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*This story is about a fourteen year old who hates her birthday because it’s always with the same people and its always the same routine. Hope you like it*
I have always hated family gatherings. I hate my birthday most of all. Year in, year out, it’s always the same. Everybody goes through the…
Creepypasta #1061: Jenny
Length: Long
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I work in a school that is over a hundred years old. We nicknamed it the Frankenschool because every time they built an addition it was like they slapped a brick box against a wall. The original school was in the centre and the additions enveloped around it. Some rooms are taller than others, some have curved walls, and some have windows that lead to nowhere. Think the Winchester mystery house only in school form.
My room was in the newest addition, which was built in 1976. It was a large, bright room that had great airflow which is important when it’s June and you are stuck in a solid brick building that is just collecting heat.
I was with the littlest kids, the babies of the school. The ones on their own for the first time. Usually they were a sweet bunch. A few nightmares here and there but, for the most part great kids from a small community.
The kids always joked that our room had a ghost. They named her Jenny. She was a nice ghost and whenever toys or crayons would go missing they would always blame Jenny. When they played in the house area, Jenny was always their mom. They would pretend to make cookies for Jenny, they would set the table for an extra spot for her. One day a group came over and told me it was Jenny’s birthday. I made a birthday crown for her and we made a pretend cake out of play-doh and sung her Happy Birthday. Jenny was loved by all the kids.
After my first year in my room, I assumed that Jenny would be a thing of the past. The imaginary friend would become a fond kindergarten memory for my former students. That she was just something that group made up as a game.
The next October after a few weeks of getting to know my new group of little ones, they tell me about their new friend, Jenny. The cycle began again and it never went away. Every year the new kids tell me all about Jenny. They adore this imaginary girl. I’ve come to accept that Jenny is just part of our room.
So you might be wondering why I’m sharing this story here. It’s just a cute kindergarten tale of an imaginary girl. That’s what I thought until today. Today our school celebrated its 125th anniversary. We had a huge open house and invited the community in. We had a BBQ, the local museum came and shared archived photos, and we gave an award to the oldest living alumni, a 94 years old who started at the school in 1928 when he was 6. His name was Earl and to be honest, he was more than half dead. He sat slumped in his chair, slept most of the time and his family said he was lost in a sea of dementia.
Staff members were asked to stay in our rooms and allow visitors to tour our rooms and ask questions. The day was going great. I saw lots of old students. Some were even starting college! My, how my babies have grown! The funny thing is that every former student asked about Jenny. I was surprised that they still remembered her. A small group of former students gathered in the house centre, all different ages and shared their favourite Jenny memories. It was a sweet moment.
Later in the day a woman in her early 60’s came into my room. She walked around with amazement and awe. She told me that this used to be her room in the 80’s. She loved working with the little kids so much and she even pointed out little features in the room like the chunk missing from one of the cubbies was when a little boy brought a little saw for show and tell and he wanted to show his friends how it worked and he sawed a chunk out of his cubby. Or the paint marks on my old worn out desk were from when the kids painted a bunch of boxes for the spring play. We shared a bunch of laughs and then she looked at me with a twinkle in her eye.
“Is Jenny still here?” she asked.
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These aren’t Wax Figures.
These are actual bodies at their funerals. By the family’s or person’s request, the decease can have a funeral the resembles their life. It’s not popular but many people already making arrangements for their funeral to be like this. It’s a way to capture the life they once had.
you can check out more images by clicking on the source.
The man pictured above is legendary blues singer, Robert Johnson. Although his life was poorly documented and was cut short at the age of 27, Johnson was considered one of the masters of Delta Blues. His fame didn’t come after his in a 1967, but like most blues musicians, many notable musicians like Eric Clapton, were influenced by the music of Robert Johnson which dubbed him the title of “king of the delta blues”
However, many people do not know how Robert Johnson got his title.
According to Son House, another founding father of the delta blues, he knew Johnson when he moved to Mississippi to visit his musical partner, Willie Brown. He remembers Johnson as a teenager who could play the harmonica well but was terrible at the guitar.
Robert tried hard to practice the guitar but he just wasn’t good enough. Around 1929 to 1931, Robert left his hometown of Robinsonville in search for his father, instead he met someone that was gonna change his life. He heard A man play the guitar beautifully and he wanted to learn his craft. Johnson asked the man if he could teach him how to play guitar. The man told him that he didn’t learn to play the guitar, he acquired the skills “supernaturally”. He told him to go down to the crossroads at 12 at night. There, he will meet someone who will give him the talent he needs to play the guitar.
