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Your True Tales
August 2004
Page 6

Attacked By a Lawn Chair
by Bray

We have a hunting camp up in Georgia. We go there every year around Thanksgiving time. One year, my dad invited a few of his friends and their wives. The house that we stayed in was an old, rundown house built in the 1800s by a widow named Gertrude. Her name is inscribed on the side of the brick steps that lead up to the house. My dad installed running water and electricity to the house.

My uncles would always tell my brother and I, "Don't do nothing bad, 'cause Gert's watchin' you." This was about two years ago, and at the time I was 15, so naturally, my brother and I were all like, "Ya, right, sure, uncle." My brother and I slept in Gerty's house on the only two beds that were in there, and all of my dad's friends slept on lawn chairs (yes, foldable lawn chairs).

Every night, weird things would happen (lights flickering, missing things, wrappers of food left everywhere, etc.), so my brother and I thought it was our uncles messing with us. So, yet again, we continued to belive that ghosts and other paranormal things did not exist, until....

Three nights into the hunting trip, as my brother and I started to fall asleep, we (all 8 of us that were in the house) heard a blood-curdling, deep, loud scream coming from the across the living room (where we all slept). My brother turned on the light switch to find one of my dad's friends being WRAPPED UP in his lawn chair! I mean, the lawn chair was BENDING AROUND his body like Saran Wrap. Then, it looked as if someone pushed him down, and he hit the floor with a loud bang. Needless to say, whatever it was that was kicking his ass, wouldn't let him go. It was as if it were kicking him the whole way that he scrambled to the door way. It took three grown men to unwrap the lawn chair from around his body. Needless to say, he RAN LIKE HELL to his truck, and hauled ass to his home 17 hours away.

For some reason, Gerty did NOT like that man. I mean, she was not a mean spirit at all. She would always help in the kitchen by firing up the stove just minutes before my uncles would go in there and cook. The only problems we had with her was that one night. After that, no more flickering lights, no more missing gear, and no more trash.

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