Late summer 2006, my husband and myself along with two of our friends decided to venture to an old run down mental institution out in Tuscaloosa. I've always heard it referred to as 'Old Bryce', but Bryce was and still is open, this place is know as 'The Jemison' and it shut down in the late 70's.
It first opened in the late 1800's as a mental ward for African Americans. I will never forget the day we went there. We were trespassing, I will admit, which is highly illegal and I do not suggest anyone do that.
We ventured there in midday so we could see everything better. It had a long flat driveway, about a quarter of a mile long that was lined with incredibly old oak trees. As we reached the front of the building, it had 4 tall white columns that decorated the entry way.
My husband and his friend went one way, me and my friend went the other. We were there for hours going through everything piece by piece when finally my friend and I made our way to the crematorium on the back side of the asylum.
It was by far the creepiest place, even with the sun lighting everything up. There were still human ashes in the fire pit, and four doors so that they could burn four bodies at a time. My friend decided that this would be a great time to see if "anyone" was still around.
So she started calling out for something to make itself known to us, and not a moment later we started to hear footsteps in the gravel outside the door and I quickly stated that "the boys must have heard us"...man was I wrong, in broad daylight, phantom footsteps so loud we were able to follow them on the gravel with our eyes, walked in from outside, made a complete circle around us and then stopped right in between me and my friend. We both stared at each other absolutely frozen for several seconds and then ran like hell, lol.
Story Submission: Elizabeth, Alabama.
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