Author Archives: Annika Jarvis

The Real Mannequin

There’s this little town in Mexico. It’s name is a dog, I think. Chihuahua, I think. Yeah, Chihuahua, Mexico. And there’s this famous bridal dress store there… the only famous thing about Chihuahua, Mexico. And there’s this mannequin out front. And it’s a really creepy mannequin; I’ve seen pictures of it. There are rumors that the owner of the shop, this creepy old guy, did that thing where he put formaldehyde all over his daughter when she died young. What is that called? Uh, embalming. Yeah. There are rumors about this shop, that the mannequin in front is his embalmed daughter. I know it sounds crazy. But if you look at it… at the mannequin… her fingernails are so… real. Like, yellow and crusty where they meet her skin. And her skin is all sallow and rubbery looking. And she has this long, stringy hair. I can’t remember what color it was, but it wasn’t pretty. Kind of matted looking. And all crusty where it meets her scalp. Oh, yeah and her eyes are all murky. They don’t look like the typical painted-on or glass eyeballs that typical mannequins have. Like, at all. But it’s the fingernails that got me. I’m inclined not to believe this kind of stuff, it sounds insane. But I’ve seen the pictures and the mannequin looks like… a dead body. And it’s not nice to look at, especially given it’s supposed to be used to sit out front and look good and sell dresses. Like, why would somebody put a crusty, creepy mannequin out in front of their store? Because it’s their embalmed, dead daughter—that’s why.

M heard this story from her friend, and after seeing the pictures of the mannequin online, it’s haunted her ever since. She likes this piece because it scares her, and usually horrifies the people she tells it to, eliciting a good reaction. She’s so interested in this story that she wants to one day visit Chihuahua and see the famous mannequin in person. Maybe that will answer her question of the story being true or not.

This story is chilling, especially with the photos as a supplement to the story itself. It’s easy to discredit it as a scary story, but the pictures do look like a real body. I think I might believe that it is true.

Malibu Ghost Baby

We had these friends who lived up in Malibu on the cliffs in this gorgeous house. They were always asking us to come up for dinner, so we finally made the long trek over there and took them up on their offer. And the house was as beautiful as they described. Overlooking the ocean, this big airy kitchen. A huge swimming pool out back. It was a giant house and there were only three of them—mom, dad, teen daughter. They gave us a tour of the upstairs, the bedrooms and everything. They showed us the master bedroom. It was insane… wrap around windows, everything. There was this little room attached to it, kind of like the size of a closet. It had a big window that overlooked the backyard. And there was a crib inside and all these baby toys, clothes, a changing table. Their daughter was thirteen at the time, and all the baby stuff was meant for a boy. Little space ships on the walls, and a mobile over the crib with planets and rocket ships and stuff. So it wasn’t their daughter’s old stuff, and that would’ve been weird for them to keep for so long. They caught my confusion and explained. They were renting the house, and they got it for really cheap. The family who owned it moved out in a rush about three years before. They had a baby boy. Their only child. And the parents went to work one day, and left their son with his nanny. And the nanny brought the baby to the front of the house and was playing with him on the porch. She went inside to get a glass of water, and left the baby out front by himself. Well, he crawled over into the driveway just as the mom pulled in from work in her giant SUV. They lived on this steep cliff, and you really had to maneuver into their driveway. I remember being careful while driving in. You’re on an uphill climb, and then you have to turn sharply and start driving downhill through this narrow gate in order to get inside. Well, the mom didn’t see her baby in the driveway, and ran over him. And he passed away. And they couldn’t live in that house anymore so they moved out quickly and rented it out to our friends. Their only stipulation was they had to keep the baby’s room intact. Our friends couldn’t move anything—the crib had to stay there and everything. They said the door would crack open sometimes while they slept, or they would hear the baby mobile tinkling in the middle of the night. We lost touch over the years. And a few months ago I heard the house burned down. Not from a forest fire or anything, just burned to the ground. Eerie.

M experienced this story himself, and it is one of the only instances he has of interaction with the supernatural. He says he felt something in that baby room, and a sort of foreboding feeling while in the house—especially after hearing the story. He likes the story because it is creepy, especially since the house is no longer there.

This piece is creepy—the maintenance of how things were before the death of the little boy, as if he was still living in that room. I wonder why the parents kept it intact—maybe because they didn’t feel right throwing away his things, or they thought his spirit would still live on in that room?

