Louisiana hag

Art-n-Sewl is having a Spook-A-Rama contest. Lots of scary stories and Halloween fun.


Another scary story for your Halloween hauntings.


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In the mid 80's, while on a trip to Mexico, I bought lots of cheap Mexican souvenirs for all my friends. One was a genuine leather whip to give as a "gag". The whip was never gifted and I became the whip keeper.

A few years later, when I was living in a tiny, tin can of a trailer in a tiny Louisiana town with my boyfriend, Chris, that whip somehow found its way into the decor or our new digs, the valance decoration over our bedroom window.

My story really begins early one morning after Chris went off to work. I woke up early around 7 am, used the bathroom, and since I was then living a life of leisure, I wanted more sleep.

I crawled back into bed and closed my eyes, my arms on the pillow overhead. Right away, I felt a pressure on top of me. It felt like someone was sitting on me and pinning my arms down, trying to suffocate me.

I half expected Chris to be playing a trick on me, coming home early and sneaking up on me.

I opened my eyes but there was nothing there. I could not move a muscle or scream. In fact, the only things I could move were my eyes. I willed my body to flee, to scream, anything. It felt as if, whatever evil was holding me down, was trying to enter my body, to possess my being. I was terrified. My eyes darted about the room looking for something or someone to help me, I finally started saying the Lord’s Prayer over and over in my mind until it was gone. I immediately jumped up and ran from the room. Twenty five years later, I would learn that this is called "riding the hag".

About 2 months later, the exact same experience happened. This time, as I was looking around the room, my eye caught a glimpse of that Mexican whip hanging over my head.
After reciting the Lord’s Prayer in my mind, this entity loosened its grip.

I immediately removed the whip and stuffed it in the garbage can outside, determined that it was the cause of my torment.
Chris found it and thought his brother might want it. Against my better judgement, I agreed to hold it, but not in the bedroom.

I was not bothered again in this location.

Later that same year, after moving back to Florida, I started having these experiences again. Three or four, over a week’s time. Always in the same room, always while I was alone, always terrifying. I learned that Chris’s brother had put the whip in the closet of his bedroom, where we were temporarily staying. We left that house and these experiences stopped.

In fact, in over 20 years, I have never again experienced the horror and fear of "riding the hag".

Have you ever "ridden the hag"? Scary stuff.

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I promise, this is the last scary story!

Happy Halloween!