Mary Jo Cries Forever

Name:            Ruth
Email:           ruthvirkus@email.com
Location:        A high school in Northern Minnesota
Anonymous:       
Type:            Ghost
Date:            Friday, December 10, 1999
Time:            11:33 AM

I can vouch for the truth of the following story, if not for the intelligence of my own actions...

I was very, very active in theater in high school. (This is not a disclaimer :)) I went to a small high school in Northern Minnesota, and the six of us (Carrie, Amy, Jeni, Elissa, Chelsea and I) were the core of the drama department. We did everything from building the sets to assistant directing- this entitled us to special privileges like wandering around the school with our director's set of keys. By the beginning of my senior year, I was convinced the auditorium was haunted. Doors always unlocked themselves, and props went missing even more than our sloppy prop mastering could account for. For instance: Carrie and I would unlock the front door to the theater, lock it behind us, walk to the back, un-padlock the door to the curtain booth, re-padlock it, go out the back entrance, relock *that* door, and come back fifteen minutes later to find the curtain booth un-padlocked and standing ajar. This happened so often that we would take turns pulling on the padlock to make sure it was really locked.

My other main interest in high school (at least at that time) was our daily sessions with the Ouija board in the art room. Carrie, Chelsea, Elissa and I were completely addicted. We had ample time to devote to this hobby, as we all had a crafts class down in the art room and went there for our lunches and study hall together. I'm really not quite sure why our art teacher never objected to us using his classroom for communicating with the dead three hours a day, but he seemed to like us- (and I think he had bigger problems. If you asked him nicely, he'd show you the scar where his ex-wife's boyfriend had shot him. But I digress) Now, looking back on this period, I wonder what the hell I was doing. The most I can say is that at least we never used the board alone. There were several spirits that we talked to all of the time. Our favorite called herself Janet. She was so much fun- her favorite trick was to spell out VENEREAL seconds before a bunch of jocks walked in the room. We let her get far too strong, and often let her off the board. (You'll need to bear with me as I tell this story--it may seem as if I'm going nowhere, but you're just going to have to trust me.)

Amy, Jeni, and our director thought we were crazy (with some justice!) and mocked us incessantly. They did not believe us, nor did they scruple to let us know exactly what they thought of ghosts. I do know what I experienced- and we were communicating with spirits, either human or non-human. We were not fooling ourselves or tricking each other. I think that Elissa very powerful psychically, although the four of us in all possible combinations used the board with equal success. I have used the board before and since that period of my life (although never again!) and it does work, but for the most part, the spirits are slow and rarely very coherent. Back then, we could touch the planchette and it would instantly take off so fast our fingers would fall off. Spirits clamored to talk to us. It wasn't the particular board we used, either. We made them of paper and used a roll of tape (sans dispenser) for a planchette. We would discard them every week or so and make a new one. (Which wasn't so dumb, now that I think about it.)

Our director, Jack, was fairly young and new to the school. One day when we were all just kicking about the theater after school, he decided to check out the condemned part of the theater complex. I had no idea such a thing even existed. Anyway, he was relishing being naughty, and took us (Amy, Carrie and I) along with him to explore. I had even missed the existence of the door which led to it, which was located on the stairwell by the back door to the auditorium. The faded gilt letters above the wooden door said "Theater Property Rooms", and it opened to a set of very narrow, steep steps. At the top to your left was a room full of rotting black velour legs (stage curtains) that smelled indescribably awful. A few steps down the hall to your right, the wall simply opened up, and you could step across the top of the rigging on to the ceiling of the auditorium which was littered with ancient trash and a stained mattress. At this point, I'm thinking it's a damn fine idea that this place is condemned. I'm ready to leave before we even look in the last room, which is at the end of a short hall to the left. Not even the nasty mattress prepared me for this room. It was painted scarlet. It was small and completely empty except for a trunk in the center of the room and the glow of the red enamel paint. We were all completely taken aback. What school paints a room red? I felt we shouldn't be there, and I wanted to go RIGHT NOW. My feeling was that we were somehow trespassing- I was disturbed, but not exactly frightened.

