I found a old super 8 camera up on Springer mountain in Georgia. My mom had an old projector so we played the film and it turned out to be a couple having sex in an anthill.
I lived in a national park by myself for three months. Several times when I was going back to my trailer for the day, I would hear music like a music box or an ice cream truck. It was always loud and sounded like it was coming from somewhere over my head. One day I decided to look for the source so I followed the dirt road past my trailer. The music continued, I couldn’t tell if I was getting closer or not. I had my eyes on the trees and looked down just in time to avoid stepping on a snake. I scrambled back but it didn’t move. I realized it was dead and it wasn’t alone, there were half a dozen dead copperheads stretched out in the road, looking in the same direction.
I went back to get my car because I couldn’t bring myself to step over them, but by the time I got my keys, the music had stopped and I didn’t hear it again.
Sometime after this happened, my friends told me there was a haunted prison in the same park, the Pea Farm. So, that was good to know.
Over the years when I have told this story, many people haven’t believed me, but it’s true as the sky is blue. Me and my brother were hiking out in our new backwoods (we had just moved in to a new house) and we stumbled upon a small open grass field. In the center of it, there was a person with a blue jacket crouched over. We thought it was a friend of ours that we had recently met, so I ran out to meet. I did not have my glasses on, but I got pretty close enough to see that it was a grown man leaned over the carcass of a deer, stabbing it with an unsharpened stick. He looked up, and saw me. I was pretty freaked out, so I turned around and yelled at my brother to run, and so we started to sprint as fast as we could back home.
When I was 19, I spent a lot of time wandering the west coast. I was a pretty naive girl. I decided to backpack the Lost Coast (close to Eureka, CA) and as I was driving the long single lane dirt road to get to the starting point, I noticed a completely out of place Escalade tailgating me hard. I finally pulled over and let them pass. Not long after, I get to what looks like a tiny little grocery store. The only other car is the Escalade. I head inside and see four huge guys talking to the shop owner behind the counter. These guys were enormous, all four were easily around 6’4-6’6 and three of them looked like pure iron. The leader had the longest dreads I had ever seen. These guys were tough and their persona resonated all the way to the door where I was standing. They immediately stopped talking and looked at me. They were not smiling, and the dreadlock fellow had scars all over his face. I turned around and walked out, headed down to the coast and did my backpacking thing. When I finished, I hitched a few rides back to my car. The different locals who picked me told me stories about the massive amounts of marijuana being grown in the area and the patrols used to secure the crops. They thoroughly warned me not to camp in the area and to NEVER leave the road. “People die out here” they said. So, yeah. California pot mafia.