Julia Legare’s Ghost

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JULY 27, 2014

If you know Edisto Island, you most likely know the tale of Julia Legare as well. If not.. I’ll explain a bit. Julia Legare is a folk-tale- or whatever you would like to call it- based on real events. Julia Legare was a fourteen year old girl buried in a Mausoleum with her family members in the 1800s. She was believed to have died from typhus or something. I am too scared to look it up- I apologize! Two years after her burial her body was found to have moved and there were scratches on the wall. She was buried alive. People have tried to close the door to the tomb over the following years and it kept mystically reopening. Upon hearing about this tale when visiting the island, me and my friends decided to investigate. We went to the Old Presbyterian Churchyard and visited her Mausoleum. Of course, being the naive fourteen year old we were, we entered the tomb. We then drove back to our rental house and starting getting ready for dinner, thinking nothing of the occurrence. While I was finishing up straightening my hair, I saw a black haired girl with pale white skin and a white dress walk straight behind me. I was looking in the mirror and only saw her side profile. I turned around and nobody was there. The girl had walked into the closet and I assumed it was my friend playing a joke on me. I looked ans nobody was there. I ran down three flights of stairs as fast as I could and realized everybody was in the car. I asked multiple times who had been upstairs when I was getting ready. Everyone dismissed my questions and told me to forget about it. How could I. I literally saw a girl who looked nothing like my friends – yet tried to convince myself it was one of them- walk into a closet and disappear. The next night the exact same thing happened to my friend. She believed me then. The following night to my friend’s encounter, the same thing happened to my sister. Needless to say none of us slept in that room for the rest of the week- sleeping on mountains of pillows and blankets, ignoring our soreness because it amounts to nothing in the face of what we saw. Of course everyone who had not experienced what we did thought our subconscious were playing tricks on us but we knew. To this day nobody believes me except my sister and my friend, since of course it was indisputable to us what had happened, and quite frankly I do not care if nobody believes me. I am sorry Julia!!

Submitted by Anonymous