The Girl in the Blue Dress
When he was eight, my father and his parents were trying to find a place to live here in Mississippi. They came upon a large house that looked just like what they were looking for. But the mother pointed toward the window below the roof. There stood a small girl in a blue dress crying and looking down at them. "Well, someone already lives here," my grandmother sighed. "Guess we'll have to keep looking."
The family found a place to live, and my dad enrolled in the school there. When he was in third grade, his teacher announced that they were going to take a field trip to one of the most historic buildings in the area. My dad told her and the class that someone lived in that house. "Why, that's impossible, Ricky," the teacher said. "No one has lived in that house for nearly three hundred years."
When they arrived, my dad went to the exact window where he had seen the little girl. There was no trace that anyone had ever lived there for quite a long time. In the basement, there were chains attached to the walls and prison cells lining the opposite wall. The teacher explained that this house was once a prison, where slaves were tortured. She said that even children were killed during that time.