When he got there, he realized it was the same man who he heard playing the guitar. The man told Robert that he was The devil and he can fix Johnson’s guitar troubles if he sold his soul. Robert was worried at first but he was desperate to become a blues singer. He agreed to sell his soul in order to accomplish his dreams. The devil gave him a guitar and told him to play something. Robert, who couldn’t even strum a chord without breaking it, was now playing the blues.
When he came back to his Robinsonville, He was the talk of the town. People who use run from him, gathered around to hear him play. Club owners who threw him out were begging him to preform at their clubs.
I found out that my snapchat filter works on my cat and it makes her look like a demon.
That’s some sixpenceee shit.
William had a dream of bringing electricity and running water to his village. And he was not prepared to wait for politicians or aid groups to do it for him. The need for action was even greater in 2002 following one of Malawi’s worst droughts, which killed thousands of people and left his family on the brink of starvation.
Unable to attend school, he kept up his education by using a local library. Fascinated by science, his life changed one day when he picked up a tattered textbook and saw a picture of a windmill. Mr Kamkwamba told the BBC News website: “I was very interested when I saw the windmill could make electricity and pump water.
“I thought: ‘That could be a defense against hunger. Maybe I should build one for myself’.” When not helping his family farm maize, he plugged away at his prototype, working by the light of a paraffin lamp in the evenings. But his ingenious project met blank looks in his community of about 200 people.
“Many, including my mother, thought I was going crazy,” he recalls. “They had never seen a windmill before.” [x]
In 2014, William Kamkwamba received his 4 year degree at Dartmouth College in Hanover, New Hampshire where he was a student.
(Fact Source) For more facts, follow Ultrafacts
The power of books
That’s so cool! What a blessing he must be.
La Corriveau
Marie-Josephte Corriveau was born in 1733 in Saint-Villier, a small town in what is now Quebec. Marie married young, wedding a farmer named Charles Bouchard at the age of sixteen. The couple had two daughters and a son before Charles died under mysterious cirumstances. Marie was known to be a beautiful woman but was very jealous. Marie’s second husband was a doctor who had a lot of female clients and suspected that he was cheating on her with one of them. One night, Marie gave her husband poisoned her husbands food. The coroner concluded that the doctors death was accidental due to her claiming that she unknowingly poisoned her husband. According to the legends, Marie Corriveau may have had as many as seven husbands and all of them died under Mysterious circumstances. Her last husband lead to her demise. Marie remarried, to a man named Louis Etienne Dodier. The marriage was not a happy one, and both Marie and her father Joseph Corriveau were known to be on bad terms with Dodier. it was rumored that dodier was killed by one of his horses and people began to grow suspicious after she didn’t grieve as much widow would.
In 1763, the British took official possession of France’s North American territories, they were eager to make an impression on the local colonists as a force for order, so they decided to hold an inquiry into the death. The inquiry opened on March 29th, around two months after Dodier’s death, at the Uruline convent in Quebec City. The inquiry took 11 days, with most of the Corriveau’s neighbours testifying, and at the end of it they decided that Joseph Corriveau had murdered Louis Dodier, that Marie had been an accessory, and that Isabelle Sylvain (a cousin of Marie’s) had perjured herself to protect them. With the force of martial law behind them, they immediately passed a sentence of death on Joseph, while Marie and Isabel were sentenced to be whipped and branded.
The story did not end there, however. Before the sentence of death was due to be carried out, Joseph made a confession to his priest that his daughter Marie had actually been the one to kill Dodier, and he had simply helped her. Whether it was Joseph or his confessor who passed this on to the authorities, they decided to hold a retrial. At this Marie pleaded guilty to the charge of murdering her husband. Her father and her cousin were both released without charge (her father receiving an official royal pardon), but Marie was sentenced not just to death, but to death and exposure. Because by the laws of England Marie was not just guilty of murder, but of the more serious charge of Petty Treason.
