ooh, I actually got goose bumps...LOL... that is the sign of a good spooky tale. Keep it up,
| Perched on the crest of West Mountain, above the Victorian village of Eureka Springs, Arkansas is the historic 1886 Crescent Hotel and Spa. The beautiful resort hotel is not only known as one of America’s most distinctive and historic destinations, but also known as a home of spirits. Spirits that know no boundaries.
Our story begins, however, when the famous Crescent Hotel and Spa had failed to succeed. It is now Crescent College and Conservatory for Young Girls. The year is 1923, the beginning of a new school year for all, but a beginning of a new life for one. That person is Lydia Baker. Lydia Baker was new to the area, having just moved to Eureka Springs from Boston, Massachusetts, that summer.
On the very first day of school, Lydia met three girls. Their names were Catherine Fairchild, Alleta King, and Amy Smith.” Do you know the history of this great school?” Alletta asked sarcastically. “No, is it interesting?” she asked. “It is definitely not boring,” Catherine replied. “Let me tell it!” exclaimed Amy. As she began the tale, the other girls sat quietly back on the ancient red sofa.
“In 1886,” Amy begins, “This great school was the Crescent Hotel and Spa. The mystery actually begins in 1885, when it was being built. The day was October 13, 1885. A sunny day, a day no one would think of a tragic death happening, but that is just what happened. A red-haired stonesman, by the name of Michael O’Malley, was working on the roof of the hotel when, all of a sudden, he lost his balance. He fell to the second floor, breathing his last breath in Room 218.” Lydia gasped. The last thing she said before she passed out was, “That is my room.”
Lydia lay awake in the dark room willing night to pass. When morning finally came, she jumped put of bed and got dressed. Instead of paying attention to the expensive education her parents were paying for, Lydia thought of a poor man by the name of Michael. That night, as she waited for sleep to claim her, Lydia heard the floorboards of the old room squeak. “Who’s there?” she asked. The only reply she got was the sound of footsteps getting louder and closer. She hid under the covers of her large canopy bed. The footsteps finally stopped and the dark room got eerily quiet. When she finally gathered the nerve to look over the covers, she came face to face with a red-headed man. She let out a blood-curdling scream.
“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” the man said. When Lydia calmed down, the only words she could get out of her mouth were, “What is your name?” “Michael,” he replied before disappearing into the night. Lydia awoke to the bells in the square of Eureka Springs chiming the hour of six o’clock. All day she thought about her night visitor. As she lay in bed that night, she heard the footsteps began. When she saw him, she didn’t scream. Somehow, she knew he wasn’t going to go away. So, she did what any proper girl of her time would do; she got to know him.
That semester, and half of the other, past fast for Lydia. Lydia became less afraid of Michael and even became to like him. She had finally seen him in the light one day and had gotten a better look at him. His handsome face and muscular body were to die for and very rare in her social circle in 1923. His green eyes could coax even the most man-hating woman to like him. She never told anyone of her visits from Michael. That was her first mistake.
On day, a cold day in the middle of March, Michael visited her in the waking hours, a rare occurrence. She was at her desk, working on her homework she had put off all week and was due tomorrow. “Lydia?” he asked her. “Yes,” she replied, only half listening. “I love you,” he said. He said it in a way one would announce the weather for the day. Neither excited nor sad, just needed. Slowly she turned her body in the wooden chair and stared at him. “How is that possible? You are a ghost.” She asked him. “Just because im a ghost doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings,” he replied. “The only thing you have to do to be with me is kill yourself.” She looked at him like he was mad. “I cannot nor will not kill myself, and I do NOT love you!” she exclaimed. He looked at her and said in a voice laced with anger and self pity, “You will regret you ever denied me.” Then he was gone, leaving her staring at the place he had been.
The next afternoon, she opened the doors that led to her balcony. She leaned over the railing, watching the geese in the small lake flock about. She felt him before she saw him. “Have you changed your mind?” he asked. “No, and I never will, “she replied and turned her back to him. “Then you leave me no choice,” he said quietly. So quiet, Lydia never heard him. He took her by her arms and lifted her over the balcony. He let go of her like he was letting go of something he loved, but knew he would get back, hesitantly but sure. The last thing she heard him say was “I love you.” The last thing the world heard were her screams, as she fell to her death and into the arms of her unwanted lover.
Today, year 2008, the Crescent College and Conservatory for Young Girls no longer exists. The Crescent Hotel and Spa has been returned to its former glory. Room 218 is still haunted; only guest and staff say they hear two screams now instead of one. One belongs to Michael O’Malley and the other belongs to his unwilling lover, Lydia Baker.
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