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They Live in the Attic
"Are there any questions?" the tour guide asked as she looked around the small living room of an old home in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
No one asked any questions. Everyone shook their heads no and the tour guide carried on.
James Washington was thirteen, and was very interested in the history of the Civil War. That's why he was here, to learn. His mother and mother's friend Sue, took him to this old house on a tour. There was a story behind the house and the family that had lived there during the time the Confederates and Union of the Civil War met in the town of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
"Alright then, follow me," the tour guide said with a little disappointment in her voice, she must've liked answering questions.
The tour walked up steep stairs to the second floor where four bedrooms were. The tour guide stopped once everyone was at the top.
"This is the second floor, where all th bedrooms are. The two little girl's rooms, are here to the left," the tour guide said as she pointed. "...and the mother and father's room is here to the right along with the guest room. In those days, when you had guest they would most likely spend the night, so many of their guests used this room when the house was still being used as a home."
James looked and studied all the rooms, looking at all the old things that accompanied them. He looked at the chamber pot and chuckled.
"Jeez, we've come a long way in technology," he said under his breath.
His mother put his arm around him.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"Interesting so far, but is still isn't over," he said and joined the group that was gathering at the bottom of the second staircase.
"Okay, now we're going up to the third floor, where the attic is, and where a battle was fought believe it or not," the tour guide voiced, then led the group up to the attic.
James was the first one inside, and got to the back, where there were old guns propped up against the brick walls.
Large red stains sat underneath James's shoes, he didn't notice.
"So, this is where a few Confederates invaded the home and shot Union soldiers that stood in the street, you cans see they punched out a few bricks in the walls, so they could fire their guns."
Everyone looked at the few holes that were in the walls where bricks used to sit long ago. James was actually standing right next to one.
"And if you notice the red stains on the floor, there is one where that young man is standing," the tour guide said as she pointed to James and the stains under his shoes.
"Sorry," he said, and moved.
"That's quite alright. Anyway, those are blood stains from where the Confederates up here were shot and killed. Four men actually died in this room."
Everyone froze. It was a lot to take in. James's stomach dropped as he thought to himself: I was just standing on someone's blood stains. Right where they died to.
"We had scientists come in and analyze those stains and they confirmed that they were in fact blood stains," the tour guide said.
"So? Are there any questions before we move onto the cellar downstairs?" the tour guide asked.
No one said anything.
"Didn't think so," she whispered.
"Okay, lets go. Oh, last one out, could you please close the door?" the tour guide asked.
James nodded. He knew he would be the last one out.
Everyone went about their business, and right as James was about to walk out the door, it slammed and locked.
"What the heck?" he said.
"Help!" he yelled, as he tried turning the handle, it wouldn't budge.
He banged ont he old door. It was strong.
Everyone outside the door turned and looked at the door, listening to James pound away screaming.
His mother ran and tried to open the door, she couldn't get it open.
"Can someone help?" James's mother asked.
Sue ran to the door, and began trying to kick it open, but it wouldn't open.
"I'll get some help!" the tour guide said and she ran downstairs and lifted up the bottom of her dress so she could walk.
James stopped pounding on the door, nothing would work. He was trapped in the room where four men had been shot an killed during the Civil War. Was this really happening?
He said down and held his knees close to him, but then he noticed he was sitting ont he blood stain in the floor, and shot up. He stood in the corner of the room, looking out of a small window that let you see out into the backyard of the home.
A small light hung from the ceiling, and it was dull, it didn't light the room very well. It was sort of dark, but good enough for you to see pretty well. Spooky.
The light bulb busted still as it sat still hooked to the string, dangling from the ceiling.
Glass hit the floor and shattered into even tinier pieces.
James was terrified what was going on? There was only one explanation that lingered in his mind. Ghosts.
James most certainly did believe in ghosts. He had always wanted to encounter one.
Suddenly, he was shoved into a corner, where a small door sat leading to a tiny closet.
The door opened and he was shoved inside. It was pitch black in the closet. You couldn't see an inch in front of you.
Something scratched his back, and he screamed in utter pain. He did now believe that ghosts were doing this, and he didn't know why they wanted to do this, but they were.
Outside, his mother and Sue were trying to pry the door open with a crow bar, but it wasn't working. Suddenly, a large whoosh, hit them and they flew back against the wall behind them.
Sue held her back in pain.
The boy had tears running down his face, this was the scariest thing that had ever happened to him. Why though? Why were they doing this? What did he ever do to them?
The closet door opened and the boy was thrown out and into the attic. His mother on the other side of the door leading to the attic was banging with all her might, to try and get the door open. But it was like it became to strong for anything to break it. It was the result of the evil ghosts.
"Get a priest!" the mother ordered.
"What?" Sue asked.
"He can perform an exorcism and get these ghosts to stop!" she yelled as she pointed toward the door that wouldn't budge.
Sue looked at her for a moment, then ran down the steps. Asking strangers questions.
"Where is the nearest church?" she would ask. Only one person answered her. A woman.
"Two blocks down the street to the left," she said.
Sue ran faster than she had ever ran before to get to the church to bring back a priest, to stop this madness.
The boy was lying on the floor. He was looking up to the ceiling, staring at a figure that looked at him. A man in a battle uniform from what looked to be like the Civil War. The ghost.
You could see right through him, he had cuts, and bruises on his face, with pure anger in his eyes. There was a hole in his clothes, right over his chest, where he had been shot all those years ago during the war.
The boy closed his eyes. He was scared. Real scared. More than you could ever imagine in your whole life.
He looked at a bookshelf, full of books from the 1800s. There was a rattling sound coming from it. Suddenly, the books on the shelf flew toward the boy, some hitting him in the face. He covered himself the best he could with his arms and tried to find cover around the corner. He did, and he stayed there.
Blood was now running from his nose, he was hit hard with the books. Now rage ran through his system along with his fear. Two emotions that don't quite go together.
Sue had gotten a priest. Father William. They were both running toward the house where the boy was being tormented.
The priest had everything he needed with him, his cross, his Bible, and his Holy Water. He took them out, as they ran into the house, and climbed the stairs.
Once they got outside the door, where they could clearly hear the boy's screaming, Father William tried to open the door.
"It won't open, we've tried a lot of things but it won't budge!" Sue said as the mother of the boy looked at the priest.
Father William took his cross and put it against the door, he was thrown back against the wall as soon as this happened and got right back up, with the help of Sue and the boy's mother.
He opened his Bible and began reading the Lord's Prayer as he put the cross on the door. He finished with:
"...in the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to leave this home!"
There was a blinding light, in the room where the boy was being tormented. The light so bright it was as if the heavens opened up, the light came under the door and out into the small hallway where everyone was standing.
Father William sprayed Holy water on the door, and it sizzled as it ran down the wood.
There was a loud bang, and Father William repeated the Lord's Prayer and ended with:
"...in the name of Jesus Christ I commanded you to leave this house!"
There was another large moan, and a flash of light, and the door opened.
The boy laid in the middle of the room. He was unconscious.
Father William, the boy's mother, and Sue all ran to the boy. Suddenly, the boy opened his eyes, and looked at his mother.
"Is it over?"
The mother had a tear rolling down her cheek.
"Yes, baby, it is."
The boy's mother hugged Father William and whispered:
Father William nodded.
The boy stood up, and they began walking out when all the sudden the door once again, slammed and locked...