Marie lived on in legend, however. Stories soon started that she was a witch. Like all witches, she vowed that the grave would not hold her, and her corpse did not rest easy in the cage at the crossroads. According to the legend, her last words were “I shall be avenged!” Rather than standing for two months and then getting a Christian burial, instead she was said to have hung at the crossroads for years before disappearing, claimed by the devil himself. people said that anytime they walked on the crossroad, it would feel as though her corpse would follow their movement. Some even claimed that her corpse would “hug” them. Other stories had her ghost float around, still bound within the cage, clinging to the backs of lone travellers and demanding that they carry her across the Saint Lawrence river.
This local folklore received a major boost in 1849. The cage was exhibited in Montreal and New York, awakening interest in the local tales that had sprung up over the previous century.
The motif of La Corriveau in her cage continued to drift through Quebec’s culture, inspiring novels, ballets, painting and music. Even to this day she is referenced, such as in the song “La corrida de la Corriveau” by Mes Aïeux, released in 2001. The cage stolen from the church in Lévis was considered lost – legend had it in “Barnum’s Boston Museum”, with a placard simply reading “From Quebec”, though Barnum had never had a museum in Boston, and no such exhibit could be found in the city. It was assumed it had been lost in a fire, until 2011. That year the Lévis Historical Society discovered it exactly where you would expect to find the cage of a legendary witch – Salem, Massachusetts. The Peabody Essex museum, which had been storing the cage in a back room, loaned it to the city of Lévis for two years, and it remains there today.
The man in the picture is Edward McCurdy, an American bank and train robber in the late part of the 19th centurty. In October of 1911, after a failed robbery, three sheriffs along with some bloodhounds tracked down McCurdy and surrounded him at one of his hideouts. McCurdy died of a single gunshot wound.
But his story doesn’t end there.
His body was taken to a funeral home where it wasn’t claimed. The owner and undertaker, Joseph L. Johnson, Embalmed the body with an arsenic-based perservative, which helps preserve the body longer, shaved and dressed him up in street clothes. since no one claimed the body yet. Mr. Johnson decided to make a attraction out of McCurdy’s body. For a nickel, Johnson allowed visitors to see McCurdy’s body calling it the “bandit that wouldn’t give up!” It was a popular attraction at the funeral home. Johnson even received offers to sell McCurdy’s mummified body but he refused.
Five years after McCurdy’s death. Two men claiming to be McCurdy’s long lost brother. Came to the funeral home to claim their brother’s body and give it a proper burial. John released the body to the men. However these men weren’t McCurdy’s long lost brothers they were in fact 2 carnival owners by the names of James and Charles Patterson. They used the corpse as an attraction called “The Outlaw Who Would Never Be Captured Alive”.
The corpse was used in various carnivals between 1916 and 1949 until it ended up in a Los Angeles warehouse because the previous owner, Louis Sonney, died. In 1964, Sonney’s Son, Dan lent the corpse to B-list film maker, David F. Friedman and McCurdy made a brief appearance in the 1967 film, She freak.
It wasn’t until 1976 when a production crew of the television show Six Million Dollar Man were filming some scenes for the episode “Carnival of Spies” and need to move some props around. A prop man saw McCurdy’s Corpse hanging from the gallows and tried to move it thinking it was a wax mannequin. when the the mannequins arm broke of a Human bone and muscle tissue were visible.
McCurdy’s 60 year journey came to an end in 1977. He had a funeral with over 300 people in attendence.
Hey
I was gonna answer the riddles I posted on Saturday but because of the lack of notes I will be post the answers to the riddles next Tuesday. Also I will be posting new stories tonight at 8 pm so be on the lookout.
Hey guys! I'm back from the dead!!
Just kidding! I took a year long hiatus but I'm back with new riddles, new ghost stories, and new haunted locations! I've already posted some on Saturday so you should go check them out. Also, I'll be posting regularly every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday so be on the look out if your into scary stuff!
Thank god for cell phones
Thank god for cell phones is a scary riddle about a women who notices a pregnant women going through some pains.
In the evening, I decided to go for a brisk walk. On the way I saw a pregnant woman who was clutching her belly and seemed to be doubled over in pain. I rushed over to her asking if she was okay but she didn’t reply.
“what’s wrong?” I asked again. Still no reply.
I thought she must be in a lot of pain, so I took out my cell phone.
“don’t worry,” I said “”I’m going to call an ambulance for you.”
all of a sudden, the women opened her mouth and asked if there was a police station near by.
