Ghost

I never believed in ghosts until I was in second grade. My friends were talking about some experiences they had. I was just laughing not thinking much of it. I needed to use the bathroom, so I went. Boy would I regret that. I was in the stall when I heard footsteps, I saw this shadow of feet underneath the door and I thought that someone was out there, so I unlocked the stall and went out; the feet had a whole shadow body attached to them, but no person. I looked everywhere for an explanation of what this was attached to. It looked like a grown woman wearing a hood, and a dress. But no one was anywhere near the bathroom. I ran back to class terrified of what would happen if I stayed.



After the first contact, I had another experience just a few months later. We had made some drinks, the kind that you put powder into the water and mix it and we had put it into the fridge, before going to bed. The next morning when my mom came into my room, she was angry, and scared. I asked what was wrong.



“Did you get into the drinks last night?! The jar is broken and juice is everywhere!”



“No I never left my room. I swear. Check the cameras.”
My father had died two years ago; he had been home alone when he called my mother while we were out shopping screaming for help. I was about five. we rushed home to find my father’s body on the ground, and what looked like a break in. We had cameras installed as protection after that. We have never checked them; there had never been a reason to, but I didn’t want to get in trouble so I told her to check. I got out of bed and headed down stairs when my mother asked, “What happened to your neck?” I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror; there were scratch marks down my neck, and some on my chest. I shrugged it off and went down stairs. We got out the tapes from the camera in the kitchen, and put it into the TV.
What happened next would forever scar me. When we hit play, the jar was sitting on the counter, which was weird since I remember mom putting it away. We watched as it tipped itself over and spilled its contents, then, it flew against the wall shattering. Then nothing happened for the rest of the night. My mother and I looked at each other in complete shock.
“Did you hear any of that last night?” Asked my mother.
“No. Did you?” I asked.
“No.”

There was only silence for a long time, until it was time to go to school. I officially believed in ghosts. This would be proven again and again.

Nothing really big happened after that; you put something up that took just a little too long to fall; things being open that you knew you closed, until one day, my friend Kristy came to spend the night. That would never happen again. My mom was out of the house, and we were playing hide and seek. We were in fourth grade at this point. She was hiding in my crawl space, and I knew she was somewhere in my basement. I heard a loud bang and her scream. I ran over yelling her name, she said that something was in there, and that the bang was a rack falling over on its own. I tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. I called mom but no answer, not even a ring. Then we both heard something yell, it was neither of us, and finally, the door opened; Kristy got out of their; and the door slammed shut on its own. She was crying and she was pretty scratched up. I asked her what happened but she wouldn’t speak. She called her mom and went home; her parents tried to have us arrested, but Kristy let them know that it wasn’t our fault. They moved and to this day I still don’t know what went on in that crawl space. All I knew was that worse things would eventually happen.

I met a new best friend in middle school. Things calmed down again, but we heard things coming from the crawl space, loud noises, yelling, we would find random objects like keys, glasses, and even the sheets off of our beds. We just put the items back and ignored it. That is until, my friend Hannah came over. We both believed in ghosts. She always had, always will especially after this, then, we went fake ghost hunting, like on those TV shows, we got one thirty second clip before my camera phone died. So we just went back to her house, we watched it on the way back, but every time we saw it, this shadow would change; we were freaked out, but didn’t think much of it. We got back to her house; her parents were gone; we watched the video again; this time it looked like the shadow was wrapped around my shoulders; a few minutes later I opened my eyes. I was on the ground, on my back, with a pain going up and down my back.

“Help! Help!” Hannah screamed.

“I’m okay. I just need a second.” I stood up and went to the bathroom. When I lifted up my shirt, I had deep, bloody scratch marks down my back.

“How did you get those?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” I had fallen on carpet, but it wasn’t a rug burn. So I went home and didn’t tell my mom.



Hannah was constantly talking about this tapping noise she heard in her room at night. I thought it was just her younger brother playing a prank on her. We were at her house alone again, when we heard the tapping.



“Hannah stop. I know that it is you” I exclaimed. She lifted both hands up, and showed me her feet, the tapping continued. “Are your parents home?”



She checked her phone. “No they shouldn’t be. My brother has a soccer game.” We stood up and went towards the door; the tapping was there now; we opened the door and went just outside the door. BAM! Something hit the wall next to my head. We ran toward the door to outside, but the door wouldn’t open. We screamed as this figure of a boy appeared. He looked like he was maybe ten. We stared at him and he pointed up the stairs, there was the hooded women wearing the dress, neither of them were shadows this time. We looked at each other, then them.



“What do you want?!” I screamed, keeping a steady voice and a steady mind.



“Revenge!” Yelled the boy. A vase flew towards the wall by Hannah barely missing her head.



“For what?!” We exclaimed in unison.



“The murder of my husband! He died in this neighborhood, and was murdered by a man who lived in your house!” She pointed at me. I stood in front of Hannah and looked the woman in the eyes. She came at me, quickly and slammed me against the wall. I gasped feeling the wind knocked out of me. A cabinet flew open, and a plate smacked me in the face before I could move. I screamed and hit the floor. Hannah, crying, helped me up, I told her that I would make sure we made it out. (By we, I meant her.) I looked at the woman.



“You killed my father.” I accused.



She smirked, “Yes, he was alone much like my husband; he looked like the murderer, so we killed him. We did to him what he did to us.”



“My father never killed anyone. You killed an innocent man. And for that, you will never be at peace.” I was then lifted up by my ponytail, and I screamed in pain. Then, images of the murder of the husband flashed through my mind. He had been alone like she said, and he was in the kitchen, of this house when somebody broke in. This man did look a lot like my father, but he had green eyes; my father had blue. This was my grandfather, who had lived in the house before us; he disappeared before I was born. My grandfather approached the man, and he had a knife, he told the man to give him his money, the man said no, so my grandfather killed him.



“That wasn’t my father! It was my grandfather!” I screamed in agony. She dropped me, Hannah picked me up and we stood as far back as we could. The door flew open.



“One of you may leave.” Said the woman, and one of us did.



My name is Minnie, and I am dead; I let my friend escape and now haunt this world looking for the life that I never got to live, and seeking revenge on the man whose fault it is that I died. I haunt this neighborhood now, and forever.