This happened to me way back in the mid 1990′s. At the time I was already in my forties. I need to go into a bit of detail.
First, I will describe the setting. In Atlanta, there is a main artery called Ponce De Leon Avenue. This runs between Decatur and the north end of downtown. It is a very busy street with lots of traffic. There is on one side of it a sunken garden, with scrub brush and trees growing up the embankment, blocking Ponce from immediate sight. The garden is part of the grounds of a school for epileptic kids. There is a bit of virgin timber-land and more shrubby, scrubby type of growth on the fridges of a formal garden. The garden and a big antebellum house once belonged to a man named Cator Woolford, a philanthropist. The garden and the house etc. are in trust, and the school operates as long as the garden is cared for and no large amount of clearing is done. I will also mention the odd fact that a contemporary of Mr. Woolford, a Miss Emily Harrison, left her land in to a foundation called Fernbank, almost right across the street from this, and there is a large forest which is never to be destroyed or disturbed in any way. If a tree falls across a walk path, the section impeding the path is cut, but the rest left to lie where it is. I have come to believe that I know why these two people made sure to leave their land protected and exactly as it was. Fernbank is a vigil forest – never timbered, by the way.
Now, I will tell you my story. It was a night in late winter or early spring. My ex and I were walking there… he in a sulky sauntering manner – walks have never been his thing. I was ahead and looking a little green things coming up out of the ground. I was some little way ahead of him. I saw a large green light flash out of a little tree. I wondered what made the flash, and thought that the lights from up on Ponce de Leon Ave were shining on something that was catching the light. I went closer to look, and then – hard to believe but true – I forgot all about that light. My attention was caught by something that I saw on the other side of a deep culvert, which ran throughout the garden. I saw the air grow dark and ‘busy’, if you know what I mean. I hope you do, because I have no other way to describe it. It was dark in the garden, but this spot seemed to be crawling with darkness. And, as I looked, this figure just knit itself together out of the darkness. It looked like a classic idea of a troll. I could see it in color: shaggy gray hair, bushy gray eyebrows, a rust colored soft hat of the bowler variety, and a vest to match, a white shirt, wrinkled and too big. I don’t remember the pants or if the figure was shod. It was completely still. Some people have suggested that I saw a garden art gnome. Not the case, I assure you. My reaction was absolute total classic panic. I was so afraid, I took off running, babbling. My ex didn’t see it, he wasn’t near me at the time. He ran with me without question. We were in a dark lonely place in the big city at night. For all he knew I found a corpse, or an axe murderer and a corpse.
I went back the next day. All I can add is that the bush that I saw the thing come out of was a laurel or rhododendron bush.
I swear it was true!
Sent in by Caro, Copyright 2010 TrueGhostTales.com