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The Empty Lot Next Door: The Start of the Candle Face Saga

Writer's picture: Arthur MillsArthur Mills
The Empty Lot Next Door: The Start of the Candle Face Saga

December 28, 2023


Let me share the story I wrote about in my award-winning, best-selling memoir, The Empty Lot Next Door. It all began in the 1970s, when my family moved from the city projects to a small house in Austin, Texas. Back then, I was just a kid called Ray, and I was immediately drawn to the empty lot next door—a strange and creepy place where a house once stood, leaving behind nothing but a gaping hole in the back.


Our new neighborhood was packed with kids, and we turned that lot into our own playground. But it wasn’t just an ordinary patch of dirt. The lot came with a grim tale that both intrigued and terrified me. The house that once stood there had burned down years earlier, and rumor had it that a little girl died in the fire. According to the local kids, her ghost still haunted the lot, targeting anyone daring (or foolish) enough to jump into that hole.


Being young and reckless, I couldn’t resist the challenge. I decided to test the ghost story, and it’s a decision I’ve regretted ever since. That’s when I first encountered the ghost I came to call “Candle Face,” named for her charred and haunting appearance. She invaded my dreams and even left handprints around the house in broad daylight.


But this wasn’t just a ghost story—it was about survival. It was about kids left to fend for themselves while their parents worked long hours. It was about the despair, desperation, and helplessness that came with facing both real and imagined horrors. Sibling abuse, bullying, and trauma were woven into the fabric of those days, leaving marks that shaped all of us in ways we didn’t fully understand at the time.


During my childhood, I witnessed Candle Face’s wrath take lives around me. One day, armed with newfound courage, I faced her in a standoff I can only describe as fierce and terrifying. In the end, I thought I had defeated her, banishing her back to hell—or so I believed.


After high school, I enlisted in the Army. My time there allowed me to see the world and sharpen my skills in analysis and investigation. In 2010, I published The Empty Lot Next Door, hoping it would bring closure—not just for me, but for my family and friends who had been touched by those events. For a time, it worked. But closure can be fleeting.


Now that I’m retired and back in Texas, I’ve revisited my past with fresh eyes. After more than three decades as an analyst and investigator, I’ve decided to see if Candle Face was real or just a figment of childhood trauma. If she’s real, is she still out there? And who was she before she died?


Over the years, I’ve received countless emails from people claiming to have encountered Candle Face. I used to brush them off. But being back here made me curious enough to follow up. Most of the people I contacted were too terrified to talk, fearing her revenge. However, one man—an 82-year-old named Mr. John Doe—stood out. Unlike the others, he seemed eager to share his experiences.


I met with him in October 2023 under strict conditions of anonymity. During our face-to-face interview, Mr. Doe shared his account of the fire that destroyed the house next to where I grew up. According to him, the fire started when the father spilled gasoline while cleaning a car carburetor in the kitchen. Tragically, a young boy named Paul died in that fire, his body later recovered from the wreckage.


This revelation clashed with what my friends and I had always believed as kids. We thought it was a young girl who had died, and that she had become Candle Face.


What struck me most about Mr. Doe wasn’t just the story of the fire—it was his belief in Candle Face. He described an encounter near the creek at Wilson and El Paso Streets in 1990 and offered me a chilling piece of advice: “It’s better to believe, just in case. It’s akin to an insurance policy. If you believe, you’re safe. If not, you might end up with a visit.”


Since that interview, my nights have turned into a surreal blur of psychedelic nightmares, like Mr. Doe’s stories. Candle Face appears to haunt my dreams, her voice sometimes rising in shouts, other times fading into whispers. I can’t make out what she’s saying, but the experience is unsettling. It feels like I’m trapped in a space between reality and illusion, surrounded by voices that argue, cry, and plead.


This experience leaves me questioning everything. Are these visions merely hallucinations, or are they messages from Candle Face herself? Whatever the case, it’s clear her story isn’t over.


Maybe she’s been waiting for me all along. Now, I’m searching for answers, hoping that understanding this nightmare might help me bring it under control—or finally bring it to an end.

 

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