Westbury Pool is more than just a community swimming spot — it’s a place where history clings to the walls like condensation, and silence doesn’t always mean you’re alone.

First opened in 1887, this Victorian pool has seen generations come and go. But some say not everyone leaves. Shadows have been spotted darting along the edge of the water. Wet footprints appear on dry floors. And in the stillness of early mornings or late-night lockups, staff have heard the unmistakable sound of splashing — when the pool is completely empty.

There are whispers of a tragic drowning, an event that may have imprinted itself into the very fabric of the space. While no records confirm the tale, the unease near the deep end persists. Some lifeguards have reported feeling watched, especially near the old filter room, where the lights sometimes flicker without warning.

The atmosphere shifts when the crowds leave. The echoes stretch too long. The air grows cold. And that lingering sense of being followed? It doesn’t always stay at the water’s edge.

Whether it’s memory, mystery, or something far more malevolent, Westbury Pool holds more than water. It holds secrets.