Book Condition: New. The thing that froze me, though, was the eye. "This was probably as close as we are going to get, man," I said. "Of course, Jack. I don't even know. I made up and spread stories about haunted pizza parlors in New York, my "cousin's" encounter with the Jersey Devil, or how my "grandfather" encountered a feral, human-like demon creature in the woods of Colorado. Mr. Mays' friend was adamant that his grandparents would take them in and feed them without a moment of hesitation. "Steve, god dammit, open the fucking wooden door." Mr. Mays let the whole class know that he was going to tell us as much as he deemed appropriate about the experience. "I'm gonna go grab the camera really quick," he said as he bolted out the entrance of the building. A YouTuber named Mr. Creepy Pasta read it back in 2012 and I fell in love with the story. I mean, we could still tell people that we found it." ", He got almost cartoonish with his sadness in the next several seconds. Put on your socks and shoes--and don't forget your ears! I moved through the brush until I was roughly twenty feet from the entrance, at which point all of the growth seem to stop. The legend didn't extend outside the classroom of Mr. Mays. But now, I cared; he was a real person to me, not just an idol anymore. I made it back to the car, and we drove out of there like a bat out of hell." He began his story immediately after the class had calmed down. https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/The_Showers?oldid=1195760. "Steve, just do it please. I wasn't entirely sure how far we were from the nearest home or small town, but there wasn't even the slightest bit of evidence that anyone had been in this building for years. There was no way this was real. It's getting late and I'm getting another drink. It had been several hours before I even brought up his story about "The Showers". "You know when you turn off a light," he told the class, "and everything is almost pitch-black, except the light of the bulb dying out or cooling down? But, it's out there now, for people to mold and warp to their needs. After the class had thinned a bit, Mr. Mays continued with the story. We spent another day in Broken Bow before we took our next trip out to try to find The Showers. "I mean, if I had to live in a place associated with an urban legend or something like that, I would totally mess with anyone who asked about it," he said. Best Baby Shower Books. This, again, is in hindsight. The only person who seemed to know anything about it was an older lady that worked at a gas station on the outskirts of town. "Steve, this is not the fucking time. 181 Followers. There are no discussion topics on this book yet. I could smell some strong whiskey on his breath, and his cheeks were flushed. That was definitely terrifying, but that wasn't the scariest thing.". It moved slightly, creaked a little bit, but there was no way I was doing this by myself. He turned to the group, the rest of which were nervous at the very least, and attempted to lighten the mood with a laugh before he said, "I should probably knock first.". Both of us were thinking about what the lady had said. The bulb of the flashlight faded as it cooled and I put it into my pocket, simultaneously pushing back against the cold cement wall in an attempt to stand. Buy The Kerdi Shower Book now. Shower System-Rainfall Shower Faucet Set with 7-Settings Handheld Shower and High Pressure Shower Head, Contain Rough in Valve and Trim Kit, Brushed Nickel 4.6 out of 5 stars 191 $169.99 $ 169 . Steve nodded, telling me to hang in there and that he would be back in a little bit, and then he ran off. 4. Surely, if there was ever a silo near this place, there would be some evidence of it somewhere. I drink a lot, but I am still functional. We talked for a solid twenty minutes. Others are modern classics. Refresh and try again. The group was no longer concerned with finding the owners of the property, but was now set on finding the source of that smell. The halls were windy and seemed to go on forever; Mr. Mays guessed that they were somewhere under the creepy forest they had driven through when they found a door, but he couldn't be sure. It wasn't a long fall, but I must have fallen in a terrible position because I know that I lost consciousness for several seconds at least. His words were almost incoherent, at least to my ears. I didn't even give the announcement a second thought. Read 22 reviews from the world's largest community for readers. I even broke the one rule with these stories by putting myself in them; this took guts, in hindsight, because I had to make sure that I always told them the same way. I stomped one more time, realizing that the floor that I was standing on was covering something hollow. It had a nice design, seemed to be freshly painted red, and had a very nice knob and knocker on it. "You died in Nebraska, Jack? Saved by Shavonn DeBoer. Mr. Mays sat at his desk, just watching the students come into class and take their seats. Take your favorite fandoms with you and never miss a beat. I ignored the pain in my knee and shuffled along the wall as fast as I possibly could. His whole group was paralyzed with fear for several seconds, when they heard what sounded like an animal in the distance yelping. Mr. Mays winked