I remember this story from middle school about this little girl that came out at night to play and it goes a little like this.

In a small town in Southern Maryland, there was a strange little girl called Ruthie. She was a peculiar child with jet-black hair and a pale complexion that made her look almost ghostly. It was said by the locals that she was born in a cabin deep in the woods, surrounded by mysterious and mystical creatures that no one had ever seen before.

As the story goes, Little Ruthie loved to play, but she never had any friends. Her parents, who were farmers, were often busy during the day and had little time for their daughter. So, Little Ruthie would spend most of her time in the fields, playing with the animals or wandering around the woods.

One night, a man was walking through the town when he heard a strange noise coming from the local playground. He looked over and saw a small figure running around the swings and slides. As he approached, he realized it was a little girl.

“Hello there, kid,” the man said.

Little Ruthie turned around and looked at him with her big, black eyes. “Hello, sir,” she said, smiling.

The man was surprised to see her out so late and asked her why she wasn’t at home. Little Ruthie just shrugged her shoulders and said that she was looking for a friend to play with.

The man, feeling sorry for the lonely girl, decided to stay and play with her. They swung on the swings, went down the slides, and even played hide and seek. As the night wore on, the man began to feel a little uneasy. There was something strange about Little Ruthie. Her laughter was a little too high-pitched, and her movements were a little too jerky.

Just as the man was about to suggest they go home, he saw something that made him freeze in terror. Little Ruthie’s eyes had turned completely black, and her once pale skin had become almost translucent. She was no longer the little girl he had been playing with. She was something else entirely.

The man ran as fast as he could back to his house, scared out of his mind. When he told his grandmother what had happened, she nodded knowingly. “That was Little Ruthie,” she said. “She comes out at night looking for a friend to play with.”

The man couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “But she’s a ghost,” his grandmother continued. “She’s been dead for over a hundred years.”

From that day on, the man never went near the playground again. But, on certain nights, he could still hear Little Ruthie’s high-pitched laughter, echoing across the deserted streets of La Plata.