Nicolas Street Jail, Ottawa, Canada
Now, let me tell you a story.
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The old building is imposing, massive and fearful, built in 1862 as a jail and gallows for criminals; today the creepiness remains- turned into a hostel, one hundred and fifty graves were found on the grounds; and upper death row cells can be rented for a night. There are creaking doors and heavy footsteps heard, wailing and weeping and praying all the night long; on a dare- I rented a top floor cell with black bars, I was told the daunting gallows remain not far away; and went to my bunk, not really believing the stories. I was found in the morning crumpled and weeping, talking hysterically about being hanged by decomposed men; the mental hospital is not much better than that jail was, where ghosts hang me every single night in the gallows; now dear, it is just a dream but I am terrified to go to sleep. _________________________________________ September 30, 2020 Poetry/Narrative/The Old Jail Copyright Protected, ID 20-1290-558-03 All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France Written for the contest, "The Unexplained" sponsor, Carolyn Devonshire First Place
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