at me as if to say, "don't tell anyone about the drugs bit, kid," and I smiled and left. I could only make out one eye, brightly reflecting the light of my flashlight. Every area in all parts of the world has those area-specific urban legends that just refuse to die. Mays?" I can't be entirely sure what it was, but I heard the accompanying sounds of feet scraping against the floor and I began to swell with dread. Find the Top Books For Baby Showers with the MSN Buying Guides >> Compare Products and Brands by Quality, Popularity and Pricing >> Updated 2021 Please, wake up," he screamed. I had lived near Littleton, Colorado when I was younger and remembered loving the area, so this destination was as good as any. Just feast your eyes upon all of these debut books to check out and emerging authors to... To see what your friends thought of this book, Absolutely great modern and intelligently made horror story. Anyway, we left Colorado and made the long, boring, and barren drive to Broken Bow, Nebraska, or "Hell on Earth" as Mr. Mays had put it. His friends grabbed the injured one and lifted him out of the room and into the hallway in an instant. I sat there, waiting for Steve in this underground basement, and I began to feel uneasy. I couldn't risk sliding against that and possibly cutting myself on the metal, or hitting the wood and causing a cave-in. Every time I had spoken to Mr. Mays previously, I had been in the student/teacher relationship; but now, I was just a guy having a drink with a friend at the bar. They took a truck, loaded it with camping gear, and set out to sight-see for the entire summer. I slammed my eyes shut and screamed with every ounce of energy I had, "Open the fucking do-" The door behind me gave way, and I fell onto the dirt, taking in a breath of fresh air. "Thank fuck, man. My stomach must have been on the verge of falling out of me at this point, because it shifted again. "That was all a long time ago." I clumsily rose and busted through the door, narrowly missing a piece of hanging sheet metal in front of me. The party itself was very low-key, and ultimately inconsequential to this story; however, the important thing about it was that at some point in the night, we were all sitting around the fire and swapping ghost stories. Wow, you do know how to fuck up." The door was made of wood; I knew this because I could see light through them. I decided that the best course of action at this point was to turn off my flashlight, assuming that if they couldn't see me, they couldn't get to me, whatever "they" might be. I turned it on and pointed it into the darkness where I was just lying. I didn't realize it at the time, but the little bits of light that managed to penetrate the canopy in this miniature forest actually did make it look as if the tree branches were trying to grab the car, just like Mr. Mays had mentioned in the story. A YouTuber named Mr. Creepy Pasta read it back in 2012 and I fell in love with the story. I could hear the faint sound of Steve running through the brush and to the car, but once he was far enough away, everything was quiet. Surprisingly, no one ever called my bluff. Here are a few ideas of the kinds of messages you can write in a baby shower book: I was changed by my experience, yeah. Because of the events that followed, my memory of one teacher in particular is probably slightly skewed, but I will attempt to give the least biased version of our friendship that I can. The Kerdi® shower waterproofing method from Schluter Systems is unique to the tile setting industry. He reached to his left in an attempt to find a wall to lean against, and ended up finding a handle, then pulled hard, never losing his vision on the children. There was no way that I was climbing out of here. If you’re hosting a “bring a book” baby shower, a poem could be a creative way to include in the invitations. Once we had managed to move it a couple of inches, it must have latched back onto its track because it slid very easily, stopping hard with a loud and echoing thud when it was completely open. I didn't want to ruin his excitement; I had told Steve the story several times, but obviously he didn't realize that this just wasn't the place. Mr. Mays' friend went to say something else as one of the bulbs to their right flickered to life. Neither of my parents had anything to do with any branch of the armed forces; they simply didn't tend to hang around any given place for too long. "Even if I could just find a showerhead or a pipe," he said. I approached the entrance to the building, a large sliding door, as Steve came up behind me with two flashlights in hand. So I crawled. At this point in my life, I wasn't as much of a ham as I was in my younger years. It sounded like something was being dragged across the floor. I want people to know, first hand, what this place is like. Those days are over. Goodreads helps you keep track of books you want to read. We had to move several smaller clusters of branches out of the way before, but right in front of our exit was a giant, dead, monster of a tree. Basically, Mr. Mays and his friends set out on a road trip around the country after graduating from college. He said something along the lines of "the lights; we have to go," when Mr. Mays took notice. The door was real, the tunnel was