Ghost Stores & Urban Legends: Jump Jack

The dull sound of buzzing from electricity from the over head neon lights echoed in the long corridor with its grey limo floor and white tiled walls, clinical and cold. The far end light flickering on and off with a click, an invisible switch in its darkness making the corridor seen longer and endless.

The right hand wall of doors all closed on, making the narrow walkway feel claustrophobic. A sudden sharp bang making her jump in her skin, breathless and heart racing, looking behind her, it was the door slamming behind her friends the three of them stood there loping in to the uncertain night.

The rain on the small window behind them sounding like scratching finger nails down pebble destroyed glass.

“Its a load of bull”

“Whys that?”

“Just because it is the 13th stall dose not mean that it is haunted.”

“By the Jumping Jack!”

She looked at her friends standing the right of her.

“I can’t believe that you dragged us back down here after all these years, just to take part in a Junior school Urban Legend trial”

“There going to be tearing the place down next week, so whats the harm, Its just a bit of fun. And like you said It just an urban legend.” pulling her camera out of her bag ready to film.

“And it’ll make a good  footage for my sight.”

The three of them began to walk down to the end of the room. The squeaking of their shoes on the lino floor, parts ripped up exposing the dusty concert floor beneath. 

The three of them stood looking at the closed door of the 13th stool The faint writing of ‘Do Not Enter” in a childish hand could just be seen on grimy once white door. 

The cold damp air of five years of neglect could be felt in the air. with every breath they could taste the stale, damp, dust, filled air, the metallic smell of mild sat on every surface.

“So how does this legend go again?”

“You go in the stall and you turn around 3 times and say ‘Jump Jake Jump’ there times.”

Looking back down the row of cubicles she tried to remember her time in the school, all she could remember were the childhood charts, games and pranks. and torment of younger students of the Jumping jack.

“Well here we go.” smiling and waving at the camera as she entered and stall. closing the door behind her, the lock broken off years before.

With a deep breath she began the ritual, on each turn she repeated “Jump Jack Jump”. On the third completed turn she stood silent, waiting. 

the light over head flickered faster the sound grew load, high pitched and painful. Then suddenly… silence. The light goes off for its final time. The Lights from further down the corridor struggling to reach the end.

she felt her heart racing with every quick breath she took.

“Dan? You OK?” the camera fixed on the door.

“Yeah, I’m good” 

Suddenly the air got cold like as thought some one had opened a freeze door beside them. cold enough to tune their breath to vapour, and send a uneasy shiver though the girls bodes.

Dannielle stood in in silence in the dark. As she reached to open the door a thin icy layer grew rapidly over the door, the fame and the wall. Her friends watched as the Ice crystals grow, charting its icy map over the door and wall.

Unable to mover Dannielle stood frozen to the spot, not wanting to look at anything but the back of the door. The warm breath of something beside her brushed her cheek, making her shudder. 

Before she could look Its long arms wrapped around her, its hand covering her mouth preventing her from screaming as it lifted her from the ground.

Kick out her feet fit the door,  pushing it open, Her friends screamed as they watched her been dragged through the wall, Unbroken.

© sarah jane patel

Oranges & Lemons

“Oranges and lemons" say the Bells of St. Clement's
“You owe me five farthings" say the Bells of St. Martin's
“When will you pay me?" say the Bells of Old Bailey
“When I grow rich" say the Bells of Shoreditch

The slow echoing chanting of children's voices.
Slow echoing chant quite in the early night illuminated by the moon darkness that she brings upon the world.
Strange moving shadows, cast by the low lifeless fog that sits on the ground.
moving slowly as if it were covering a bed of serpents.
The light rustling of the remanding leaves that cling tightly to the dead limbs of the trees.

