A Ghostly Appearance | Teen Ink

A Ghostly Appearance

March 20, 2010
By Anonymous

I always wondered how it would end. Whether it was crucial or not I still wondered. But now that it’s happened I don’t know whom to blame; her or myself. If only I hadn’t gone into the attic, then this wouldn’t have happened. And so it all began with one trip to the attic. Here is my story.

“Make sure the doors are locked, don’t let anyone in the house, and don’t answer the phone!” my mom called from the bottom of the stairs.
I quickly walked to the top of them “I know mom. You tell me this every time you go away.”
“It doesn’t hurt to tell you again,” she said. She started walking away. “Don’t go into the attic and no people over! Love you!”
“Love you too mom!” I called back.
The door shut and I was alone. A house to myself at last. I ran to my room and put in my new J-Sean CD and turned it up as loud as it would go. The song ‘Down’ featuring Lil Wayne filled the house.
I jumped around for a while, thinking of nothing else to do. Then I thought about the attic. My parents didn't like anyone up there so now was the perfect opportunity to do it.
I ran out of my room and up to, the attic, adrenaline pulsing through my veins. My mom always told me never to go up into the attic because it was so called “haunted”. She had said that someone had died up there but she never told me whom. No one knew the cause of death besides that it was not a normal death. No one likes to talk about it though, not even me.
I got to the attic door and hesitated. Did I really want to disobey my parents? I thought about it. Who didn't? I shrugged and turned the knob, expecting it to be locked. But it wasn’t. That’s weird, I thought. If they didn’t want me up here, why would they leave it unlocked? I walked in and turned the lights on. I walked around for a couple of minuets and found nothing. All that was up here was rusted pipes, dusty old furniture, some silverware, and a whole bunch of other useless objects.
I snickered. Oh my gosh this is scary! I thought sarcastically. What is so scary about an attic with a whole bunch of rusted metal and knives that couldn’t be used? I shrugged.
I went to leave, but the lights started to flicker and I saw a dim movement in one of the dark corners. Wow that’s the weirdest thing I’ve seen so far, I thought to myself, joking around again. I wasn't sure how my parents ever though the attic was creepy, I actually thought it was really cool.
Then it sounded like there was whisperings all around me but when I turned around, there was no one there. Then the lights went out and I was standing in complete darkness. My joking face fell immediately. This is not funny, I thought. I heard whisperings again, but only this time they were closer to me. Then it felt like there was a hand on my shoulder, but when I went to shake it off, it had already gone. When I thought it couldn’t get any creepier, the attic door shut, and then locked. But the problem is that it could only be unlocked from the outside, which I thought was really stupid.
I started to get scared. I didn’t like this, I didn't like it one bit. If I couldn’t get out then how am I supposed to ask mom and dad why the attic door wasn’t locked? Suddenly a voice spoke, interrupting my thoughts.
“Why have you disturbed my peacefulness?” said the voice. I couldn’t speak. I was completely frozen in place. I could tell the voice was male but that was it, since I was too afraid to speak.
“At least give me your name boy,” said the voice.
“Jack.” I heard myself say at a whisper.
“Ah… you dare disrupt me Jack? You must be brave.”
“ I didn’t know you were up here,” I choked, still at a whisper.
“Hmm… exploring then?”
“Yes.” I said. He moved out of the darkness, and into the moonlight that shone brightly on the attic floor. He was see-through. He’s a ghost, I thought. I didn’t believe in ghosts, but here one was, staring right back at me. This cant be happening, I thought, returning to my current thought. Ghosts aren’t real. Maybe I’m just dreaming and ill wake up at any moment. But when I didn’t I began to get even more scared. It felt like I was in a horror movie and I was about to die. I hoped that wouldn't be the case.
He crossed his arms. Could ghosts do that? “Well I’m impressed. You are the first person who hasn’t screamed upon meeting me. Your parents did tell you why not to ever come up here, didn’t they? No?” he asked as I shook my head. “Well, that’s different. Everyone else who lived here has, and no one has ever come up here. Except the occasional few, of course. But other than that, no one has dared come up here. Not since what I did to an unfortunate boy.” He finished talking, a small smile on his lips.
I found my voice. “What happened to him? What was his name?”
