In the Georgia backcountry, jealousy between two sisters centers on a glittering wedding ring. After death parts them, one sister takes what she has always coveted from the other’s cold hand — only to learn that some of the dead do not rest quietly, and some wrongs demand to be answered.

Audio Story

Have you ever taken somethin’ that didn’t really belong to you?  

Let me tell you what happened long ago to two sisters named Martha and Jennie.

Martha and Jennie grew up in Washington, Georgia – a quaint Southern town lined with beautiful, ornate homes, just west of Augusta.  They grew up just as close as they could be, sharing everything between them.  As young girls, they never even kept secrets from one another.  And the idea of one having less than the other was just unimaginable.

But as the twentieth century began, and the girls became of marrying age, they became a bit more competitive – especially when it came to male suitors.  You see, Jennie had attracted the gaze of the local bank manager, from a family drenched in old money dating back generations.  

For a time, both sisters openly flirted with the young man.  He was well aware of the sister’s mutual interest and relished all the attention he was getting.  But in the end, he asked Jennie to be his wife.

So for the first time, Martha kept a secret even her sister didn’t know about.  Martha was jealous of Jennie’s romance with the banker.  Not that she thought he was handsome – far from it, she found him rather bookish and boring.  But he had money, lots of it, and was smart with finances.  

So Jennie always wore the nicest clothes, smelled like a French perfumery, lived in Washington’s nicest house and sported the prettiest diamond wedding ring outside of Atlanta.  Oh, how Martha just loved that fancy ring!  She loved the way it sparkled brilliantly in the light, and could only imagine what it would look like on her finger, about the same size as Jennie’s.  

‘Course, Martha didn’t say anything to Jennie.  And that jealousy festered for years.  Until one day, tragedy struck.  

Like many smaller towns at that time, Washington was hit hard by typhoid fever.  Jennie’s husband got infected and passed away painfully in the night.  Martha briefly became the supportive sister again, insisting the grief-stricken Jennie move in with her for company.

But it wasn’t long before those jealousies bubbled to the surface once again.  Martha made nasty remarks about Jennie having money, and her fancy French perfume smellin’ up the house.  Jennie was shocked and saddened by her sister’s greed.  She had always been generous with Martha.  It wasn’t her fault Martha was a spinster, whispered about by the chattering ladies in town.

But she noticed the way Martha would stare at her ring.  She’d be willing to give her sister almost everything – but not that ring.  As far as she was concerned, it was going straight into the grave with her.

One day Jennie had finally had enough.  She grabbed her belongings and moved to Augusta to live with her eldest son.  And the once inseparable sisters ceased all contact.

———

Years passed until one day, Martha received an urgent telegram from her nephew in Augusta.  To her dismay, she read that Jennie had succumbed to typhoid just like her husband.  Martha then made the long ride along bumpy, dirt roads to the funeral home in Augusta.

There, for the first time in years, she saw her sister again.  At her nephew’s request, she chose Jennie’s nicest dress, and began to prepare her for burial. Suddenly, she spotted the ring, sparkling brilliantly in the lamp light.  Martha looked around the room, gently slid that diamond ring off Jennie’s finger and slowly closed the casket. “She don’t need it no more”, she figured.

After Jennie’s burial, Martha traveled back home. She was right proud of her new diamond ring. She loved to watch it sparkle on her hand.  The town ladies had noticed, whispering amongst themselves with disgust.  But Martha didn’t care, she had finally gotten what she wanted.  She rarely removed it, even sleeping with it on.

———

But a few nights later, Martha woke suddenly in her dark bedroom, smelling that pungent French perfume.  A chill wind blew into the room.  She turned slowly to look towards her bedroom door.  

Floating in the hallway was a glowing blue figure. It groaned in agony, then called out in a disembodied voice, as if from the bottom of a well: “Martha!  Oh, Martha!”

Martha was scared half to death. She knew that voice. The blue figure was the ghost of Jennie.

“Jennie?” she answered,  “Wh..what is it?”

“It’s so c-c-cold down here.  The ground is so cold…”

Trembling violently, Martha pulled the covers up to her chin.  “What do you want, Jennie?  Answer me!”

“It’s so cold…” she replied again, the blue light frozen in the doorway.  Then it vanished.

These hauntings continued night after night until finally, Martha decided to seek out some help.  She had heard of a decrepit old man named William in town. He was long rumored to have spent time in the Georgia State Sanitarium, and shunned by the locals.  But he also claimed to know a thing or two about ghosts and the afterlife.  So Martha figured her inquiry was safe with him, another town pariah.

On the man’s rickety front porch, choked with kudzu and rotting furniture, Martha told him about the hauntings. And how she didn’t know what the ghost wanted.  The old man smiled and asked, “Have you invited her in an’ asked her?”

That hadn’t dawned on Martha. She was normally too scared to carry on a long conversation.  So that night, when she felt the same chill wind, smelled that French perfume and saw the glowing blue light, she blurted out “Come on in, Jennie.  Tell me what’s botherin’ you.”

With that the blue light drifted with a gust of bone-chilling wind into the bedroom.  It drifted haphazardly around the far corners of the room.  With a voice noticeably more agitated it called, “Martha, where is it?”

“Where’s what?” Martha stammered, knowing the answer.

“My ring,” wailed the ghost.  “Give me back my ring!” 

Martha slid her ring hand slowly under her back.  “G’way ghost, I ain’t got nothing of yers.  You was buried with your ring.”

“No I wasn’t!  My ring! I want my riiiiiinnngg!” the ghost answered with a high pitched screech.

Martha rolled over quickly and yanked the covers over her head. “I told you to g’away!  Now git!”  She waited for that perfume fragrance to die out. For the ghost to simply leave like it normally did.  But instead the smell grew even stronger, enveloping the room.  After a moment of silence, Martha slowly pulled the covers back down.

And there was the blue light, floating right beside her bed!  So close she swore she saw the agonized, skeletal face of her sister, staring straight through her.  Frozen in terror, she didn’t resist as she felt the covers ripped off her bed and her ring hand yanked out from under her back.  Agonizing jolts of pain shot through her body.  She swore she heard the ghost scream:

“Give me back MY RING!!!!”

Then she passed out.

——

Martha wasn’t seen in town for days after that.  William was curious to see if she’d followed his advice about the ghost.  So he paid her a visit one afternoon.

He was shocked to find her sitting lifelessly on her front porch. Like his home, it was now filled with junk and trash.  She stared aimlessly at the ground, dressed in filthy nightclothes, her eyes bloodshot.

And he saw the beautiful ring was gone – along with her entire hand.

So friends, try not to waste your energy coveting stuff. And don’t steal! ‘Cause stealing will only come back to haunt you.

-THE END-

Story Credits

Audio version directed by Craig Dominey

Storyteller: Nancy Riggs

Story adapted from folklore by Nancy Riggs and Craig Dominey

Audio Production: Henry Howard