I’m here again with another strange tale. Maryland is full of strange stories, myths, and legends, but one of the most culturally important facts of my state is: you can’t throw a rock without hitting something that is haunted. I grew up on the Eastern Shore in Caroline county, which meant I spent a lot of time running around in the woods and on, in, or near the Choptank River. Looking back on it, that river was filthy and dangerous and the fact that I nor any of my friends got ill or drowned is a miracle inofitself. Regardless, I remember the first time I went to my best friend’s grandma’s and was blown away by her beautiful home right on the river. It was gorgeous and the property, nestled against the woods and just outside of town, was near enough to Denton that we could always find some trouble to get into. Unfortunately for us, trouble was a lot closer than we had anticipated.
One night in the early fall, I decided to spend the night with a new friend who would eventually become like a sister to me. To protect her, let’s call her Victoria. She hates that name, so naturally I had to use it. Victoria lived with her grandmother and it wasn’t until after graduation that we had become close. The minute I stepped on the property for the first time, I was blown away by it. And it’s beauty distracted me initially from the sense of being watched that seemed to intensify the closer night came. The afternoon wore on like any other. We watched movies, talked about colleges, and stuffed our faces with snacks. But as night began to fall, Victoria looked at me and said “Hey, did you know the woods behind our house is haunted?”