“Well… his name was Austin. I did hope he wouldn't die, but he gave me no choice in the end. I gave him three choices: he could either jump off this three-story building, I could throw him off, or I personally could kill him. He said that it was impossible for a ghost to kill a human but he was wrong. He didn’t ask how I would kill him, so I chose the most painful. I broke close to every bone in his body. No blood or nothing; a clean kill. After I broke most of his bones, I crushed his heart.” He finished talking and I just stood there in shock. What if he did that to me?
Trying desperately to change the subject I said, “So… what do you do for a living?” I glanced at him to see if he was angry, but he wasn’t.
“Nothing.” He said simply. “I only kill people when the come up here.” Well that didn't help me feel any better.
“So… so does that mean you’re going to kill me too?” I asked.
“Maybe. Most people can’t even keep me talking. One person has survived so far. I’m glad she kept me talking though. I don’t like killing women.”
“Who was she?”
“Her name is Isabell. Good girl. Smart too. Good soccer player from what I’ve seen.” I thought about that name for a while. Why did it seem so familiar? That name rung a bell, but why?Did I know her?
“Did she mention anyone to you? Like if she had a class with some people from Middle School? Like if she had any problems in classes?” I asked. I wondered if she was in one of my classes or something.
“Hmm… I don’t think so.” He stopped, thinking hard. After a moment or two he said, “but the more I think about it, she did mention someone, and she did have problems in a class or two.”
“Do you remember what class and who it was?” I asked.
“Of course I do.” He looked offended I moved back a step. I really didn’t want to upset a ghost after what he told me he had done. “She mentioned you, and she always had trouble with Algebra and Civics. Why? Do you know her?”
“Yes! I remember now. I helped her with algebra because she didn’t understand some of the stuff we did.” I paused. “What did she say about me?”
He hesitated. “Well… it wasn’t very nice.” He paused. “She said she hated you so much, she wished you would die.” He paused again, and looked out the window. “Actually, she said she would come visit me sometime. Tonight, I think she said.”
“How would she get in? The only way into the attic is up the stairs.”
“You didn’t check every spot in the house, did you?”
“Yes we did! We double and triple checked the house to make sure we didn’t miss anything. There was no passageways in or out of the attic.”
“Well… you can tell her that,” he said looking out the window again, “because here she comes now.” He went back into the darkness, bent down and dusted something off, and lifted. He waited a minuet or two and the another voice spoke. It was a girl from what I could tell.
“Hello Connor. How are you?” said the female voice.
“I’m good, as always, how are you today?”
“I’m good,” She said to the ghost, who’s the name was apparently Connor.
“Isabell?” I said, shocked that she was in my attic. I hadn’t seen Isabell in so long that I had almost forgotten her voice. Though I don’t know how I could have because we dated once. Though it didn’t last that long because she decided she didn’t like me as much as she thought she did.
“Hello Jack. I thought you might have come up here. At least, now that you have the house to yourself for a while,” she said. I was confused. How did she know that my parents were out? Did she watch the house or something? It didn't make any sense.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
She frowned, pulling herself up so that she was sitting on the floor. “What… am I not allowed to visit my dear friend once in a while? Didn’t Connor tell you I was coming?” She stood up, dusting herself off. Connor went to give her a hand but she waved him off, and he backed up.
“I did tell him. He just didn’t believe me. Either that or he just didn’t pay attention.” Connor said shrugging.
“Probably both.” Isabell said. “In school he used to just not pay attention.”
“There has got to be more reasons than just that.” I said. “If you know him so well and come here often, you could have seen me.”
“Why would I want to see you?”
“Because we haven’t seen each other in a long time. It’s been, what, almost two years?”
“So?”
“You didn’t come here to see one of your friends then?”
“I did, but it’s just not you. I have lived here before you know. I probably know this house better than anyone that has lived here, and there has been a lot of people that come and go in this house.”
“How would you know? People last longer in this house than you might know.”
“How do I know? Well people don’t last no longer than five or six months because this house is so called haunted.”
