A question about hitch-hiking ghosts.

[seanan_mcguire]

Almost everybody's heard the basic hitch-hiking ghost story—dude (usually) gives a girl a ride home, and later finds out that she was actually dead way before she got into the car—but there are some really fascinating regional variants. So here is my question for you:

How does the story go? Is she a victim, a predator, or just a confused kid trying to go home? Is seeing a hitcher like seeing the Bean Nighe—you're just doomed to die now? How does it go?

To be clear, I'm not asking you to make something up; I want to know how, in your part of the country or the world, the story goes. Or, if this is the first time you've encountered the idea (outside Disney's Haunted Mansion), I'd like to know that, too.

Curious cat is curious.

Comments

[lysystratae.livejournal.com]

ROFL... ok, then. My aunt lives in an old Victorian mansion in Philly that's haunted 14 ways to Sunday. Growing up, I spent a month or so every summer there (my brother did, too, once he was older).
The house has servant's stairs leading from the hall just outside the kitchen to the second floor just outside the library. I loved those stairs - it was narrow and dark and windy and nifty - and I used them all the time. You could sometimes feel a cool breeze on the stairs, as if someone passed you in a hurry, which was odd since there wasn't anywhere for it to come from.
When I was 10, I was coming down the stairs and about halfway down I slipped and started to fall, face-first. There weren't any handrails or anything to grab on to, and with the curve at the bottom I was sure to smash head-first into the wall before tumbling the rest of the way to the hall below. If I didn't break my neck, I'd still be badly injured (altho all that actually went thru my mind was 'oh shit this iss gonna hurt').
Then I felt hands on the front of my shoulders. They caught me, and pushed me back up until I was standing again, and then the breeze went by.
Eventually, we learned that one of the maids that lived and worked there for the original owners had fallen down those same stairs and broken her neck. She still travels those stairs (hence the breeze), and if she hadn't caught me, I'd probably be just as dead as she is.
I was always thankful the ghosts of that house like me :)

[seanan-mcguire.livejournal.com]

Wow.

That's awesome. Also, good on you not being dead.

[lysystratae.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I kinda like the not being dead part, too :)