myself was out in the woods. My parents didn't mind as long as I was back before dark. So there I was, ten years old, and taking a duffel bag of GI Joes out in the woods all summer long to play by myself. I always set up shop in a nice little spot by a little creek, not far off of one of Mr. Robinsons trails. From this spot I could still here my mom if she was yelling at me to come back to the house. However, the real reason I chose this particular spot was because it provided the best view of the "mystery house." I had a wierd obsesion with this house. You couldn't see it in full because it had those tall shrubs that private people put all around their house. Throughout the years me and my friends had poked through the shrubs and got a peek at the whole house. It was a nice house, bigger then our house and all the other neighbors. It was also 3 stories, so you could always see the top stories of the house from my little play spon in the woods. Also, that is where "the window" was. A single window jetting out of the top floor of the house. I used to stare at the window and simply wonder what was going on inside it.

9/3/2012 3:33:07 AM

Anyway, before I bog you down with to much description I will get to the horrifying tale at hand. One day when I was out in my spot playing like any other day, a terrible feeling overcame me. All of the sudden I froze with fear. I have been scared since in my life but never have I felt so paralyzed by fear. I'm not sure how to put this, but all of the sudden I became very aware that someone was watching me. I know what you're all thinking, "It must of been from from the window of the mystery house." Actually no. I felt, or knew that someone or something was watching me and it was with me in the woods where I was playing. For what seemed like eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, I could not move. I did not want to turn around and face whatever it was the was standing right behind me. Finally, I grabbed my bag of GI Joes and simply started walking toward my house. Not once did I turn around. I just calmly walked back to my house and went inside. I never told my parents about this incident. For a few days I was too terrified to go back in the woods. But finally boredom set in and I just chalked up the incident to my own wild imagination. Being ten years old and alone in the woods can be creepy sometimes I told myself.
So I finally get the balls to go out and play in the woods, although this time I left my GI Joes at the house and traveled alone. Looking back I suppose that was to have as little baggage as possible if I had a reason to get the hell out of there again. Also for some stupid reason, I went back to the exact same place. So I'm out here hanging out in the woods and all of the sudden, BAM!!!! That old familiar feeling of being watched. So, just like last time, I face the direction of my house and start walking. And then, the voice. It calmly said, "You don't have to leave." As scary as this might sound, it actually wasn't. The voice did not belong to some monster or boogeyman, but rather to a little girl.
Her name was Laura, or so she told me, and she lived in the "mystery house" with her mom and dad. She was an only child. She took me to a part of the woods on the other side of her house that I had not previously been. There was a manmade swing out there made out of rope and wood, that hung from two different trees. Laura would sit on the swing dangling her legs and ask me questions about myself, my life, my home life, etc...However, when I would inquire about her life, she would simply change hop off the swing and switch subjects. Laura was a year older than me, and she had dark brown eyes. Her hair was a brown moptop, much like peppermint patty from Peanuts. And her clothes never seemed to fit right for some reason. I couldn't tell if they were too big, or too small. They just didn't seem right to me. Anyway, this went on for a few days, maybe even a week. I would go out to the spot in the woods, and sooner than later, Laura would show up and we would go to the spot with the swing. Laura told me she was homeschooled and that her mother let her choose what lessons she would learn on certain days. This explained why she didn't ride my bus or go to my school. So one day we're hanging out in our little spot, when Laura tells me she wants to show me something. We go to this half dead tree and she shows me where she carved her name in the bark. It was her name inside a heart. Then she reaches in the hollow part of the tree and pulls out a pack of marlboro reds. She tells me she stole them from her mom, and then she teaches me how to smoke. That's right, I am ten years old, hanging out in the woods and smoking cigs with an older woman. Laura informs me that her bedroom is the one with the single window on the 3rd floor. The whole floor, or attic, is one big bedroom for her. That was about as personal as she ever got about her home life. I don't know how to explain it, but I got the feeling that Laura's parents weren't exactly "good."
So I tell my family about my new friend in the woods, leaving out the smoking part, and they just think it's great. My older sister of course teases me about my "girlfriend" in the woods. I'm sure they wondered why she never came out of the woods and up to my yard, but they never said anything. And then one day, Laura was gone. I went back to the spot, and Laura never came back. Being ten years old, you just accept things, and eventually I forgot about Laura.
Flash forward to the next summer. The mystery house is put up for sale, and they are having an open house. After much pleading, me and my sister eventually convice my mom to take us to the open house. We all knew we could not afford the house, but out of curiosity we all want to see how nice the inside is. So we go, just like any open house there are a few people there. Laura's mom is there to greet us, and it is shocking how similar their eyes are. There is no denying that this is Laura's mother. My mom introduces herself, and explains that we have been neighbors for a while. When she did this, Laura's mom looked directly at me and said, "Yeah, I think I recognize this little guy." Something about it just rubs me the wrong way. My mom ask if they have any kids, and the Lady says that she lost her daughter a few years ago. That was all she said about it. "Lost." So my mom assumes she means her daughter died and quickly changes the subject. At this point my whole family is a little freaked out because they know my stories of playing with the little girl in the woods. So this lady proceeds to show us around the house, and we politely go along. After the second floor, the lady tells us thanks for coming by and says she is sorry that she has been our neighbor for so long and is just now meeting us. However, I know the tour isn't over. I know that there is a third floor, because Laura told me her bedroom was up there. But the lady never shows us the third floor. I am getting really freaked out and feeling faint when all of the sudden Laura's mother looks at me and I swear to you she uttered these words. "What's wrong little guy, you look like you've seen a ghost."
We get in the car and head home, and mom tells me that she doesn't want me going out in the woods anymore without some supervision. My sister is convinced that there is a ghost of a little dead girl out in the woods behind my house. We even start referring to her as "Laura of the Woods." There was one time that I went back to my spot in the woods. I somehow knew Laura would be looking for me from her window. When I got there I looked up and sure enough someone was watching me from the window. But it wasn't Laura. It was her mother, and it scarred the shit out of me. I spend the next 18 years of my life convinced that I was friend with a ghost when I was ten.

