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The Stone On The Tombstone

June 15, 2011

The first happened when I was a younger kid, maybe 10 or 11. My cousins and I were staying (with our parents) our at our family’s camp grounds, way out in the Appalachians in WV, We were always going off and exploring the woods and the all the nature and everything, and we knew that down the road from the camp (it’s not like a tent-style camping area, but we have cabins and an uncle who built a big house for everyone to stay in) there was a path that led up to a BIG field. So we all decide we’re gonna walk down one day and take that path up to the field and just go play around. When we get to the field, we’re kind of surprised to see it’s maintained and the grass is mowed or at least it’s not tall, and we’re playing out there and we see off in the distance that there’s something out there with a black wrought-iron fence around it… and it turns out to be the this incredibly old cemetery. Now, what immediately registers as creepy is the fact that there is no way to get to that cemetery except by foot. It’s surrounded by acres and acres of field. The gate to the fence is locked, and so we climb it and go in and we’re checking the tombstones out, and they’re all from like the 30s and back, old old old. We notice a lot of them have little mementos and stuff left there, and my cousin sees this big shiny stone on one of them, and he pockets it, and eventually we end up back home. SO, where it gets creepy, that night we all wake up to a LOUD banging at the front door. It sounds like someone is straight up trying to kick the door down, and we’re all FREAKING out. We’re in the cabin for the kids, by ourselves, and all of our parents are surely asleep. I’m paralyzed on one sofa, begging my cousin to look out the window, when suddenly the banging stops. We all crowd together on my couch, and no one moves until the sun comes up. So my cousins and I figure maybe it’s the stone he took, and we need to put it back. There’s just a little problem… we can’t find it. Eventually we assume he lost it somewhere or something, I don’t remember the exact details, and it’s not until we make our way back out to that cemetery a few days later with some cousins that just arrived, that we find the damn stone, right back where he took it from, sitting on top of that tombstone. We. ran. for. our. lives.

– Posted by DevoALMIGHTY; Reddit

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