Prison Break

The last Thursday of every month is supposed to be my 'break', or my day off, which means that we use the day to go on homeschooler field trips (some break, huh?). This time we traveled to Moundsville, WV to see the Grave Creek Mound (a hill made by native americans that once had a few skeletons buried in it) and the retired WV State Penitentiary, directly across the street.

First, we visited the Mound. Our delightfully androgynous tour guide (whose name is withheld not only out of politeness, but because it has escaped me)

had us walk in the cold rain and wind to the top of the Mound on the uneven, slippery stone path that spirals around the outside of the Mound.

There were several people behind me, and 3/4 of the way up, I had to step aside to suck wind reflect on the beauty of the autumn mist and let the others pass.

Once I had sufficiently stared at the colors of the wind, I continued up the path, and a realization hit me. "Man, I have got to stop walking up hills in front of people!"

At the top of the Mound was the traditional phallic monument so often found where men have "discovered" something everyone else already knew was there.

After a slideshow and pinch-pot making, we were released for lunch in the prison's education building.

As soon as lunch was over, our tour guide, a good-natured middle aged man whose name also escapes me, was gathering everyone in the prison courtyard, out on the rain. Not wanting to carry my purse, our lunch tote, and the coffee mugs through the prison, I ran back to the van to stash those items. Running through the rain made me have to pee, so I ducked back into the education building to use the restroom. When I came back out, the crowd of kids and adults was gone. There were three possible doors they could have gone into, so I approached the newest-looking one with a handicap ramp. In front of that door, the sidewalk was dry. No large crowd of wet sneakers had gone in that door. I walked over to the second door, and it too was dry. The third door was the creepy old prison door and it did have a few wet footprints in front of it, so I opened it. Holding the door open with my shoe, I saw there were some footprints on the old tile floor inside, but not many. I gave it a shot and went through the door. The door shut with a heavy clang, and I was in a dark lobby.

I listened for the sound of a couple dozen rowdy kids tromping through echoing hallways, but heard nothing.

My phone had enough signal for a text, but not a call. I texted Melinda "Where are you guys? This place is creepy!" and got no response.

I found myself walking along dark halls lighted only by the windows of the rooms I passed.

Sometimes it was so dark I used my camera flash to see what was ahead of me.

After many twists and turns, I heard voices up above. I felt tremendous relief and hurried toward the sounds. I came upon a female tour guide with a handful of adults.

I was confused. The guide stopped her presentation and looked at me with her eyebrows up.

"I'm looking for my tour. They are a lot of kids, and a few adults."

"They probably finished already."

"No, they just started. I ran to put stuff in my van, and when I came back, they were gone."

"Ma'am, they probably already wrapped up and went home."

"No... (deep breath)... they just started. A lot of kids. They came in here... somewhere."

"They aren't here. But it's okay; you can just join our tour."

"That's okay, I can keep looking."

"Ma'am, I can't let you just wander around the prison. It's ten acres. You can get lost. There are places even I have never been in, here."

"Thanks, but I need to find my group."

"Ma'am, there are no other tours.... Just follow us and we'll go into the- "

I ran out of the room toward (I hoped) the way I'd come in. I listened hard for the sound of kids in the building, but all I heard was "Ma'am? Ma'am! You can't just wander the premises..." growing fainter down the hall.

I texted Melinda again, "Where the hell ARE you guys?!"

she responded, "We're on the tour! Where are you?!"

I turned down a hall and instead of more cracked plaster, I was greeted by newer painted walls. Hopeful, I kept going, and followed any path that had new-ish paint.

It was not many more minutes before I came through a set of double doors, and saw my group (yes, my group!) approaching from the other side.

Melinda: "Where WERE you?"

"I got lost! And this place is really creepy!"

Later, I looked through my photos and saw a couple creepier-than-most images. If it's late at night, and you're sitting in a dark room alone, it's easier to spot the orbs and shadow people.