“there’s a station just around the corner,” I told her, pointing in that direction.
Then, she stood upright, thanked me and calmly walked off in the opposite direction.
I looked at my cell and all of a sudden, I understood what was going on. I ran all the way home as fast as I could.
Even now, I get vivid nightmares about that day. I wonder what would have happen if I didn’t have my phone with me.
In November of 2012, award-winning Photographer Sara Naomi Lewkowicz documented a series called, “Photographer as Witness: A portrait of domestic violence.” A photo-series about the story of Maggie who was a victim of a violent attack by her ex-boyfriend Shane.
-Check out the link above if you want to view more photos and also see how Maggie's life is now.
The test.
The test is another riddle about a girls who takes a test. This is one is simple, if you don’t have the answer to it, be sure to check back on Tuesday for the results.
Jason was a disruptive boy in class. He hardly every came to class and when he did, he would cause a riot.
One day, the his teacher had enough and told him to stay after class. He told Jason that if he was failing and he could only pass this class if he took a special test after school. Jason then stayed after school and came back to his class. The teacher was sitting at his desk when Jason came in. When He looked around there was the test sitting on a desk. It looked like a easy test.
Q1: What’s in pipe but not in pope?
Q2: What’s in wait but not in fate?
Q3: What’s in right but not in ground?
Q4: What’s in flight but not in sight?
Q5: What’s in late but not in bait?
Q6: What’s in knight but not in night?
Q7: What’s in paint but not in pentacles?
Q8: What’s in learn but not in yearn?
Q9: What’s in Slave but not in shave?
Q10: What’s in yes but not in no?
Q11: what’s oval but not in circle?
Q12: what in blunder but in blonder?
When Jason was done he let out a scream. A week later the teacher was arrested. Why?
be sure to message me you answers. If you couldn’t understand, the watch out for Tuesday!
Until then, hit the notification button on my blog and make sure to follow the w1tch1ng-h0ur for all things horror.
“I Wish You Were Dead.”
Here’s a riddle about a boy who claims he can easily kill someone simply by wishing them dead. I will give the answer out on Tuesday.
Have you ever hated someone so much that you wished something bad can happened to them?...Something as terrible as death? I think we’ve all had that one moment in our lives were we wished death upon someone who wronged us. But what if your wish became reality?
It all started in kindergarten when this kid stole all my animal crackers. I was so mad at him. The next day, he did not show up for school. The day after that, the teacher told us later on that day that the boy suffered an asthma attack the other night and died in the hospital that morning.
In 3rd grade, we were learning long division and I got two questions wrong. Sister Margret grew so upset with me that she beat me with a ruler until my back turned blue. The kids in the classroom teased me about it the whole day and I was so angry with the nun and I thought I couldn’t do anything about it. The next day, the principal came in and told us that she had died of a heart attack last night.
In middle school, my parents moved an hour away from our old town and I went to school in a rural area. I made a couple of friends there but I was also getting bullied by a few kids as well. I hated them so much for it, hoping that they could feel the same pain I felt. Within the following three weeks, all of them died one by one. That is when it dawn on me. Anytime I got angry with someone, they died soon after.
It sounded great at first but then I started to make sure not to get mad at anyone again. I was an obedient student and child. I hardly every got into an disagreement with my friends. I tried really hard not to wish the worse for them. But nothing seemed to work.
After the funeral of my last friend, I couldn’t sleep nor eat. I finally gathered up the courage to tell my mother what happened. I told her that I think I can kill people with my mind and that I couldn’t control it. She told me that she knows that I didn’t mean to do it and that I was a good boy. She told me that she knew I couldn’t harm anyone especially my own parents.
That comforted me. I went to sleep peacefully that night. It was the first time in two weeks that I slept comfortably.
The next morning, However, was strangely quiet. I couldn’t smell pancakes nor hear the morning news. I got up and peeped into my parents bedroom and came across a horrifying site...
My parents were lying there...dead.
Make sure your inbox me your answers to this riddle and I’ll be sure to give you the right answer on Tuesday!
Is the answer cannibalism?
can’t answer that...
I'm guessing that's slender man too bec TALL BUSINESS MAN. O.O
can’t answer that...
With the Brian twisters,I know the answer to number one I think. He probliably killed his friend and used him for the autopsy
he was the project yes.