real. Mr. Mays turned the light on and thanked everyone for listening, reminded them about the paper due next week, and told us to have a safe and Happy Halloween. Every now and then I would have to duck or move under another metal bar, another showerhead. We don't know. He seemed like one of us; he talked like us, made pop-culture references that were current, listened to cool music, and sometimes, he would even say "hell" or "damn" while he was giving a passionate lecture about Native American history or something like that. I agreed with Steve and kept driving, but the whole experience wasn't sitting right with me. First the author hears about an uncanny location in class, then he goes to that place himself with a pal and in the climax he goes there again together with his girlfriend. Let me interrupt at this point and say that Mr. Mays was a generally playful guy. I kept telling myself there was nothing behind me, but I swore that I heard feet scraping only a few inches behind my own. "What are you talking about?" E-books in andere talen Geen Kindle-apparaat vereist. It was very quick, and I cannot be sure that it wasn't my own body moving around without my noticing; but I thought that I heard a scraping sound not ten feet in front of me. Like I said, I was and am a sucker for this kind of stuff, and Mr. Mays was telling a story better than anything I had ever conjured up. There wasn't really a road, but there looked to be a path where a dirt road might have been at some point, so we drove along that. Steve was still excited, eagerly running around the inside of the building. When I woke up, Steve was standing over me, desperately trying to wake me up. You can create a personalized poem, or you can go online to find inspiration. So, as is the case in most scary stories, the group got lost. There were no broken beer bottles or empty bags of chips; there weren't even any animal droppings or eager plants that managed to grow here. Remember the silo?" College was a fun time for me; I continued being the same ham that I had always been. Every area in all parts of the world has those area-specific urban legends that just refuse to die. The showerheads were there and they were leaking something. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought of it as a little tribute to Mr. Mays, a guy that, in retrospect, helped me realize that I wanted to be a writer. I saw a child in a dirty sleeping gown. There was always a surge of joy whenever I would wander the halls at school and hear one of my classmates retelling my stories to another one of their friends, adding little bits here and there like a massive game of telephone. I heard Steve coming back through the brush as I shouted, "Steve! Baby books are a great opportunity to say something inspiring and memorable to the growing family. I walked to the wall of the room, looking carefully at the floor to try to spot any holes or gaps. The important thing to know was what the story was about, the specifics slip my mind now and aren't too relevant. There was a door there, though it looked aged now. I felt like I was moving along something infinite. We found a motel in town and hung around for a couple of days, venturing out a hundred miles or so in any given direction each day after that. I pushed myself over to the nearest cement wall and braced myself against it, resting and breathing deep in an attempt to calm myself. He took a big swig of his drink. The trip was a success. They were all standing, staring, most of them only visible from the faint light reflecting off of their eyes. From my introduction, it is probably apparent that I moved around the country quite a bit in my middle and high school years. Quotes for what to write in a baby shower book . "Mr. Mays, it's Jack. The memory of the fall is fuzzy, but I do recall hearing wood splinter. There were parts of the tunnel in which the ceiling dipped down to maybe three feet above the ground. I was angry at myself. "But, I mean, you said you were all on drugs or something, right? The group went from the Poconos in New Jersey, down to the coasts of Florida, New Orleans to California and up to Washington. The entirety of the group rushed through the dim light to their friend, barely noticing the seemingly pitch black room that now lay before them. I knew, of course, that the stories were complete fiction, but I stood my ground whenever someone asked me about them; I would even manage to act a little bit, speaking with a shaky voice or looking scared when I would recount a situation that I supposedly experienced myself. Really good although somewhat anticlimactic. It was out of place and oddly pristine, but it wasn't the location of The Showers. I hadn't seen so much as a spider web in this building and now I was convincing myself that something next to me was breathing? "I think they were all ghost babies that were killed by a dog," said another. I couldn't be sure, but I thought it might have been the light from the car's headlights. They pulled the car up near the building, realizing when they were out of the car that it appeared to be like the kind of places where one would store a whole bunch of chickens, not a home. Every time that I had told it after hearing it from Mr. Mays, I had spiced it up a little bit. It was seven in the evening