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| The Hanged Man |
| Once again, I am sharing things I have experienced much earlier on in my life, some as early as four years old. Many of you were or are under the impression that this may have started with my removing the cross from the tree, but it goes much farther back than that. My Mom and Dad and I were driving down a two lane road when I was about six or seven. We were going to Union City Tennessee to visit some family friends. (This is the same stretch of road as the headless woman incident I wrote about a few posts back.) Anyway, just across the street from the corn field is another filed and next to that was a house that sat WAY off the road and had a rather long driveway. In this large front yard was a tree. "Just Call Me Angel" by Juice Newton was playing on the 8 track and I had already prepared to hide my eyes in case I saw the headless woman again. This time, I was in the back seat of the car, so I felt a bit more safe for some reason. I was peeking over the edge of the door out the driver's side window when I saw us pass the fields. Relieved that I hadn't seen the woman, you can imagine my fear when I saw hanging from the tree in this front yard...a man. I cannot find the words to express how horrific this man's appearance was. He was bloated and discolored. His neck was all cocked to one side and his clothes were torn. His skin was almost a greenish grey color, like he had been hanging there for a long time. There was a clear sheet of plastic, like the plastic sheeting they use on floors when they paint a ceiling, that blew and then caught on his legs and feet. I was transfixed on him just watching and watching as we passed by. Then he started to wriggle like he was struggling with the rope he was hanging from and he raised his head and looked at our car and then we got around a curve and I couldn't see him anymore. Still what I have written here just doesn't do justice to the permanent inscription of horror I have in my head. I started crying and buried my head into the back seat, singing silently to myself while we made the rest of the drive to our friend's house. I told my mom about the man in the tree that night as I went to bed and she was tucking me in. She told me I must have imagined it or someone was joking. I saw the man in the tree a few more times after that, but haven't seen him in years now. I can't drive that road without looking into that yard and remembering what I saw there so long ago. Even as an adult, I still have nightmares about that stretch of road. I haven't a clue what is so significant about it.... |