"When will that be?" say the Bells of Stepney
"I do not know" say the Great Bells of Bow

The low mist parts with each step that you take on the damp ground, through the forgotten abandoned playground.
Over shadowed by the back silhouettes of the church.
Spinning around on your heels. The sound of a laughing child. Yet nothing  is there.
The squeaking of the swings un oiled rusted chains move back and forth with its phantom rider, or so you hope.
The laughter again and this time to the round about you turn your gaze. It turns slowly and then stops. Again the laughter. But this time a grey figure runs past the gate heading towards the church and out of sight.
Curiously and reluctantly you walk towards the gate. Its black steel skellington, cold and ruff to the touch from rust.
Pushing the heavy gate open it screams painfully from years of neglect.
Looking to the church tower, the moon hanging low and full behind, in the pitch black blue sky. 
Clouds of dark black grey lay upon its darkness with shimmering  stars spread thick and far like spilt glitter pots.
Your eyes play tricks on you in the night creating something hat is not there.
Tomb stones of the long forgotten line the path of lose pebble stones crackling beneath your feet.
A weeping angle lies over a grave with wings and teas spread over the concrete incased corps.
Strange shadows full along the path from crosses and standing angle figures marking the dead.

"Oranges and lemons" say the Bells of St. Clement's

A whisper on the wind sends a cold shiver through your body.
hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
 the tingling feeling of goose bumps cover your body… 
And the feeling of someone watching. 
The nose of rustling leaves upon the ground and as you look to you feet the fog moves and forward as thought someone stands behind you.
Your hear races faced and faster. 
fear.
The cold feeling of a breathe on you neck. 

Do you dear look behind…


© sarah jane patel 2014

Sweeney Todd The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

(The Story behind) 

Sweeney Todd

The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

There are not many people, that have not heard of  the story of Sweeny Todd the barber and his lovely sidekick Mrs. Lovett and her pie shop.(made popular by Tim Burton, Johnny Depp and  Helana Bonham Carter in 2007)

I can remember the first time I heard the store. It was from my uncles farther and he told us about his childhood in London before the second world war, his dad worked in a shop off of fleet street and and that when ever he and his brothers and  sisters, on him and his friends went to see him they had to walk down fleet street past first a pie shop then a barbers. When they got to each shop they would run as fast as they could past them so they would not get court by Mr. Todd or Mrs. Lovett.

There is some truth behind the barber and his cleverly hinged chair. His name was not Todd it was Jarman and he and his wife owned the Ostrich Inn in the village  of Colnebrook. Just up the road form where Heathrow airport is.
When a suitable guest presented him or herself at the Inn Jarman would show the guest to the ‘best room’ in the house and leave them a flagon of ale and a keg of ale or rum. Late that night he would slip into the room where the unsuspected guest had passed out from enjoying there nightcap. A sharp knife across the throat to make sure that once he pulled the lever for the bed to tip and send them throw a trap door and plunging into a huge cauldron  of boiling water in the kitchen below. Where they were then cooked up and served to unsuspecting customers.

When they were finally court due to not cleaning up after one guest, and the house that one guest, who had become a regular visitor, was still there after his master was have ment to have left. The local police found that at least 60 guest had left the hotel with out paying their bill,  all of which believed to have fallen victim to Jarman and his wife.

Ghost Stories And Urban Legends

I can definitely say I was brought up on my fair shear of ghost story’s and urban legends from my area where I grow up, from the jumping jack that haunted my primary school girls toilet the ghosts that walked the stage at my local theatre to the witches at Canewdon church.

Canewdon church.
Canewdon has got to the best and most well known story of the area. The village was believed to be the centre of witchcraft, (it's said there is as many witches in silk as in cotton) and there are many legends surrounding the church of St Nicholas which stands on Beacon hill, Canewdon, 

• While the church tower stands, there will always remain 6 witches
• If you walk around the church 7 times backwards/ anticlockwise on Halloween the witch’s will appear
• walk around the church 13 times backwards/ anticlockwise you will disappear
• Or walk around it 3 times  backwards/ anticlockwise and you will open up hell.