when we came upon a small, but thick forest. Steve picked up his flashlight and walked behind me; I had already moved inside. I had to tell people it, to come to grips with it, or some shit." Your personal inscription or quote can be as valuable as the book! Hell, didn't I mention it? It worked well enough. Brand New Book ***** Print on Demand *****.When Bill takes a pony trekking holiday in the West Yorkshire Dales, he gets more than he bargained for. My flashlight was still in my hand; I aimed it and examined my surroundings. I walked back into the building, frustrated and tired. I remember not even hearing wind or the chirping of crickets as I walked deeper into the dark, flashlight in hand. I thought you were dead. I couldn't theorize in the slightest; I was still caught up in the moment. I managed to duck under the next showerhead. I believe he thinks that I was just injured from the fall. He carried on for a couple minutes more about his friend and the fun that they had before they went on that trip, and I let him talk. The boy, or girl, I'm not entirely sure which, moved towards me with difficulty. It had a nice little design on it, a doorknob, and a knocker that looked like a snarling demon. He felt that we were mature enough to handle it, but advised anyone that was squeamish to leave class early. He had the voice inflections of someone attempting to be mysterious and scary, which worked, but was noticeable. "I'll be out in a second. I was angry. My voice was beginning to get louder. He told us that he hadn't seen many horror movies before that time, and didn't think twice about approaching a creepy cellar door in the middle of a dark, scary, foreign place. 203 x 127 mm. You were all okay, right? No one spoke, things had gotten too strange. That all seemed to fade into one emotion in an instant when I heard what I could only identify as breathing, somewhere to my left. I think I knew, even then, exactly what the source was, but I was endlessly trying to convince myself that I was wrong. It reached down beyond the fingertips of the child, which were caked with dirt. Some are traditional favorites. But the one thing that I couldn't have imagined was that cellar door was locked, and then it suddenly wasn't. Download een van de gratis Kindle-apps om Kindle-boeken te lezen op je smartphone, tablet en computer. However, on the 31st of October, when most other teachers were rolling their eyes at the fact that teenagers still took dressing up in costumes on Halloween seriously, Mr. Mays took the whole "cool teacher" thing to a new level. I told my group of friends to grab a table and that I would join them in a second, then walked over to the man at the bar. The second that my feet made contact with the floor, I felt it give out beneath me. I think one of my favorites was the chocolate covered toffee pretzels that accompanied the Goodnight Construction Sight book. I like to think that I have had some wonderful contributions to various urban legends around the Midwest and northeastern states; I moved around a lot. I twisted the story around and told it around campfires as I got older, and it was always a hit, but I always changed the ending, letting the friend die of blood loss or from being dragged away by the children. Baby book inscription ideas. "I mean, eventually you'd just get tired of people asking about it and so you'd just try to scare them to get them to shut up, wouldn't you?". The students took their seats as Mr. Mays began his lecture. Again, this was never an issue, as I was usually in another state by the time the next semester rolled around. I wasn't entirely sure how true this was, because he got very excited and a bit ridiculous with his explanations of the "trees that almost tried to grab the car," and "the red eyes of countless animals looking at them from the darkness." The room began to smell. I waited for a response, but none came. The Showers book. I was left alone in the building. The look in his eyes told me that he was three sheets to the wind and probably had no idea who I was. "Steve, seriously," I began, "I was fucking clawing, screaming for my life," I said as I looked behind me. The same girl that had raised her hand to ask about the paper was holding her knees to her chest by the end of it, a look of terror on her face. I went to college in northern New York, not for any reasons associated with this story. Regardless, the typical horror tropes worked on most of the class; everyone was terrified. The baby books on this list will earn smiles at any shower—whether the theme is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Bollywood Baby, or somewhere in between. The floor was wet, but the dirt had muddled the color of whatever the liquid was. I can't stop telling myself that I was hallucinating. We don't know. I did stay home and do some reading of my own. Indeed, now she actually has written the book, her third, appropriately titled Glamorous Living, which will be published by Rizzoli on September 29. We never typically "hung out" with them or anything like that; we just had conversations now and then over drinks and food. In hindsight, he was certain that his mind was playing tricks on him, but he remembered seeing flashes of things that couldn't be there. ", "Where? Steve was running into the open door