Don’t Rock the Chair

A fictional tale based on Appalachia folklore by Dakota Baker, RealWV

As a teenager, I always enjoyed exploring abandoned houses with my friends. There wasn’t much else to do in my small town. However, there were plenty of houses that sat empty for years, waiting for visitors.

My friends and I mostly stuck to exploring houses during the day. My mother was always worried we’d wind up hurt if we went after dark. Occasionally, we’d plan a night to sneak out. After all, it was more thrilling after the sun set. 

Never vandalizing or destroying, the intention was to gain a small understanding into the past lives the houses accommodated.  

On this particular night we were exploring an old farm house which had sat empty for over 50 years. As I walked into the house I noticed an old rocking chair that had been collecting dust for years, visibly undisturbed. I ran my hand over the dusty backrest then pulled it towards me and released it so it would begin rocking. I began flowing from room to room, examining abandoned belongings. The most interesting find of the night was an old doctors kit, filled with what could only be described as medieval tools. 

After finishing our exploration my friends and I met in what we assumed was the living room to gather our things and leave. 

As we were walking out the front door, I turned back and noticed the rocking chair from earlier. Rocking back and forth ever so slowly, as if someone was sitting there. A shiver ran down my spine as I quickly closed the door and ran to catch up with my friends. 

A week had passed since our last exploration, but there was an uneasy feeling which had settled into my bones and I wasn’t able to shake.

I always felt like I was being observed. I had noticed shadows moving out of the corner of my eye, but even when I would turn my head nothing was there. 

One night I woke abruptly from my sleep. The air in my room felt cold and thick with a presence. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and slowly scanned the space surrounding me, until my eyes reached the slightly cracked door. 

Through the crack, I could see a partial silhouette. It stood there for hours, watching. 

I don’t remember falling asleep that night. When I woke the next morning my eyes shot to the door. But nothing was on the other side. Only rays of sun shining through the window illuminating an empty hallway. 

I shrugged it off and went about my day, forgetting about the incident by nightfall. Until I woke up to the same feeling of heaviness in the room… and there it was. I watched the figure for hours as it stood there, perfectly still. Until sleep overcame me again.  

This has been a nightly occurrence for the last 13 years. I’ve seen a psychiatrist who called it sleep paralysis. I’ve even moved since then. It still appears every night. Sometimes in my doorway, sometimes at the edge of my bed. Only watching. 

Authors note: In Appalachian folklore, rocking an empty chair is said to bring bad luck as it invites spirits, like ghosts or other malicious entities, to come sit. The superstition is that an empty rocking chair should remain still, because it leaves a spot open for something unseen. Some also believe that if a rocking chair starts moving on its own, a spirit has already taken the seat and is bringing misfortune or even death to the household.