As the story goes, in the late 1800s, at the plunge of Allisonville Road and 126th Street there was an aged school building. One day a terrible event occurred, the little school building caught fire. The fire then became out of control and all of the children were trapped inside. So, now a days if you happen to be driving on this section of Allisonville Road when it is foggy, you will see the dead children’s spirits standing in the road. And by the time you go to stop, it is too late and you strike them. Then as you stop your car in hopes that you didn’t just batter a child, you get out, and look around; there is no sign of the children anywhere. That is just a small piece of the story however, but as a student of the school I am willing to tell you the fine points, first hand.

The day began as a very gloomy overcast day, but as always, I walked outside in hopes that on my walk to school it would not begin to rain. As I arrived, I met up with all of my friends and we walked into the red double-doors of the single classroom school building. I remember it being very dark and the light was faint. The pearly white chalk however had shown bright on the black board. The desks were aligned neatly and everyone began to take their seat, in order to begin class. My teacher Miss Honey began saying,
“Today class, we will be working on our multiplication tables, and then we will be reading an excerpt from the book, Moby Dick.” We began our studies and practiced solving problems on the chalk board. One by one Miss Honey would call upon us to do a problem, and when it was my turn she said, “Molly, would you please step up to the board and answer what six times five is.” I replied, “Yes Miss Honey, I would be delighted.” I walked up to the board with confidence, and I felt this feeling as though everyone’s eyes were focused on me. It was a strange feeling but I ignored it and walked up to the board, answered the question, and then walked back and took a seat at my desk. As I went to sit down, my seat had apparently become frigid in those few moments that I had been away, for a small chill ran through my body, and I began to shake with a small restless movement, for a few minutes. But as I tried to become comfortable there, trying to stay warm by moving my arms and legs in different ways to keep the heat near to my figure, a loud noise caught me off guard. It started to storm. The sounds of thunder were repetitive. The glare of lightning through the window then stole my attention from the students still treading up to the board. I sat there, still cold, and gazing off into space. The entire classroom was silent and then the unimaginable happened.

The storm progressed and the lightning seemed as if the strikes were becoming closer and closer. All of a sudden a big bolt of lighting jolted out of the sky and struck the school building. It made a very deafening cracking noise. It frightened all of us and everyone began to panic. It appeared that the building was on fire. Everyone jumped up out of their seats, but there was too much chaos for anyone to escape. The fire became more intense, as we were pushing into each other trying to exit the building. All of our chances of getting out diminished when the whole exterior caught on fire. The noises became horrific inside, my friends and classmates were slowly catching on fire and screaming in pain for their life was ending. I knew I had no chance. The next thing I knew my sweater in the back caught on fire. I wrestled around trying to extinguish it, but it was spreading too fast. I began screaming, my body was on fire and there wasn’t anything else I could do. My skin was ablaze, and a few minutes later I blacked out.

Since, my life has now ended and all that is left of me is my spirits. Now that I am no longer living I have established that everyone in the building died that day. My spirits meet with those of others occasionally. We have a tendency to meet near the school grounds when it is foggy outside. It is due to the fact that when the weather is like that outside, it takes us back to that day when we were all together. We meet in order to stay in close contact with one another. There were so many friendships amongst all of us that we wanted to stay that way. But, our intentions are not to alarm those who pass by, but to remind them that we existed and that we still exist if they believe. And as the passerby gets out of their car to check things out, we disappear because we feel that if we are caught in the act, then our fate is determined and they some how will murder our spirits and we will no longer exist at all.

But if you do believe in spirits, and feel the urge to visit me so that we can become friends, you can stop by the Heady Hollow Cemetery. My tombstone stands there with all of my other fellow classmates. In order for you to know that it is me, my tombstone reads, Molly, 1879-1889, R.I.P. I look forward to you coming and visiting, and if you begin talking to me, you might be able to see me. Don’t be fearful, I am waiting for you and your company. And as always, it would be my pleasure to bring some of my closest acquaintances too.