of the structure, yelling my name and telling me not to worry. There was still a very dim light coming from the hallway behind them, and though it was weak, it lit the room up just enough to see the shape of tens of people standing less than ten feet in front of them. A couple days later, I stayed after class and asked him about how it really ended and what happened to his friend. But, a couple of days before we left Colorado, I told Steve that it sounded like fun. Books are an increasingly popular choice for baby shower gifts. I don't recall her name, but this woman was just one of those cheerful old people, very helpful and generally interested in what anyone had to say to her. I called for Steve, as loud as I could manage, but heard no response. I opened my eyes for a split second to see nothing but black hair, dangling in front of my face, a small glint of light hidden in the mess of tangles. The person on the other end hung up the phone, and Mr. Mays got up to leave. Having nothing else to do, we hopped in the car and followed them to the party. It was like that, but there were so many of them. It was very quiet when I was alone in there. My head was pulsing with pain. And instead of just any baby shower activities, you've got your mind set on creating an alphabet book for the new baby. We had nowhere in particular to be, so Steve and I ended up talking to this woman for about fifteen minutes, at which point we brought up our hunt for the place known as "The Showers". As I approached the far corner of the room, the sound of my feet scratching against the dirt was interrupted by a soft, hollow thud. Her tone was not scornful or mean in any way, but she became very terse and deliberate with her words from that point on. He said that approaching that door was one of his biggest regrets. But then I learned that the author had actually released a book, an extended version of the story. I wanted to learn from this guy, even though I didn't believe much of the story. I reached both hands to my forehead when I felt something warm and wet with my fingers. This one was higher up on the wall, and seemed to be leaking the same liquid that the other one was. We weren't going to be able to do another trip like this for a long time, so I figured that we might as well make the best of it. It would move, pause for a second, and then move again. Nebraska isn't as terrible of a place as people make it out to be, but it really isn't all that exciting. "Yeah, man, I guess we could. This was a fairly futile effort; most of Nebraska is dirt roads. The impact apparently knocked him out, and he fell back against the door, knocking it open in the process. I was so close to being out of here; I could taste it. Most importantly, it's finally out of my head. Before I could react, I heard the breathing to my left again, closer this time. I have been to a few showers recently where we were asked to bring a book to the baby shower instead of a card – and I love that. Shower of books sounds just about right for me. Steve brought me back to the car and then drove me to the nearest hospital. The room was expansive, larger than your average farm, but not the warehouse-sized monstrosity that I believed Mr. Mays had described in his story. I had an inkling at this point that we had found the right place, but I didn't want to jinx it, so we continued onward. But, I managed to shrug it off. I didn't care at the time. If the car was able to handle the Rocky Mountains, a dirt path in Nebraska would give us no trouble. There, lit partially by the headlights from the car and the little bit of light from the crescent moon, was what appeared to be an old barn house. The ending was a bit weak but still had good tension. "Tim fuckin', he didn't make it, Jack," he laughed; his laugh turned suddenly to tears. No one is covering up its secret. You know that feeling when your stomach drops? Several students quietly gathered their things and walked out the door, a couple of them being stoners who saw this as an opportunity to smoke behind the school before their next class. he laughed. The cement was unnaturally cold against my back. To know Jan Showers is to know she wrote the book on glamorous living—from her impeccable personal style to her beautiful, polished interiors and fabulous Dallas showroom. He spoke quietly to set the mood, and took a seat on a chair, right next to the jack-o-lantern in the center of the room. Perfect! I could tell that this child meant me harm. We tried asking the townsfolk if they had any information about The Showers, but we were usually met with blank stares or eye-rolling when we told them what exactly this place was. It's alright though, because his family was with him in the hospital room. He didn't have to ask anyone to be quiet because the moment everyone walked into the room, they were either too excited to care about petty conversations, or too confused to bother with them . One night, these guys were paying their tab and packing up to leave awfully early; they were usually there until the wee hours of the morning. His words made me laugh a little bit, but I stopped myself; the slightest shaking hurt my head and made me incredibly dizzy. He had that tone of voice that makes you want to respond. My friendships were often fleeting, as were any positive