It’s almost spooky season so in honour of that Dear Readers, I’m here to share a tiny tidbit of my first ever real and well…weird haunted experience here in Toronto.

You know, there’s something about late-night walks that are supposed to be peaceful, like you’re supposed to reconnect with the universe or whatever. That night in Toronto was supposed to be just that a simple stroll. Nothing complicated. Just two friends walking, laughing, and maybe getting a little philosophical as we looked at the city lights and figured out life.

It all started innocently enough. My friend and I decided to stretch our legs with a leisurely walk from the Distillery District to Riverdale Park in Toronto. Lovely, right? It’s a beautiful spot behind a hospital (which, in hindsight, should’ve been the first red flag I mean, hospitals, right?). The air was filled with nature’s essence, the sky was clear, and the energy was perfect. One side a nice, peaceful park, and the other side, a forest that looked like it could be the perfect spot for every bad decision ever made but underneath the bridge, the water was doing its thing, reflecting the beautiful city lights in this calm silence. It should’ve been a beautiful, Instagram worthy moment. Yeah, well, welcome to my life.

We were having one of those carefree moments when, suddenly, the giggles randomly stopped. My eyes caught something weird. I glanced over at my friend, and guess what? He saw it too. Emerging from the forest was what looked like a shadow. No, not just any shadow the shadow of a little girl. Like, I’m sorry, but why does it always have to be a little girl? Why can’t ghosts just mind their own business and haunt mansions or, I don’t know, old creepy dolls? Why parks?! The one place that’s supposed to be peaceful?!

This shadow didn’t just stand there being creepy (I wish that was it) It was way too quiet, way too slow, and way too freaking creepy. And before I could even process what was happening, I realized this shadow wasn’t just a trick of the light it was shaped like a little girl walking towards us. At this point, all logic went out the window when this little shadow disappeared. Right. In. Front. Of. Us.

Gone. Just yeets itself out of existence. Now, the first thought in my head? “Oh no. That child just yeeted themselves into the water?” So, we leaned over the railing to see what we were sure would definitely be a crime scene. But guess what? Nothing. Not even a ripple in the water. No girl, no ghost, just two fully grown adults, frozen with fear and a creeping sense of impending doom. My brain was doing mental gymnastics trying to make sense of what just happened. Like, “Okay, maybe it was just light? Maybe we imagined it?” But no. We both saw it. We both saw that shadow child walk right up to us and then just… disappear.

The thing is, when you experience something like that, you expect to scream or cry. But we didn’t do any of those things. No, we were too scared for that. We did what any rational scared person would do in that moment. We ran. And I don’t mean a light jog. No, we bolted like our lives depended on it, praying and hoping that whatever we’d seen wasn’t going to chase us into the next dimension.

For the next hour, neither of us spoke. We didn’t dare break the silence. We didn’t look at each other. We didn’t even breathe properly. The silence between us was thick with fear and confusion, and honestly, neither of us had the emotional energy to process what had just happened. The only thought running in my head was, “If I don’t talk about it, maybe it didn’t actually happen.” But deep down, we both knew we’d just experienced something that couldn’t be explained away. Something that would haunt us emotionally, at least for the rest of our lives. Eventually, we made it back to a normal civilization, but the night had already been ruined. No more deep talks, no more laughs. Just two traumatized friends, clutching onto whatever was left of their sanity.

The moral of this story is, keep away from creepy parks behind hospitals and Take this as your sign to maybe stick to the daytime walks. Or, you know, just avoid haunted bridges with water, forests, and questionable energy in general. Because nothing says, “I’ll never sleep again,” like seeing a little girl’s shadow walk out of the darkness, only to disappear into thin air.

And if someone ever finds the shred of peace and sanity I left on that bridge, feel free to return it. I’ll be waiting , in a very well-lit room.