These stories have made the village a popular destination on Halloween. Resting in the police being known to seal off the village to all non-residents.
(The first Halloween of me having my drivers licence myself and a group of friends headed down there we parked the car and walked to the church. we were greeted less than 100 yards from the church by police, turned around and told to go home.)

The idea of something magical can happen from running around a church is probably an exaggeration of what scared locals saw the witch master and his nymphs doing “waling in circle” as it is known in paganism.

Old Leigh
Many coastal settlements have stories of witches, ghost and other strange happenings, and leigh-on-sea is no different.
The sea witch of old Leigh, Sarah Moore. she is known as a hare lipped bitter old woman. who was taunted by people's name calling and finger pointing. it was believed that any one who had a child born with a hare lip, was said to have been cursed by her, for there misdeeds.
in the mid 90s the pub  “the Sarah Moore” opened its doors  in Elm road Leigh, there were reports of panorama activity with lights flickering when her name was mentioned  and  broken bottles, and glasses, found on opening the pub each morning.

Leigh road, witch ducking pond
In Leigh road on the sight of Riley’s bowling ally opposite the Brookers pub. there used to be a pond also known as doom pond that is meant to have been used to trill witches by water. apparently if you are walking past this piece of land your meant to hear the cries of the indecent women  who drowned and The land was said to be cursed by the women found guilty of witchcraft.
Up until the 90s nothing was built on the land, due to constant flooding of the basement and subsidence of any thing built there due to the underground spring.

Belfairs woods
Belfairs woods, is  approximately 200 acres of woods, nature reserves‘, fields and golf course, I have many child hood memories of playing in the woods and park, as well as climbing over the school fence at the end of a school day.
The stables off of Eastwood Road North. are also meant to be haunted by a a servant boy who lived in the loft of the stables. and was unfortunately killed after being pushed out of the hay loft. All the kids that spent their weekends and after school time therein the 70s were always told not to go up in to the hayloft on a certain day as it was believed that the ghost of the boy would push you out. For one lucky but un lucky girl how did ended falling from the loft escaping with a broken collarbone, said she as if someone had pushed her. Haunted or was it just the power of surjection.
Another ghost store linked to Belfairs woods is that of a stage coach that was over turned in the woods and all were killed including the horses. on a full moon you are meant to hear the sound of horses galloping and the sound of chains and wood being dragged  across the ground.

The Cliffs Pavilion theater
The cliffs pavilion theater in Southend-on-sea opened in 1964, yet work began on the foundation of the building in the 1930s, but with the outbreak of second world war the work came to a halt. during the war the cliffs and sea front area was closed off to the public and it was believed that the army had built a maze of tunnels and bunkers with in the cliffs. the sight remained boarded up until 1959 when the sight was demolished the work began on the building that stands there today.

There are two ghost stories that I know of regarding the existence of these tunnels one of them is of the “Ratman tunnels” the story goes that a tramp lived in theses tunnels  and that some kids beat him up and left him to die, and that now his ghost appears there at night, looking like a giant, deformed rodent.
The store of these tunnels goes that that lead in to the Cliffs Pavilion basement, trust me on this one they don’t, I’ve been down in to that basement on a daily bases when working there, the only thing down there is a lot of broken lamps and a lift,
The other story which is popular with the theatre is of a WW2 Connell that appears at night and often seen outside the Marine bar  on the lower ground. and has apparently been seen in box G in the auditorium.

Palace theater
The other theatre in Southend is the Palace theatre situated on the London road built in the 1900s it opened its doors in 1912 as is supposedly haunted by the theatre's first technical manager George who hung himself  on the fly floor not long after the theatre opened. His ghostly figure has been seen all over the building.
There are also meant to be a lady in grey whom is known to sit and watch the show form the upper circle. 
I follow spotted many shows from the  upper circle, on my own, with another member of staff and with and with out an audience and I have to say if she is there she is very shy and only watches shows when she can have the circle to her self.