Only The Wind
Copyright © 2005, The Ladd School.com - Written by The Curator

On our every entry to the Ladd School late at night, there has been a lingering feeling of being watched, or followed, as we carefully make our way in the dark through each of the buildings left standing. To further substantiate our fears, these sensations are invariably accompanied by an ensebmle of sounds seemingly conjured by the cold, dark, damp air that hangs like a low cloud down every barren corridor and empty room. Noises that come from a floor just above or just below us, or from somewhere beyond the mysterious night that relentlessly threatens to swallow us up but for the dewey beams of our flashlights. So strong do the noises come on that there are even times when, for fear of giving away our location, we turn our flashlights off and stand still and silent silent in the dark, listening to the sounds around us for some clue as to their origin.

As I am disinclined, however, to attribue these things to be evident of phantasmagoria, these experiences, by default, must then be attributed to the mundane; a settling foundation, an infestation of rodents, or, as cliche as it may sound, only the wind.

Still, it is haunting the way the ceiling drips at the decrepit hospital, invoking the specter of a doctors heels clicking as he makes his late night rounds.

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