The story I actually thought I've put up...awell...my story, again, takes place in the late 1970s, around 1978 when I was ten. I went to a small country town Catholic Primary school that was taught by nuns. It was an old school, maybe dating back to the very late 1890s as it had an old church on the hill (now torn down), old classrooms (which we'll get to in a few secs) that were made from solid Australian Hardwood like red gum and Rosewood as well as teak (the floors were made from teak).
It was a Friday afternoon and I was going to spend a weekend with my best mate, Luke (see The Old Packing Shed). This was just before he and his family moved out to their big old farmhouse, as they had a house in town (yea pretty wealthy farming family they were). Luke and I planned to "break into" the school, which was simply just walking through the gate that led into the school. One of our mates left one of the doors to the classroom unlocked.
So, Saturday morning Luke and I rode up to the school (him on his bike, me on his sister's), dumped the bikes in a clump of lantana then in we went. The door was unlocked and we crept in.
We ran amok. Hid the cane behind the curtains (took the teacher six months to find it) then this is when things started getting kind of weird (I still have dreams of this classroom). Luke mucked about on the typewriter while I decided to go into the other classroom and felt as if I just walked into a classroom filled with unseen kids who wanted me to leave... Many years later I had the same feeling as I walked into a deserted office... I walked out backwards and Luke and I sort of hurried out.
We walked about then grew bored then as we were about to leave, we both just happened to turn and there we saw her-the old nun. She had a strange Habit on, not the one the nuns wore but something from another time, her Habit was like the Flying Nun... Freaked us out. I can still see her-wearing glasses, angry expression etched on her wrinkled old skin, her eyes were burning with intensity... That was it, that did it for Luke and I as we both bolted for our bikes, literally screaming.
We told the lads that Monday. The story went around the school about us seeing a ghost. It was a few weeks later I happened to find these old photos that were on display. I damned near shat myself when I saw her. I bolted, found Luke and the lads and showed them that photo. It was her alright, the Cranky Old Nun as we called her.
Postscript: Just a few years ago I found a website on YouTube that was celebrating my old school's 100th birthday. I knew a few faces and smiled then my smile froze when I saw The Cranky Old Nun on a picnic... Oh boy she looked even more Crankier in the photo than she did when I saw her.
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