“How long did you live in this house then?”
“Longer than anyone. We lived here for two years before my parents decided that the house was a little too creepy for them.” She laughed. “They didn’t like it because every time I was in the attic Connor did something that made the house shake some. I won’t tell you what we did though.
“Anyway, we were the first ones to live in this house, so we know every passageway in and out of the house. Including the attic.” She turned to Connor and started talking in Spanish. I don’t understand Spanish, but when people talk in a different language, there must be stuff that they don’t want people to know, but I just let them talk. Later, I had it translated for me.
“So… have you killed anyone since I was gone? Hopefully the ones I asked.”
“Yes… all but one.” Connor looked at me then back at Isabell.
“Yeah I wondered about that. Why isn’t he dead?”
“Well, he seems like a good guy. Why don’t you give him another chance?”
“No. I tell you who to kill, and you kill them. No exceptions.”
“I could always kill him right now. I would gladly give him choices and know which one he’ll pick.”
“He could always choose a different path, you know. There are enough things in this attic to kill a person.” Isabell said. I have stayed out of this too long, I thought.
“Have you guys forgotten I was here?” I said
“Jack,” she said, “can’t two people talk, and it not include you?”
“Everything has to include me these days. Or else I don’t know what’s going on.”
“So? Connor and I are talking and it can’t include you.” She snapped. She has changed a lot, I thought. She turned back to Connor, and returned to talk in Spanish.
“I want him dead. He was the last person I ordered you to kill, and you haven’t,” she said with anger now in her voice.
“I’m trying but he keeps talking. He…”
“You mean you keep talking. You need to remember that I know every word you say to people. Whether they talk or not, if I want them dead, you kill them. If you don’t, I’d know.”
“Bit he seems like a good guy. He plays soccer, so do you. You guys are alike in a few ways.”
“Alike or not, I want him dead. If you don’t kill by tonight, then I’ll have to kill him. And I know you don’t like my way of killing people.” She paused. “And it doesn’t matter if we’re alike in a few ways because for one we’ve already dated and it didn’t turn out and two, just because he likes soccer doesn’t mean I would ever go out with him again.” She finished talking, and stormed down the trap door.
“So, what was that all about? What did you guys say?”
“Nothing you need to know.” Connor said quietly.
“I know you guys must have said something I’ll need top know.” I pressed.
“There’s NOTHING. Get it yet? She just needed to update me on some things.” He was starting to get angry, but I didn’t pay attention to it.
“There must be though. She sounded angry some of the time, and part of it sounded like it involved me. And what about when you looked at me, then back at Isabell? You guys were talking in Spanish most of the time, so I couldn’t understand what you guys said.” I was really frustrated now. There was something that they weren’t telling me that involved me. But I had no idea what. Connor, I could tell, was furious.
“There’s nothing going on that you need to know about! Nothing! She had to update me on some things that I had missed. She has filled me in about everything that’s going on right now, because I can’t leave the attic! And she didn’t even mention you! We looked at you because she wondered if you would be good enough to scrimmage her! Happy now? That’s what you missed.”
I knew I should have stopped myself from asking what they were talking about, I thought. But part of what he said didn’t make sense. He said that they didn’t mention me, but yet she wondered if I was a good enough soccer player? That didn’t make much sense. I waited for him to calm down before speaking to him.
“So… so she wanted to know if I was good enough for her?”
“Yeah… she is a really good player if you watch her. Fast from what I’ve seen.” He replied, calming down a little. I’ve never seen a ghost get so mad before. Well, this is also the first time I’ve ever seen a ghost in the first place, I though jokingly.
“How do you watch her play, if you can only be in dark places? And I thought you couldn’t leave the attic? Why can’t you leave the attic?” I bit my tongue. I had to find a way to shut up.
“She plays down there.” He pointed out the window. He walked over to it, and pointed again to a field. “She goes down there to play because she knows that I like o watch her,” he sighed and looked down. “I can’t tell you why I can’t leave the attic, she told me I wasn’t allowed to say anything.” He must really miss the outside world, I thought.
