FRIDAY Feature: Middle of the Bed

The following story has been passed down in my family from generation to generation. My mother told me and her father told her and so on. Looking back, I can only imagine that it was created as a tale to keep the little ones in their beds at night; but the question of where it originated and if there’s any truth behind this tale has always haunted me.

In the dark they could hear Lady Flora weep. She stumbled through the twisting hallways leading to their room. Little Kimberly (my mom) and her cousins snuggled closer together in the old, Victorian, queen-size bed. They often shared that bed which was situated in the maid’s quarters of the inn. That was their room when they stayed with their Gram, who owned the Wallace lodge. But on the nights that Flora returned, they almost always had to flee the room and bunk with their parents or their grandmother, instead.

As a young woman in the late 1800s, Flora played the grand piano, that later stood in the front parlor of the Wallace Lodge. She was so talented, in fact, that she traveled far and wide to entertain the crowds. Many say, she traveled so much that she often longed to get a good night’s sleep in her own bed back at, what was once, the Chester Wallace farm. Sadly, after years of being on the road, she never returned from her last show, and she was eventually pronounced dead.

That’s when the sightings began.

It started with the beautiful music that would echo through the parlor of the lodge late at night. The next morning, guests would report the noise and the distinct flickering of the lights, but no one had ever laid eyes on Lady Flora. It wasn’t until much later, that her ghostly figure was spotted roaming the hallways, dragging her suitcase behind her as it scraped the guestroom walls.

She was sweet, they all said. Just a lost a soul looking for her bed. For this reason, the bed was moved into the far end of the lodge and was only ever used for over-flow guests… and, of course, the children when they visited.

GOODNIGHT my loves-
rest your sleepy heads,

remember to stay safe,
and snuggled in your bed.

Pull the covers up close;
and close your eyes tight.

You DON’T want to see
the flickering of the light

And if it’s three times,
that’s something you should dread-

You won’t be safe in

For that was Lady Flora’s
favorite place to lay.

On the nights she returns-
move out of the way!


(c) 2018 Abbie Richey Butler
Inspired by stories from Gerald F Davidson (my grandfather; my Dumpy)
Photo by Sergiu Vălenaș on Unsplash

I’ve created this page to share the spooky stories that made me–the haunted me–Do you have a SPOOKY STORY to share? Email me at — you know I want to hear it & maybe our readers will, too!–Abbie Richey Butler

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