I went to visit the Mrytles Plantation in St. Francisville, Louisiana with my family and some family friends. We were going down there to go to the Angola rodeo, and we all decided to take a tour of the plantation the day before the rodeo.
Our group included six adults, and seven kids (three ten year olds, an eight year old, two six year olds, and me, fourteen at the time.)
The moment we arrived on the plantation it felt like a haze started to hang on me. My mom told me later I seemed out of it. I felt like I was in a dream the whole time. Floating from place to place. I barely remember the tour.
But what’s weird is, I don’t remember anything after we left. We have pictures from the plantation (all pretty creepy), and after. I don’t remember going to the Angola Prison to tour the museum. I don’t remember the rodeo. I do remember, though, dreaming of the plantation. Like I was still there. Trapped. I even developed severe ulcers in my mouth. Just, randomly.
But I didn’t realize that, until we got home. My mom told me I only complained about them, once the whole weekend. It was when we ate at a Mexican place and I was eating salsa.
For weeks after I still felt out of it. I still dreamt of the plantation. It only stopped after I told my mom and she told me that when I started to feel that way, to tell whatever may be stuck to me, to go away. I’m not sure if that was what finally gave me peace. But anytime I talk or think about it, it’s like I’m reaching for the memory, but i can’t reach it.
The Mrytles Plantation is definitely a cursed area. If you’re ever in St. Francisville, Louisiana, don’t go. It definitely feels like a gateway to hell.