Good by dreams of yesterday
Atmospheric horror
Oh how I miss my old town funk, the day are new and drunk, by memory never forgets me, nostalgia and lust I am but a dying man. Slowly rotting away, the boys where talking about those old places out yonder beyond civilization, some crack dens or abandon structures people claim to be haunted, no reports of body’s though, and at best just a crack den for the homeless, I remember my first time in the dwellings of an old world pendent lost to time, They called it the Holy cross, use to be the remnants of an old tuberculosis center back in them days of the war, use to be an off shoot center to camp Cody, ew Mexicos first cavalry division, the whole town use to be, but now and when I was young then, it was just remnants of tunnels and the decaying remnants of a burned down hospital where people would go party, worship Satan and become mafia affiliated, took me a while to separate the two, holy cross and camp Cody! History says, it was the old tuberculosis center for the war 1900s, after that a recovery center during World War Two, then sometime in the nineteen seventy’s it caught fire, and burned down, people still inside. After that all that remained was the ruins, a colt in the late seventies early eighties started animal sacrifices and blood rituals, in the basement of the ol’ girl. Body’s where burned once cremated in the basement to prevent the spread of tuberculosis, drug deals and gang initiations would happen out there by the abandoned hospital in the middle of no where on the outskirts of town, I remember my first time there, my dad took me and my little sister we where young then, but old enough to understand the danger, but to young to avoid walking into the ruins, I remember the graffiti that plagued the concrete walls, the noose the hung from the second floor, the shattered bottles and beer cans that littered the floor, bullet casings in the other room, just dirt and concrete a shrine to what was a prominent landmark, nothing more than a memory of the past no one truly appreciated, I remember walking up the second floor, one of the steps was missing just rebar sticking out of the wall, followed by more steps leading up, the basement dark and usually smelled like death, most people blamed it on an animal that got lost in the silos, but as my second dad would point it out, most people were wrong, before the police tore it down and bull dosed the remnants, they found decapitated heads on the premises, body’s that decayed in the silos, ashes of old world men no longer able to be identified, shadows on walls that reek and left behind maggot infested residue, and only denounced to the community, because a girl lost her boyfriend in the drainage tunnels, he drowned to death under the hospital, people use to walk the mountains out here in our chihuahua desert, and find human remains wrapped up in trash bags sitting out in the sun, a place is nothing more than a landmark, our home was always haunted from war time till now body lay beneath my holy ground my way to paradise my home I forever shall love! The truth is, you don’t need death to be haunted, my best memories are to most child abuse, but to me I miss the hospital, and now it’s nothing more than a concrete outline, buried beneath our desolate desert!