A Night At Central High School

A coworker told me this unforgettable story about his time in high school. I’m now writing from his perspective. All names have been changed.

Central High School in Springfield, Missouri is haunted. I know what you’re thinking, every kid says their school is haunted. But my story is different. I saw it. Central was actually the first high school in Springfield, and the original brick building with its tower still stands, but has now expanded with many new wings.

We’d all heard the stories about the steam tunnels that connected the buildings and the supposed hangings, but far more compelling was the story of the deadly principal who would whip troublesome students to death. That would’ve happened long ago when Springfield was a small town and not the queen city of the Ozarks. We had heard the rumors, the stories that were likely exaggerated, but being high schoolers, we knew we had to do one thing: be at the school late at night.

I was the one who came up with the idea that we needed to join the drama class. They were preparing a performance of South Pacific, and as I explained to my group of friends, the way to get in would be to join the class as stagehands, stay to clean after the performance, and then just stay. And that was what we did. Well, only a couple of us actually got on the crew, but after everyone else had left, letting them in was simple.

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I saw him on the bus

I saw my ex boyfriend on the bus today. That isn’t necessarily scary, so much as stress-inducing. But let me give you some backstory so you’ll understand why it upset me so much.

I’m an eighteen-year-old female on the west coast of Canada, and when I was dating this guy – we’ll call him Cam – I was sixteen. We had a really strong relationship, as we were best friends before we were romantically involved. We dated for almost a year, until I went out of province to Quebec on a summer exchange to learn French. At the same time, Cam went to a cadet camp in Alberta with his squadron. When we came home, I received a message on facebook from a girl in Alberta who claimed that Cam had cheated on me with her. When I confronted Cam about this, he confessed that she was one of five girls that he had cheated on me with. Needless to say, I dumped him.

I have Borderline Personality Disorder, and after the break up I became incredibly depressed. I hadn’t wanted to break up, and I was still really attached to him. I attempted suicide, and ended up in a coma in the hospital after overdosing. I woke up after a day, and when I was fully recovered I was moved to the Psychiatric ward. I actually have a few other stories about people in the psych ward that I can write later, if requested.

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The Party Pooper

This happened to me and a group of friends back in the summer of 2015. I have changed the names just in case any of them hear this recollection of a truly traumatic event.

My best friend Shaun, his twin sister Cassidy and I were celebrating our recent graduation with a large backyard barbecue. The majority of the graduating class shows up and all was going swimmingly. The party was completely cool with my parents under two conditions: no alcohol and an adult had to be on hand by the door to make sure nothing was snuck in.

I ran this past my friends and we all agreed the terms were cool with us. So back to the party. We ended up having it on the fourth of July. Just good friends, good times, and a nice fireworks display from the park down the block at the end of the night. 60+ people were in the large field on the back of my property, enjoying cheap pop and hot dogs or playing flag football. The ones hanging around in the yard or the house were treated to a random Youtube playlist being blared through my speakers. Rock and Hip-Hop with a few cringeworthy selections thrown in for laughs made for a great time. So when “The Ding Dong Song” by Gunter came through the speakers nobody was phased. The next thing I knew Shaun came outside and got me with a grin on his face. “Dude you’ve gotta see this.” He said as he pulled me into my living room.

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Drama Club Creep

This happened in my junior year of high school.

I was taking Drama as my elective for the spring semester and we were all getting ready for the spring play. There was one boy in my class, we’ll call him Aaron. Aaron was new to the school and rumor had it that he had come from a place for troubled kids. As a victim of rumors myself throughout high school, I don’t pay much attention to them. So I tried to get to know him better.

For the first few weeks,  he seemed pretty cool. He always told me how pretty I was and that he was glad he’d taken drama since it gave him a chance to meet me.

Fast forward to a few months before summer break. We’re rehearsing for the play. I was one of the female leads and Aaron was helping paint the backdrops.

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Facing my Mortality in Stygian Darkness

During the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of high school, I had the opportunity to participate in a really incredible summer programme. It was about a month long and would give us art, PE, and science credit in return for jaunting all over the American West to camp, bike, hike, spelunk, white-water raft, conduct field experiments in geology and biology, draw wildlife, make pottery out of raw clay we gathered ourselves — you get the picture. It was a blast, and I remember most of it with great fondness.

There were a couple of experiences, though, that still give me a chill when I think about them — and this one is the worst.

It was one bright morning in June when me and my group (three teachers and about 20 students) turned up at the lip of the short vertical well that marked the entrance to the Nutty Putty cave. Nutty Putty cave was discovered in the 1960’s, and is located just west and north of central Utah. It is a hydrothermal feature located in a very fossiliferous area (home to cherty limestone, dolomite, Deseret limestone, and all sorts of other exciting things). Despite this, the formations in the cave are not the calcite stalactites and stalagmites some people expect — instead it’s just sort of muddy and damp and brown, and the natural formations of Silicon Dioxide go mostly unnoticed by any but the real geology enthusiasts.

Getting into the cave itself was already a test of my nerves — first you had to clamber down the short vertical drop, and then crawl through what looks almost like a rabbit hole at the bottom. It quickly became clear that it was a little wider than it seems, but there was no way to move forward besides sliding in on your stomach across the rocky detritus of the cave floor for about 6-10 feet. Once you managed that, the cave opened up into something much more spacious.