The Severed Toe

Okay, so we go up to Rancho Santa Fe all the time during the summer, and it’s this little town with winding roads that stretch for miles. And the houses there are huge and spread out, so when you’re driving it’s rare to run into another car. So one day we’re driving down to the Del Mar Racetrack on one of these winding roads, and this ambulance SWERVES in front of us. So we hit the breaks— it’s like it didn’t even see us, or didn’t care. And we wait a few minutes before moving again, and there’s only one road down, so we’re stuck behind it, but we keep our distance because it’s driving out of control—making sharp turns, speeding well past the limit. And it rounds one particular turn and practically skids, and the back doors fly open and this little objects falls out of the back and onto the street. And it’s like the driver doesn’t even notice, because he just speeds away. And we stop. And he’s gone. And there’s this… this, like, thing, sitting in the middle of the street. And we’re sitting there watching it. And it starts to steam, like… smoke starts to rise off of it. So of course we’re like, “What the hell do we do? What the hell is that?” And my wife tells me to go check it out. And I’m like, “I’m not gonna go check that out!” But then she gives me this look, so I get out and slowly approach it. So I’m walking and walking, slowly inching towards this steaming object. And as I get closer I see it’s this little square, like white. A little box? And I get even closer and see its a block of dry ice. And that’s what’s steaming. And strapped to it is this SEVERED TOE. Yeah… a TOE. Just sitting there on the ice, all bloody. And I’m like, about to throw up. And I hear the car door open behind me and my wife approaches, and she gasps when she sees that, and asks if I see what she sees. An actual steaming, severed toe. So we just stand there staring at it for a while, saying nothing. And finally I pull out my phone, and my wife looks at me and asks what I’m doing. I say, “I’m calling the toe truck.

M’s friend told him this story at the racetrack one day. His friend said it with such a straight face, and made it so compelling, that it took M a few minutes to realize the punch line—and that the whole thing was a joke. He tells this story all the time, because it captivates his listeners, and almost always gets a laugh.

This is a very clever joke, especially if you can deadpan the whole thing. If you tell it like its the craziest thing that’s ever happened to you, the reveal that it was all a made-up joke is all the more jarring in the end.

Squirrel in the Middle of the Street

If you’re driving down the street and you almost hit a squirrel running in the middle of the road, it’s not considered a squirrel anymore. What is it, you ask? A quirrel. Why? Because you just scared the “s” out of it.

This is something M’s dad said to him once, and he’s been repeating it ever since. He likes it because it’s funny and he’s never heard it told before, and no one he’s ever told it to has heard it either. It’s important to him because his dad made it up.

This joke is so lame it’s funny. You laugh because it’s kind of stupid, but as far as personally-made up jokes go, it’s pretty good. It’s not funny enough to be memorable, but funny enough to earn a little laugh.

Bird Poop is Good Luck

I was at the racetrack and one of our horses was just about to enter this big race. Its name was “El Cielo.” That means “the sky” in Spanish. Anyway… I’d been there for a few races, wasn’t doing too well. Was feeling kind of, you know, beaten down. And I got up to go to the bathroom before this race—I was nervous, it was a big deal. And as I’m leaving our box and walking up to the bathroom, I feel this… SPLAT on my head. I was wearing a hat, but I could feel something drop on me. I didn’t even wanna touch it, I knew what it was immediately. It wasn’t raining…what else drops out from the sky? So I go to the bathroom, look in the mirror, and…. of course. Bird shit. All matted in my hat. My first thought was, “Ah, crap.” Right? Isn’t that what you’d think? Like, this is disgusting, I smell bad, no ones gonna wanna go near me. But the race was about to go off and I still had to pee so I just did my business and went back to the box. And I sat down and everyone looked at me, like, “Jeez, what is this guy doing?” But the horse won. Oh, and I forgot to mention that we were at low odds, we beat out a massive favorite. And then I won the next race I bet. And I ended up having one of the biggest track days of my life. And it was because of the bird poop, I know it.

This story happened to M, and he likes it because it’s funny and no one ever believes that the bird poop was the reason for the good luck. But he researched it online a little while later, and birds pooping on you is considered good luck across many different cultures.

I’ve heard about bird poop being good luck before, but this story is the most legitimate evidence I’ve heard of that actually being true. Essentially, what this is saying is that bird poop is the ultimate blessing in disguise.