G is for Ghost #AtoZchallenge

Well, you can’t say that I don’t offer variety! Especially in writing quality. 😉

Halloween at a Haunted House

You didn’t believe in ghosts. Not really. Okay, some, but only when it was dark and cold and the leaves had all fallen from the trees.

You didn’t want to go with them to the old Hutchins house on Halloween. You knew bad things had happened there, sad things, really, and going there felt like exploitation. Billy insisted and Kira wanted to do anything Billy wanted to do and told you you were walking a really fine line. “Either you come with us or just find somewhere else to sit at lunch.”

But finding somewhere else to sit at lunch in your senior year was beside the point. You were about to be dumped from the “It” crowd.

The Hutchins house must have been beautiful back in the day. A weeping willow drapes its limbs dramatically at the side and you lean against its rigid bark, still questioning yourself.

“Are you coming?” Kira asks, her hand resting on Billy’s shoulder. Billy, who was until just this very second, your boyfriend.

You straighten up, raise your hand in a slight wave. “You all have a great night,” you say.

Kira yells something at you that you don’t hear, and you don’t think you really care until the next morning at school when you hear that Kira and Billy are missing.

They never returned to their homes. No one’s heard from them. No one can trace their cell phones. You vaguely recall something you read about Anna Hutchins, the lone survivor from a horribly deadly night.

“There were demons, ghosts, I don’t know what they were, but they needed life to feed from. Like vampires. Maybe that’s what they were . . .” Her voice trembled and ended in a sob that stayed with you long after you heard it.

Late the next night just as you turn over in bed, you hear scratching at your window and a sallow face that looks a lot like Billy’s asks you to let him in.

“As if, you two-timer,” you say as you open the window and toss a quart of holy water at him. He vaporizes into a fine fog.

As you settle back down to sleep, you wonder if Buffy ever felt this way and exactly what you’ll tell the sheriff’s deputy tomorrow. You yawn. Tomorrow is, after all, another day. And, no doubt Kira’s still out there somewhere. More holy water, you figure.


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