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The Empty Chair at Lake Poway: A Poway Ghost Story

Ben
Yawnder Night Stories · Poway · Fiction
The chair is always empty when you first see it.
That is the only time it is safe to look at it.
Moonlit Lake Poway with an empty bench and a ghostly figure near the water.
An illustrated interpretation of the empty chair at Lake Poway before dawn.

Before sunrise, Lake Poway can feel miles away from the city. The hills are black shapes against the sky. The water is flat. Footsteps carry farther than they should.

That is where people started seeing the chair.

The First Morning

Daniel was training for a long hike and liked to start early.

One Saturday, just before dawn, he noticed a folding chair near the water.

Cheap aluminum frame.

Blue fabric seat.

No fishing pole.

No bag.

No person.

He assumed someone had forgotten it.

The Footsteps

On his second lap, Daniel decided to sit down for a minute.

The moment he did, he heard footsteps behind him.

Slow.

Crunching through gravel.

He turned around.

Nobody was there.

The footsteps stopped.

Daniel stood.

They started again.

The Man Across the Water

Daniel left quickly.

Halfway back to the parking area, he glanced across the lake.

Someone was sitting in the chair.

A man.

Too far away to see clearly.

But the man was facing Daniel.

And waving.

The Chair Moves

The next weekend, Daniel returned after sunrise.

The chair was gone.

He felt foolish for being frightened.

Then he found it farther up the trail.

Same blue fabric.

Same aluminum frame.

This time it faced away from the lake.

Toward the path.

Three Rules

An older hiker saw Daniel staring at it.

“Don’t sit there,” she said.

Daniel asked why.

She gave him three rules.

First: never sit in the chair twice.

Second: if you hear footsteps, do not turn around.

Third: if you see someone sitting in it from across the lake, leave before they stand up.

The Third Saturday

Daniel should have stopped going.

Instead, curiosity pulled him back.

The chair was waiting near the water again.

This time, someone was already sitting in it.

The man from across the lake.

Daniel froze.

The figure slowly stood.

Daniel remembered the third rule.

He turned and ran.

The Steps Behind Him

Footsteps followed immediately.

Not running.

Walking.

Calmly.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

No matter how fast Daniel ran, the footsteps stayed the same distance behind him.

He reached his car, locked the doors and drove home without looking in the mirror.

The Chair in the Garage

Daniel never went back before sunrise.

For weeks, nothing happened.

Then one morning he opened his garage.

The blue folding chair was sitting in the center of the floor.

Facing the door to the house.

Daniel moved two months later.

He left the chair behind.

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Yawnder Night Stories

This story is fiction. The setting is real; the haunting is ours. Browse the full collection at Yawnder Night Stories.

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