A showerhead protruded from a cement wall, reaching maybe a foot into the room. Something is really weird about the place in general. High 41F. Broken Bow is a city in McCurtain County, Oklahoma, United States. My self-deprecation in the afterlife was interrupted by what sounded like Steve's voice. Fucking Hell on Earth, if you ask me.". He never really asked about it, and we didn't stay in contact for much longer. Apparently he was still teaching at the same school doing "the same old shtick," as he called it. My memories of Mr. Mays mostly stem from the way that he really got into anything that he was doing. Partly cloudy. Never wanting to admit defeat, they drove into the night, making wrong turns every five minutes until they found themselves on a wooded road that Mr. May's friend was certain that his grandparents lived off of. Dude, wake up. Mr. Mays let the whole class know that he was going to tell us as much as he deemed appropriate about the experience. I went to college in northern New York, not for any reasons associated with this story. Finally, click “Add” to create your job alert. "Hey, Jack," whispered the voice. I made friends very easily, was often the class clown, and because of that, was often disliked by my teachers. I guess that's really the point of this whole story. It wasn't until college that I got a chance to talk to Mr. Mays again. "So you were just going to run off into that place in the dark?" After the sound of Steve's feet scraping the floor above me faded away, I was only able to hear that buzzing that occurs in total silence intertwined with the pulsing in my head. It basically looked like a small warehouse. But, I will never return to Nebraska; no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise. I didn't care at the time. We spent another day in Broken Bow before we took our next trip out to try to find The Showers. He laughed and said that his friend was fine and that it was honestly (he whispered this part), "Probably due to some of the drugs they were on at the time." There, lit partially by the headlights from the car and the little bit of light from the crescent moon, was what appeared to be an old barn house. I'd never be able to tell him the impact that he had on my life, or rather, the impact that his story had on me. The following is the story of how I came to find "The Showers," and why I will never, ever go anywhere near Nebraska ever again. The party itself was very low-key, and ultimately inconsequential to this story; however, the important thing about it was that at some point in the night, we were all sitting around the fire and swapping ghost stories. He said that they came upon a door after walking for what felt like a mile. I think it might be in my red climbing bag, but I'm not sure." There was still a very dim light coming from the hallway behind them, and though it was weak, it lit the room up just enough to see the shape of tens of people standing less than ten feet in front of them. MAP. It will spot a new look replete with elegance, style and an air of sophistication never experienced before. "I mean, if I had to live in a place associated with an urban legend or something like that, I would totally mess with anyone who asked about it," he said. I was reverting back to my old habits quickly. Mr. Mays was one of my social studies teachers in the early years of my high school experience. We had nowhere in particular to be, so Steve and I ended up talking to this woman for about fifteen minutes, at which point we brought up our hunt for the place known as "The Showers". Winds NW at 10 to 20 mph. The only person who seemed to know anything about it was an older lady that worked at a gas station on the outskirts of town. At this point, I remember Mr. Mays telling the entire class to learn from his idiocy. I could only make out one eye, brightly reflecting the light of my flashlight. I approached the entrance to the building, a large sliding door, as Steve came up behind me with two flashlights in hand. I was convinced that there had to be something. The room began to smell. Hell, didn't I mention it? I asked if everything was alright, and he said that they were as good as they ever have been or were ever going to get. It's getting late and I'm getting another drink. He took a calmer tone, smiled, and said, "How've you been, Jack?". "I slammed the red door behind me," he said, "and ran through that hallway faster than I have ever run before or since. There had to be a ladder or something, somewhere. The trip was a success. I have laid this little introduction out as sort of a disclaimer, aimed particularly at those who will call my story into question. 1. Once we had managed to move it a couple of inches, it must have latched back onto its track because it slid very easily, stopping hard with a loud and echoing thud when it was completely open. I drink a lot, but I am still functional. Help. As I sat there, I felt all-encompassing dread. He lifted the guy's head into his arms, immediately taking off his jacket and putting it over his forehead to attempt to stop the bleeding. He told us that after spending a week in Colorado, he and his friends had to travel through miles and miles of corn, plains, and more corn. We spent another day in Broken Bow before we took our next trip out to try to find The Showers. "I mean, eventually you'd just get tired of people asking about it and so you'd just try to scare them to get them to shut up, wouldn't you?". One girl raised her hand with a concerned look on her face. Broken Bow, NE (68822) Today. Steve came up from behind, set his flashlight on the ground, grabbed the door, and said, "One, two...three!". I suppose this aspect of my childhood has led to my current predicament which I will recount, in full, for the internet to take from it what they will. After our rental was through, we packed up again and headed on our way back east. Close . The way in which he told this story rendered the horror-junkies speechless and the rest of the class terrified. Govier Brothers Mortuary & Crematory, Arnold Funeral Home and Mullen Funeral Home 542 South 9th Ave. I crawled all the way to the door and threw my shoulder into it. "So, when you're out trick r' treating tonight, make sure that you know exactly where you are headed, and don't go out to any abandoned farmhouses. Imagine that, though, dying in fucking Nebraska. Disappointed, I wandered near the entrance while Steve ventured into the expanse of darkness. Mr. Mays took another second to move, and had difficulty finding his bearings. Initially I was reluctant simply because I didn't feel like aimlessly wandering through Nebraska for days, looking for some old farm building that was probably demolished at this point. All information is uniquely created unless stated otherwise and will then be "I'm okay, I just hurt my knee; I bumped my head too, really hard.". My head was pulsing with pain. There was no way we were moving this one, so we got out and turned on the bright headlights in the hopes that it would illuminate the area in front of us. Round Valley Farmhouse is the perfect country getaway. Initially, I was going to seek out his family in order to send my condolences, but it wasn't as if Mr. Mays and I were best friends or anything like that; so, I refrained. Broken Bow, Nebraska 68822 P: 308-872-2424 F: 308-872-2425 TF: 1-800-354-6340 Contact Us Central City Rehearsal Dinners, Bridal Showers & Parties. I looked around the walls that sat in front of me; they were smooth cement. The worst part, Mr. Mays told us, was that the light bulbs continuously flickered, sometimes acting like a strobe light and making it very difficult to move through the winding and unstable hallways. The group enjoyed my stories for the most part, "The Showers" being the mutual favorite among the partygoers. All Filters. "Halloween is my favorite holiday, and I want to share with you exactly why I love it so much." It budged, but didn't open. He told the remaining few that he and his friends opened that cellar door, releasing a smell that he only described as "the most putrid thing my senses have ever experienced." There were sections where the boys had to almost crouch in order to pass. "Just get me out of here." Staff have reported voices in heated arguments in the southeastern corner of the building near closing time. As he left the room, he made a point to emphasize that he could make out several more shower heads on the wall near the single, dim light bulb. I searched for a cut anywhere on my forehead, but couldn’t find one. I took a deep breath, buried my head in my hands, and said "Steve, why didn't you just fucking open the door?". His words were slurred, or my hearing was messed up; we were both sufficiently blitzed at this point. Mays?" But now, I cared; he was a real person to me, not just an idol anymore. It was Steve, I was certain. The silence that followed was uncomfortable. The child was extremely frail, like the pictures that people might see of a holocaust victim. But now, sitting in a dark basement in the middle of Nebraska, I felt something that I hadn't felt in a long time; it couldn't even be summed up in the word "fear". It was out of place and oddly pristine, but it wasn't the location of The Showers. The way that Mr. Mays had told that story and the detail that he included in it, left me feeling like we didn't get the whole story. 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