“Why, is she you boss or something?”
“Close,” he said grimly. I saw him wince in the darkness. I wondered if he was going to regret it later or something, if that was why he winced.
Just then I realized it was starting to get light outside. Maybe I could get out of here soon, I thought. How long have I been up here? I thought. Two hours? Three? I backtracked on time. What time had I come up here? About 2:30, three o’clock in the morning? So, yeah, three hours or so up here and it would be getting light outside.
“Well… you made it through the night without dying. I’m actually surprised you stayed alive. Most people don’t.”
“Yeah… I wondered about that. I thought that you killed everyone that comes up here?”
“I can only kill people during the night. So if people come up here during the day, I can’t do anything.” The lighter it got outside, the happier I became. Then all of a sudden the trap door burst open and someone stepped through.
“ISABELL!” exclaimed Connor. Wasn't she just up here?
“I warned you Connor. I warned you and you didn’t listen to me. Shouldn’t you have just done as I told you, and do it? Or is it just to hard for you?” she was really angry. Was she back so soon? It felt like she just left. Of wait, she basically did, seems how it was about twenty minutes ago. Or less.
“Isabell, listen to me…”
“Why should I listen to you? You couldn’t have killed one more person before I set you free? I asked you to kill one more person, and he isn’t dead yet. If you don’t kill him right now, I will.” Since they weren’t talking in Spanish, I could understand every word they said.
“Kill who?” I said. Then realization kicked in. “You want to kill me? Why?” she laughed a cold, hard laugh.
“Because I hate you. I always have. I was better than you were, and you laughed in my face when I made one mistake. Now I’m here for my revenge. I tell Connor who to kill, and he kills them. For some reason he thought he could get away with you. He’s never disobeyed my orders before you came. You want to know the reason the house shook when I was up here? That was because I was making him. When I finally succeeded and stayed in the house a little while longer, my parents decided to move.
“But now that he’s disobeyed me for a second time and because I know he won’t do it, I’ll kill you. But I won’t give you a choice.” She started toward me, and I noticed that something was glistening in her hand. It was a knife. Good thing I had mine with me. I pulled mine out, ready for her to attack. She stopped, noticing I had pulled a blade, and let out an evil laugh that sent chills down my spine.
“You think you have a chance in killing me? I don’t think so. Injure slightly, maybe. But not kill.”
“Who said I was going to kill you?”
“What… do you expect Connor to kill me? He can’t kill me. I made him. If he tried to kill me, he would destroy himself in the process.” She started toward me again, and I backed up toward the locked door. I stopped by it, and looked down. Thinking of what to say next. That was when she attacked. She swung her arm around, aiming for my head. I blocked it. She tried again, still I blocked it. She got my arm instead. It stung at first, but then, it could have been worse.
It seemed like we were fighting for hours, but it had only been about 10 minuets. She’s not that bad, I thought. She had cut me a lot on my arms, and a little on my legs. How she had got me there I wasn’t sure. She was barely bleeding at all. I got her on one of her arms, but the cut wasn’t that deep. She went for the head again, but I blocked. But what I didn’t realize was that she had pulled another blade.
When I was blocking her attack to the head, she had swung her arm around, and drove the blade deep into my chest. I didn’t even have time to block. She stepped back, pleased with herself. I fell to my knees, desperate to live. I knew I wouldn’t live, but I could hope for something. Connor was back in the darkness, in shock I’m guessing. The last thing I remember was the smile on her face, the joy of it made me feel sick to my stomach, even though I was dying. I remember saying I was sorry to her, and then I remembered nothing else.

So that is my story on what happened. Not the way I wanted to die but it works just the same. My good friend Isabell turning into an evil person all because I made fun of her when she made a mistake. I know I shouldn’t have done it and now that I’ve been dead for a year, I realize I should have never made fun of her. If I hadn’t, none of this would have ever happened.


The author's comments:
I love to write fiction stories and I wrote this one a while ago and then touched it up some later. This is only a fraction of what I can do so I hope you like it.

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