After, we did not mention it to even Chelsea and Elissa, as we knew that we could get Jack in trouble.

A week or so after this, we were talking with Janet during our lunch hour--with Janet it was never a Q & A session. Although she would answer questions, we could just have a conversation normally and she would join in. Strange-I miss her like I miss my other friends from high school with whom I've lost touch. Anyway, we were speculating about the existence of a ghost in the auditorium, and we asked Janet about it. She said that yes, there was a ghost and that her name was MJ. We asked if it would be possible for us to speak with her. MJ was very different than the other spirits- she seemed almost nervous. It was obviously not part of her personal agenda to clamor for attention on open Ouija boards, like so many of the others. After a while, and with Janet's assistance, we found out that her name was Mary Jo. She had a disconcerting way of answering questions with the refrain "I cry forever. Sad. Forever sad." and variations thereof. Ghoulishly, we wanted to know where and how she had died. She finally told us that she had been raped in the school and had subsequently died of an illegal abortion. When pressed as to the exact location, she got very agitated and spelled out PR--PR--PR rapidly and jerkily. So we're guessing Pool Room, Physics Room...Prop Room. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, she began to spell RED--RED--RED. Carrie and I nearly wet ourselves. We were so upset that we finally told Elissa and Chelsea about our trip to the red prop room.

From then on, we talked with Mary Jo nearly every day. I began to get very attached to her. For me, she was the embodiment of every sister we had ever failed. Grieving with her and for her was like grieving for every woman who was forced to suffer for a violence for which she had no fault, no responsibility, and yet all the shame and burden thrust upon her. She became important to me. She liked us, too. We began to acknowledge her presence in the theater, as well. At this time, we were in the midst of a production of Twelfth Night, so we were in there at least 4 hours a day. Jack, Jeni and Amy were still having none of our nonsense, and mocked both us and Mary Jo pretty much daily. Mary Jo did not take kindly to this. She hated them, and called them respectively "The Bearded Boy", "Blondy" and "Bones". She told us that she was going to get even with them, and although she promised that she would never do anything to us, began issuing warnings to "Beware Stage Left". We did, believe you me. (Steve, who eventually became a college roommate of mine, placed a plaster Buddha backstage left for protection.) Of course, Jack, Jeni and Amy brushed us off, but a lot of strange things did happen, culminating in Amy's concussion during stage combat on- you guessed it, stage left. (There was no reason for her ever to have fallen on her head doing that particular move)

We thought we were in the clear after Amy's dramatic accident (no pun intended) and that Mary Jo had made her point. She wasn't evil, she was just very very sad and confused. But she kept telling us that she was going to do things during the performances, that she would "make things happen", but when we asked for specifics, she would fall back into her old refrain: "Sad. I cry forever." We were expecting bedlam complete with pig's blood, but what we got was perhaps more fitting. Nerves are always high right before a show opens, and people do get emotional. But I have never seen anything like the scenes backstage of that show. Every performance day after warm ups Elissa, Carrie, Steve and I would form a huddle which we called "our circle of sanity" and promise to stay calm for each other. Then we'd sit back and watch the rest of the cast and crew crumble...into tears. One girl cried because she decided she didn't like her costume- another because she missed her cue (she always missed that cue) and I stumbled upon the biggest jock in the class bawling in the wings. (He later claimed not to remember why.) They went down like flies, cast and crew-at least 4 or 5 per performance.

Soon after that, we retired the Ouija board after some experiences that we'll have to save for another story. I can't quite regret that period in my life, though. I learned a lot, and I would never have missed the chance to know Janet and Mary Jo. If I had known more then, I would have tried to really help Mary Jo, to release her from that cycle of pain she was caught inside. I think it would have been possible to help her move on. It is one of my biggest regrets when I think about how Mary Jo shared her tears with us all.