Now — I have never been super excited about tight, enclosed spaces, but I don’t think that my discomfort at that time was any more than a lot of people have. As it was, I had to really give myself a pep-talk to get past that first crawl, but I managed to persuade myself to do it.  There are a few different routes which could be taken once inside, but my group pretty much all wanted to head down to the bottom reaches and the “Birth Canal” feature. This was a tight, absurdly small corkscrew tunnel of rock, and I still have no idea why they wanted to shove themselves through it like human toothpaste in a tube. I had no intentions of doing so, and there were a couple others who agreed with me.

The crowd who wanted to have their skeletons compressed stopped at the Birth Canal, and the handful remaining continued on towards the feature at the lowest reach of that arm of the cave. This was another loop of rock, but much wider and oriented vertically. You’d drop or climb down one side, move through the bottom “curve” of the loop, and then clamber up the other side. I was last in our line of intrepid spelunkers, and so I was the last into the loop. It wasn’t an impressively large feature, and the drop down into it was innocuous enough. The problem came, however, when I tried to get back up the other side.

I am not a tall dude. In fact, I’m really short — five feet tall, and despite being a pretty physically fit 14-year-old, arm strength wasn’t my strong suit.  I could brace myself with my feet on the rock and reach the handholds I would need to pull myself up, but I couldn’t get any leverage to push or jump with my legs thanks to a combination of the distance I had to span, and the angle.  The only option was to pull myself up by my arms, and it became dreadfully apparent to me right away that I wasn’t able to do this. If I had been fully rested and not suddenly suffused with joint-melting levels of mortal terror, I might have been able to manage it with a little luck, but I was already fatigued from the hour or so that we’d already been descending into the cave.  

For the first time in my young life, I became truly aware of my own mortality. As the moments passed and I literally could not pull myself up, I suddenly understood how people can just end up dead — and dead in the worst possible ways. I had never before really been in a situation where I had no way out, and I was utterly dependent upon the ability of another person to fish me out of the jaws of a really miserable death. I know this sounds dramatic and hyperbolic, but stay with me — I promise you it is not.

“Alex!” I said, my voice coming out as a dusty, terrified squeak. “Alex, I can’t get up!”

Luckily, my friend who had been next to last in line was still within earshot. He was about a foot taller than I was, and probably about 30% scrawnier. He came back to the edge of the drop and reached down for me — and luckily we managed between the two of us to scramble me up and out of the loop. I was pretty spooked, but I had to stick with my class, so we were in the cave for at least another hour or so. When we finally ascended the main gallery and emerged into the blazing desert sun — I tell you, I have never been more grateful to see the sky in my entire life.


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Small Town Chaos

Myself (Jason)> (Millie) my girlfriend >< (Lt. Alexander) {Jason’s father} <> (Dylan) Millie’s Brother.

*I changed the names to protect the identity of those involved*

Background  I am 19 years old and I have been A Volunteer Firefighter For our small town’s Fire district on Mt. Hood in Oregon since I was 16.

It was a Monday morning. I drove to my girlfriend’s house which is about 20 miles away from town,  located deep in the woods, to pick her up and give a ride to school to drive her to school like I do every morning.

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Psycho at School

I always believed in being kind and friendly to others until something happened to change that. In this particular case it was a boy named Larry from my geometry class sophomore year. I don’t mean to brag but I was one of the most intelligent kids in the class and always finished my assignments early. Larry, however, had lots of difficulty understanding what was going on.

The teacher asked me to help explain it to him since I was already finished with my own work. I tried to explain it to him slowly and step by step until I was sure he understood. In 3 days there was going to be a big test. On the day if the test I wished him good luck and told him to just do his best. He was pretty quiet and was never around a big group of people but he seemed like a pretty nice person.

A few days after we got our tests back. After class Larry walked over to me smiling and said he got a B.

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My Last Girlfriend Died

When I was a freshmen in high school, I experienced something that will make my first high school year unforgettable. There was this football player named Nick and trust me when i say he was every girls dreamguy he was! He was 6’1, smart, strong, and really hot. And his eyes were blue, they were gorgoues.

A guy like that, you’d think he’d be really popular and in some way he was. He just hated the idea being around people, and unlike any other guy he never partied or did anything fun. It was school, and practice for him. The creepiness all started out when i was waiting for a guy friend to finish with his football practice. Two other girls were sitting there with me waiting for my friend scott. Nick and two other guys walked toward us, the guys he was with were holding back their laughs. “hi mary” nick said in a really creepy but deep voice. He was a senior and I was a freshmen so i was very confused how he knew my name. My 15 year old slef, was a very very rude person and as the rude person i was i ignored him. One of the guys spoke and said, “would you ladies like to go to prom with us?”

They laughed out loud and walked away. At this point i thought they were all on something but i shook it off because highschool boys are dumb. Finally scott came and my two friends who were waiting with me left. Now scott had to leave really quick to change so i went and started talking to the couch. Nick was changed and all and he was on the field now staring at me and the couch, he approached and started to talk to the couch about missing  game or something and i excused myslelf.

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