scary places

Over the course of my life, I have encountered many eerie locations that have given me the chills. Despite all those fearful situations, only three places have ever successfully handicapped my lungs from providing oxygen to my heart. I could not begin to predict the events that would occur when I decided to visit a jail hostel, a cemetery, or a cellar. Until these visits, I have never been frozen from head to toe, unable to conduct a move. My previous hair raising experiences are practically nonexistent compared to my journey to The Ottawa Jail Hostel, the Garden Cemetery, or a friend's basement cellar. To begin, the first place that is soon going to put goose bumps on my skin is the Ottawa Jail Hostel. In order to reach the hostel I first walk down an abandoned street. The air surrounding me is cold and the stench of death wafts with the wind. The lit sky I have previously clung to fades out in what seems like an instant, causing darkness to take over. Above me, not a star can be seen. Each of my determined steps claps against the chipped pavement, fearfully dodging the various holes waiting to imprison me. The sickly thin, yellow dotted line binds me to the ride side of the road. A swift movement in the zombified grass strikes massive amounts of paranoia into my heart, as I am supposedly alone. Telling myself to ignore all fear inciting explanations, I continue down the street until I reach a wooden house dating back to the early 1800's. I glimpse up from a glued stare at my feet to the utter shock of a large wood panelled building. The sign in front faintly reads "Ottawa Jail Hostel”. The sign is broken and old rusting nails stick out like sore thumbs. From where I am standing I can see a green and brown substance covering both the sign and house. An aroma of damp cotton, and wet leaves identifies the strange substance as rot. The scent is not unpleasant. Wood slowly disintegrating to a weak and fragile fibre, indicating the poor upkeep to the house. I am