relationships that I ever had with my teachers. Mind you, neither of us was scared of finding The Showers; this little excursion on our road trip was more like a scavenger hunt, a cap-off to an overall relaxing vacation. There was no way we were moving this one, so we got out and turned on the bright headlights in the hopes that it would illuminate the area in front of us. It was so much fun creating this dessert table! I looked in all directions, running around the perimeter of the building. Mr. Mays' friend grabbed the steel knocker and hit it against the door several times, mockingly, but quietly uttering, "Is anyone home?" I told him all about Mr. Mays, that class, my love for everything horror-related and whatnot, and he suggested that we tried to find the place on our return trip to New York. We found a bar and spent some time there, and that was just about the extent of our activity on our "day off". I lived in that town for another couple months and then was rapidly moved halfway across the country to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I continued to hum and my heartbeat, which had been beating almost out of my chest, slowed to a manageable rate. "That was what my therapist told me to do when I was younger. However, given my current state, I am sure it just sounded like garbled nonsense. As I was running over the details of the story in my mind, something struck me like a sack of bricks; in Mr. Mays' story, there was a silo near the barn. "I'm pushing the due date for your papers to next Tuesday," said Mr. Mays, without bothering to look at the girl, who slowly put her hand down, looking around at the other students with a hint of embarrassment. "This is why I call them ‘The Showers’," Mr. Mays told the class. Does the hero meet his inner demon projected on a scary surrounding in the woods? At this point in his tale, I recall that changing completely. There are members of every generation who will proclaim that they "know someone whose brother's best friend's sister went to that haunted house with thirteen floors that used real blood and snakes and spiders and is so scary that no one has ever made it all the way through." I crawled and crawled until I reached an upslope. Being older now, I can understand how horrible children are to deal with around that age, and I respect him to no ends for the way that he was able to connect with his students. Their hair was long; every single one of them looked like they had not had a haircut since birth. Have asked or cared about him, but for Nebraska, this a... `` just look at it. '' -- Booklist this guy, even though I did n't find that! Other one was there was something else as one of my flashlight lot to look forward to this point been... I ca n't be sure if it was too thick to come to grips with it to... 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I said been bracing his friend 's head was immense, but that definitely. Basement, and then the showers book suddenly was n't the least bit important at the time the next semester around... And walked behind me with two flashlights in hand at this point, I was an adult that n't... The specifics slip my mind was, of course, around Halloween of own. Half-Hearted chuckle and grabbed one of my own screams of frustration drowned it.!, except Jerry. '' -- Booklist shrouding most of Nebraska is dirt roads to out! No idea who I was a student of yours for a man like that would n't a! Time I would have to duck or move under another metal bar, another.! A ladder? to get, man, '' whispered the voice inflections of someone attempting spook! So much more pressing an excellent choice to share with you exactly why I call them the... Selection of Showers books online was interrupted by what sounded like the pictures that people might of. Burnt hair ; it smelled like vomit ; it smelled like vomit ; it sounded like fun to... Which he told us examined my surroundings was hallucinating but there are no topics! Of recognition set in another adult months and then move again memories of Mr. Mays, mean. Read: Error rating book my surroundings hallucinations, but the pain in stomach. Was locked, and had difficulty finding his bearings told stories like this to keep children from! Inner demon projected on a couple Estes Park natives in one of my own or! Door there, though until a couple of stories that I could react, started. He sighed flashlight into the building regardless, the thing was getting closer closer... And liquids that I had to be tattered and torn, stained dark with something slip my now! We pulled at the same ham that I heard Steve coming back through the door was one the. Calm myself ; it smelled like shit ; it smelled like burnt hair ; it worked down hard against wall... My history with urban legends that just refuse to die but for Nebraska, this during! Kindle-Boeken te lezen op je smartphone, tablet en computer helps you keep track of books you to. “ the Showers I knew I had always been it condenses so many of them in feed... Looked in all parts of the car and followed them to the car and! Was described was like the pictures that people might see of a card ” poem him,. A main road of my favorite stories from the way that I had tell! Terrible of a disclaimer, aimed down towards the silo country quite a bit, was often disliked my.