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Real ghost stories in prison

I was born in a very poor little valley. At the age of seventeen, for a better life and for the woman I love, I took the risk and cooperated with Vietnamese people to start selling drugs.

Later… Later, he was imprisoned.

Prison cells all over the country may be similar, with twelve people per room, six iron beds with two upper and lower floors, placed on two sides, each with a stool in front of the bed, with a very narrow passage in the middle.

Although life in prison is very regular, there is no regularity in labor.

Generally divided into manual work and farm work.

Most of the manual work is making sweaters, buttoning, embroidering, making paper bags, making envelopes and the like.

Farm work is very complicated, it depends on what kind of work you are assigned, there are management of orchards, rice fields, rabbits, pigeons, anyway, all kinds!

In prison, there are only two meals a day, lunch and dinner, with only thirty minutes for each meal.

Each cell has a head, and when it’s time for dinner, the head of the cell will call in the meals for twelve people, and then distribute them to everyone.

In all of China, in any prison, there are suicides and self-mutilation.

Suicide and self-harm is the most important incident in prisons. If there is such a thing, the prison leaders, the squadron police officers, and all the prisoners in the brigade will be severely dealt with.

In a prison, any prisoner will miss home, relatives, friends, a good meal, and a good night’s sleep.

Occasionally, when there was no work to do, everyone would always stand in front of the bars of the prison cell and look at the sky.

During the six years in prison, the ups and downs of the sentence are self-explanatory, and I don’t want to say it myself, and readers don’t need to ask more.

In my third year in prison, my aunt helped me with a relationship and was transferred to “Qiucheng Prison.

Why go to “Qiucheng Prison? Because, being close to home, in the prison, and being cared for by relatives, life will be easier, at least not being bullied.

The real thing about the ghost encounter in the prison also started when he was transferred to Qiucheng Prison.

There are many buildings in Qiucheng Prison, which are generally called by their location, at least that’s what the prisoners call them.

I live in a cell on the third floor of the East Building.

The prison cell is about 20 square meters and houses 12 people, with six bunk beds.

I was on the top bunk in the corner of the room.

There are four floors in the East Building, and the fourth floor is sealed with seals.

Why it was closed is unknown.

When I first moved in, I heard, “My friend said that the fourth floor is often haunted.

I don’t really believe it, because I have been daring since I was a child, and I don’t believe in ghosts and gods at all.

One night, not long after I lay down.

There was movement on the fourth floor, very clear, it was the sound of people walking, dragging their feet unhurriedly.

After a while, the sound of walking turned into a stomping sound, and the stomping was violent.

Logically speaking, no matter the stomping sound or the dragging sound, it is normal.

But it’s definitely not normal for something like this to happen in prison.

Don’t say that prisoners are not allowed to do that, not even the guards.

The people in our cells may have gotten used to it and just listened quietly.

“It’s human, go away! It’s ghost, come here! I said.

As a result, the footsteps slowly came to my side.

Then, on the fourth floor above my head, after stomping for a while, I dragged my steps and walked away slowly until the sound disappeared completely.

I thought that he was afraid of me and would not have a voice in the future.

Unexpectedly, the sound grew louder and louder.

Even, on a few occasions, I even dreamed that a pair of feet, pacing, came to me.

I also talked to the prison guard about this.

They said it was there before.

They used to rush up to the fourth floor with batons when there was movement, but there was nothing, and now they’re used to it.

Once, the guard told us to go up to the fourth floor to clean up.

Maybe it’s because they’re on duty at night and they’re scared too.

So, I want to check it out.

Two cops and a chore took us up to the fourth floor.

The big iron door of the passage was locked by a big lock, and the broken seal was shaking.

Looking into the tunnel from the iron bars, everyone couldn’t help but fight a cold war.

Such a spooky place.

Although it was broad daylight, it was foggy inside, as if it was impossible to see through. The ground was full of ash, thick ash, deadly silence and deadly cold, which made each of us shudder.

Chore opened the lock.

There is no way, in prison, what you want to do must be done, and there is no negotiation.

One by one we went in and started sweeping.

Clean room by room.

In order to strengthen our courage, our entire class cleaned together. After cleaning one room, we went to another room to clean together.

Sweeping to the upstairs room of our cell, I found a painting on the ground.

Above is a middle-aged man with a mustache.

He was laughing, a very strange smile, so strange that people dared not take a second glance.

I didn’t want to take a second look, but, it happened that I saw the feet.

It was a pair of feet that seemed familiar, because I seemed to have seen them many times in my dreams.

I screamed and ran out, holding the painting in my hand.

Trembling, I handed the painting to the leading police officer.

He only glanced at it and said, “He is a painter, this is his self-portrait, but unfortunately he ate a gun a few years ago! Brother, go home!”

After the leading police finished speaking, they set fire to the portrait.

As the painting was burned, there was a loud bang in the passage.

We can all feel the vibrations like the sound of a big wooden pier slamming to the ground.

Everyone looked at each other, including the police.

since that day.

The nightly sounds are much louder and more complex than they used to be.

There are various sounds.

There were cries and the sound of walking with iron shackles. In short, it was much more arrogant than before.

Seven days later, the sound was gone.

This matter is over.

A few months later, a felon came to our cell.

I chatted with him very much and took good care of him in the cell.

When I was leaving, I made him a pendant.

Grind with a five-cent coin, first grind off the pattern on the cement, then finely grind it with cotton cloth, and finally polish it with stockings and toothpaste, and throw it like a mirror.

Then use the collar hook to straighten and grind the needles to thorn on it little by little, and the words or patterns formed by the thorns have a frosted feeling, very beautiful.

The moral is to hope that he can save his life and not be sentenced to death.

He liked the little pendant.

After a period of time, one night, a small gourd that I was hanging on the wall suddenly fell off for no reason. There was no wind in the room, and the rope was not broken, and the small gourd fell on my leg. It feels like someone is coming in.

And right in front of me!.

I saw no response from everyone, but I actually felt something in front of me.

I became more and more afraid and tried to talk to others, but the fear became more and more serious.

I decided to do something, so I got up and made a pendant. This time, the pendant was not ground with coins, but by smashing white and green toothbrushes into small pieces, with less white and more green.

Put it in the bottle cap of the monument wine, then make a long paper twist with paper, put it under the bottle cap and bake until the plastic toothbrush handle is completely melted, and then polish it, just like the jade.

When I started lighting the paper twist, I discovered something that surprised everyone! The paper twist is burning, but the paper is not burnt! Flame blue, not at all like the red-yellow it used to be, more like Clean fuel blue.

Everyone in the prison cell is full of surprises! Only an old man in his fifties said: “Someone help you!”

I can’t think of anyone who helped me.

Later, when I polished the pendant, the white pattern on it clearly showed a pattern, which was a pattern I was very familiar with.

At this point, I knew who was coming.

I silently prayed for him in my heart: “May you have a good journey.

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