9/3/2012 3:33:39 AM

Flash forward 18 years. I am 28 and married. My uncle Bill has recently purchased the old Robinson house and we are all going there for a cookout. We're are all just sitting around drinking beers, and all of the sudden my sister brings up Laura of the Woods. Now, we have not taalked about this as a family in a very long time. Plus my wife has not heard the whole story either. So I tell the story in full. However this time I mention the cigarettes and realize my family never knew that part. My sister convices me to to take her and my wife to the tree with her name carved in it. Because I am half popped, this sounds like a good deal. Mr. Robinsonhas been dead for a few years but his man made trails are still imprinted into the land. I finally get to the spot and sure enough there sits the swing that Laura used to sit on, and a little beyond that we come to the tree. There in the bark encircled by a heart is the name Laura. We are all getting a little spooked out. Then without thinking I reached my hand into the hollow part of the tree. I knew what it was as soon as my hand touched it. Yet I pulled it out anyway to show my wife and sister. There in my hand was an 18 year old pack of marlboros. Needless to say we got out of there in a hurry. However, now there was a flaw in my story. All these years I thought I was playing with a ghost. But would a ghost be able to smoke and carve their name into a tree. Now I was convinced that Laura was completely real.
Flash forward a few months. I have caught food poisoning from Olive Garden of all places. This is another scary story(don't ever order shell fish from a midwest olive garden) but I save that for another thread. Anyway I was sick as a dog and running a fever. I'm talking sick out of my mind. So I slept. And while I slept, I had this dream. I am walking through the woods of my childhood. I know this because I am on one of Mr. Robinsons trails. I go along the very familiar path. It is a strange grey outside. I think it is right before the the day turns over to night. I turn a corner, and there is a wooden bench overlooking the valley that leads down to a little stream. Laura is sitting on the bench. I am coming at her from behind, but I know who it is. The pepperment patty hair and strange clothing mean it could be no one else. I walk around to the front of the bench and look at her. She is laughing this evil little giggle. Kind of like she is saying, "I got you." I am fucking terrified. Then she puts her hand in her hair, and simply pulls it off. What I realized at that moment is something that I don't like to talk about. In fact just typing it out right now I am starting to sweat. Oh man, those dark familiar eyes. My wife said I woke up screaming like a madman, "It was always her mother, it was always her mother!!"

Now it is freaky enough for a kid to think that he had been friends with a ghost when he was a kid. It is downright scarry as hell when he realizes he was playing with a grown woman talking like a little girl and wearing her dead daughters clothes.

This is my story of Laura of the woods, take it as you will.

I know it was long, and probably scares me more than you, but it happened to me. It will always be with me. It is a part of me.

9/3/2012 3:34:02 AM

9/3/2012 4:19:42 AM

laura of the [words]



if it were really her mother, i feel like you would have recognized that sooner.

[Edited on September 3, 2012 at 7:31 AM. Reason : .]

9/3/2012 7:13:19 AM

Duuuuuuuuuude- That's craaay-zee

9/3/2012 8:37:20 AM

lewoods?

9/3/2012 9:58:32 AM

You should make that into a screenplay.

[Edited on September 3, 2012 at 10:09 AM. Reason : anyone know how long of a screenplay makes an hour and a half movie?]

9/3/2012 10:08:45 AM

^ha, i was just about to say the same thing

[Edited on September 3, 2012 at 10:20 AM. Reason : prolly about 140 when you consider cutting]

9/3/2012 10:17:35 AM

I think average screenplays made into movies are between 130 and 150... My cousin likes writing wacky ones, and his most recent is about 220

9/3/2012 11:24:31 AM

...yo holmes to bel air!

9/3/2012 12:14:50 PM

It was a dark, dark night when I met Laura in the woods; naked. Her supple breasts smelled of cookie crisp and fermented mayo. Her hair flowed and echoed in the dark void of the sycamore trees. As I laid her down on the tapestry of the Mother Earth, I let out a back-end howl of the gaseous variety that smelled of spicy curry and garlic bread. As her pancake titties touched my man titties, I cringed in pleasure and delight. With each thrust in and out, all I could think about was saps852.

9/3/2012 12:27:31 PM

I really liked this story. The kid's family seems really cool, and I liked the neighbors too.

Definitely make into a movie!

9/3/2012 12:40:50 PM

I can't ever see mistaking a grown ass woman for an eleven year old girl.

9/3/2012 12:44:22 PM

A diminutive lady can definitely fool a little kid.

9/3/2012 12:45:44 PM

Maybe a retarded little kid.

Saps = retard EXPOSED?!?!?

9/3/2012 3:45:04 PM

yes, but that is beside the story because this is not his story

9/3/2012 3:48:12 PM

^oh? what's the origin of this story?

9/3/2012 3:49:48 PM

I'm gonna guess one of his dirty hippy message boards

9/3/2012 4:05:58 PM

http://lmgtfy.com/?q=laura+of+the+woods

9/3/2012 4:06:43 PM

Good story.

9/4/2012 8:45:28 AM

9/4/2012 8:33:35 PM