Good morning darklings.  Today is mostly about an urban legend that scared the crap out of the people in my area and only made me feel pity.  But I will share the three fairly embarrassing things that do scare me and naturally none of them are ghosts, Quija Boards, Tarot cards or Witchcraft. 🙂

When I was younger, I was lucky enough to grow up not to far from where the original Black Aggie once sat.  She has been sent to the Smithsonian and another similar statue has been put in her place.  But the original, that I felt did hold some kind of spirit had become Baltimore’s own urban legend, a part of fraternity tests, dares, a place where the brave, or pretending to be brave would break into to drink beer.  At least until midnight when those fraternity boys who sat on her lap were supposedly crushed in her deathly grip, or the dared to stare into her eyes would go blind or the drinkers would suffer her wrath for defiling her home.

I remember riding in the car with my grandparents to feed the ducks at the lake on the grounds of the cemetery and my grandmother would point and say, “Look, Krista.  That’s where Black Aggie used to be.”  She said it with meaning and a darkened tone that she rarely took.  I wanted to know about her, touch her frozen flesh, speak to her my secrets and learn hers.  I was sad.  I was a very strange little girl.  But in the back of my mind I always wondered about Black Aggie  and midnight.  Once upon a time, did she really stand and move about?  None of us would ever know thanks to break in and vandalism.  Maybe that was when my respect and love of graveyards first began.  Why couldn’t anyone just leave her alone or just pay her the respect the dead deserved, perhaps just appreciate the amazin artwork that formed her?

Then, there was always the chance of calling here through your mirror though you risked death if she actually did appear.  It was basically the same story as Bloody Mary.  Turn off the lights at midnight, say the name 3 times, wait and turn the lights back on.  If it worked, Black Aggie or Bloddy Mary would appear and kill you.  And we’ve all heard about a neighbors cousin who’d done it and been gutted or torn to pieces.  I never put much stock in Bloody Mary, but I thought if Black Aggie were ever to appear she wouldn’t kill me.  She never did and though the other girls laughed their relief, I always felt kind of sad.

What really is sad is the thing that really did scare me.  It was a movie.  Not the whole thing but just how you called the spirit.  I’m sure by now we’ve all seen Candyman.  Turn off the lights, say his name 5 times, turn on the lights and Candyman kills you with that enormous freaking hook for a hand.  I don’t know why it bothers me.  Maybe it’s because he never failed to deliver, maybe it was all the bees, whatever.  But to this day if I walk in a dark room with a mirror, I tell myself, Don’t think about Candyman, Don’t thing about Candyman.  Then I lose count and think, Crap, how many times did I just say Candyman in my head?  Then I get the hell out of the room.

If anyone ever asked me if I had any fears, I’d have to say, clowns, heights, and Candyman. lol

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