Missing

On October 31st, 1951 I went missing. It all started at the beginning of the month of October. The crispy red and orange leaves stuck to the streets from the rain. I was Fourteen years old. At my school there were big spooky trees, with branches looking as if they were going to grab me, like the ones I’ve seen in scary movies. The rumor was going around school that “the girl killed her parents.” Nobody knew why, and a lot of people didn’t want to know. My parents and I lived in an old, creaky-looking house at the top of the hill that has been vacant for ten years. Ten years since the day of my death. Ten years ago I turned into a ghost. Rumor has it that that’s where the murder occurred. But ten years after my family and I lived in that house, a new family moved in. There was a little girl, and a mother, and a father. The little girl ran upstairs into my room. “Mom, dad, I found the room I want!” she shouted. I could hear her thoughts. She was so excited. The only thing she didn’t understand was the paint ladder leaning against the wall, when the walls weren’t even painted.

After the family got moved in, they were happy with their new home. That was until they started to experience strange things. Nobody knew I was still in the house. The mother thought she could see glimpses of me. The father could hear weird noises that he’d never heard before. The mother and father followed the little girl into her bedroom. She crawled into her small twin bed and said goodnight to her parents. Once the mother and father left, turned off the lights, and shut the door behind them, the girl was alone. At least she thought she was alone. Then she could hear my footsteps, loud and clear. I started to breathe deeply, so that she could hear me. The girl screamed. Her parents ran to her bedroom door and tried to open it, but it would not budge. I could hear her thoughts again. The girl was thinking she was in her worst nightmare, only this was real. She put her head under the covers of her bed.
I stopped at the edge of her bed. I kept breathing heavily, so that she knew I was still there. I whispered into her ear, and ordered her to tell her parents to go back into their rooms, it was only a nightmare. So she did what was asked of her. I told her I wasn’t going to hurt her, and that all I wanted was help. “I am a ghost stuck on earth,” I told her. She got out of her covers slowly and stared in my direction, saying nothing. I asked her to help me, and she did not speak. I left the room, and early the next morning the family made plans to move out of my house.
All I know about my death is that the last place people saw me before I went missing happened to be at the school in the middle of the night. I repeatedly threw my soccer ball at the tree next to me, and caught it as it rolled back slowly through the leaves. People thought I was waiting for something, or someone. The whole next week nobody knew where I had gone. My house looked empty. I never came back to school. People were beginning to wonder and worry about me.

About a week after Halloween, which was the day I went missing, three teenagers went to my house to see if the new rumors about the haunted house were true. They knocked, and nobody answered. They stepped inside to see the blood spots all the way up the stairs. An eerie chuckle came from the closet. A green mist came oozing out from under the carpet. I let them see me, and I shouted, “wait, I need your help!” One of the doors upstairs slammed shut, and the kids bolted outside.

Two days later, someone found me dead lying under the tree next to my soccer ball. Leaves surrounded the tree in a perfect circle.
So here I am today, haunting everyone that moves into my house. As long as people keep refusing to help me, I will be here forever.





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