The Haunting (A new Family)

a story for a contest. It's not really a haunt, but a figment of my imagination... I think it turned out pretty well, short though.

            There he stood. Staring back at me, through me it seemed. But I knew he could see me. I took a step forward, he took one back. There, he can see me, I thought. I looked down at my boots. They were slightly transparent, and a lighter shade of brown than they were when I first got them. My light hair fell around my face and as I pulled my hands up to brush it back, I marveled at how colorless they looked.

            You see, I am a ghost. I died a long time ago; hundreds of years before now. I died in this very house, in this very place I am standing on the hard wood floors. Yellow walls smiled out at me, as if they were glad I was dead. I looked back to the boy. He was maybe twelve or thirteen, I wasn’t sure. He and his parents had just moved into my house. I had walked these halls for longer than anyone remembered. Any other ghost I mean. My parents had died with me, so had my twin brother, Michal. But they had moved on, up to Heaven or something, while I had stayed here, wanting to live forever in this beautiful house.

            I was born here, lived here, and died here when I was seventeen. I was engaged to the Duke of something-or-other, I don’t remember. He was a horrible, fat man, and I was almost glad I didn’t have to marry him. According to others, I was a beauty; long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, flawless, so they said. Oh, but I had a flaw. I still have a flaw. But that is not the point.

            The point is that this family moved in, after a hundred years of solitude, and I want them out.

 

 

            “What are you doing here?” I hissed, moving again towards the boy. He shrunk back into the corner. We were in the parlor, but there was no fire in the hearth, nor couches or chairs for guests to sit in like there used to be.

            The boy’s long, black hair was tied into a ponytail at the base of his neck. His hazel eyes stared fearfully out at me when I towered over him. “M-my parents. Th-th-they wanted to live somewhere nice; out here in the country,” he stuttered. I felt bad for him and backed away a little.

            I could understand why someone would want to live here. A big yellow house on the top of the hill, looking out over England’s land. It used to be a nice view, until people built motorcars and other strange mechanical things that polluted the air and killed the grass.

            The boy stood. “What’s your name?” I asked turning away and moving to the bar, hauling myself up to sit. My purple skirts, now faded, swirled around me and I settled.

            “James Carrier, that’s me. My parent’s are Fredrick and Petunia.” He had lost the stutter and I smiled a fraction.

            “James… Well, I suppose if you’re going to be living here, I’ll have to get used to you. My name is Jessa Dolman. I lived here in the seventeen hundreds; what year is it now?” I clasped my hands.

            “Wow,” James whispered, moving closer to me. He took small steps, as if afraid. I smiled at him and he cringed away. “It’s 1993 now. My birthday is tomorrow,” he added proudly, “April 14^th. I’ll be thirteen.”

            I closed my eyes and took a breath. “Well, ain’t that a coincidence. That’s my birthday too! I’ll be seventeen, like always, again.” I laughed slightly, shaking my head.

            James just stared at me. “Will you always be here?” he asked timidly.

            “I don’t know. I never moved on like my family did, I like it here too much. And no one’s ever really lived here so I can do whatever I want, really.” I frowned and picked up an empty bottle from behind the bar. I tossed it behind me and heard it smash on the wall. James flinched and turned away. He muttered something but I wasn’t listening.

            There was movement of the other side of the parlor door. A tall woman walked in; she had curly black hair, like James, and dull green eyes. Her lips were tight as she surveyed the room. Must be his mother, I thought. Without saying anything, she motioned to James and led him out. I looked after them, then hopped off the counter and followed through the wall.

 

 

            When the family ate dinner, I stood behind Petunia, making funny faces at her, and acting like a child. I hadn’t had so much fun in a long time. I laughed whenever James gave me strange looks, but I could tell he was glad his parents couldn’t see me. I wondered why James could see me; no one else could before.

            After they ate dinner, I watched as the trio retired to their rooms. The two parents took the master bedroom, the one my parent’s had inhabited when we were still alive. James chose the room my brother had lived in, but only after I told him so.

            That night, I sat on my brother’s old bed talking with James.

            “So how did you die, anyway?” he asked, pushing a stray hair from his curious eyes.

            I smiled a little. “There was a plague. When one of our servants went to the city to get food, she caught it and brought it back for us. Everyone in the house died within days.” I dropped my eyes, smiling sadly. The memories came easily, but I didn’t want to remember. Michal had been the first to go, which had brought the whole house into worse spirits.

            “Oh,” I heard James mumble. I raised my head. He was looking at the wall, distracted.

            “So, how come you can see me?” I called, grasping his attention once more.

            He shook his head, shaggy hair falling from behind his ears. “I don’t know. I’ve always been able to see this one ghost that lived at my old house, but I never saw anyone else.” He shrugged and stood to pick up a book.

            I shifted, my blouse caught in my coat. I didn’t need a coat, I always felt pleasantly warm no matter what the weather. But I liked it. It reminded me of my parents, John and Mary. I half-smiled at the names; so original, I thought sarcastically.

            I snapped out of my thoughts as James whispered, “Maybe it’s because you’re so lonely?”

            I leaned over to him, my eyes boring into his dark eyes. “And why would you think that?” I hissed, making my face unemotional. He had hit the head, but he wouldn’t see the nail go in.

            He shrugged again; I was getting annoyed with that gesture. “Well you’re here all alone. It must be lonely!” My eyes flickered between his light skinned face and the pale wall.

            “Yes…” I answered sullenly. “It is…”

 

 

            The next day James and I were standing together in the parlor again. His parent’s didn’t like it in there so he could freely speak to me and not have them to worry.

            “School starts today. Will you come with me?” He asked, smiling.

            I shook my head. “No. I can’t leave this place. For some reason, I stay bonded here; I can’t even move past the doorway.” I grinned. “But I’ll be here when you get back!”

            James and I had talked late into the night; I had taken a liking to him. He was a sweet boy, and it helped that he was the first person that could actually talk to me in over two hundred years.

            He nodded, looking a little sad. I wanted to reach out and make him smile, but I knew that my arms would go straight through him.

            I watched him walk through the door with Petunia and Fredrick. He turned back at the last second and waved at me. I returned the gesture and smiled. I moved back to the parlor and lifted myself once again to my spot on the bar.

            I had sat in this spot ever since I was born, and for the first time in a long time, I sat there all day, with a smile plastered on my face.

            “I think I might like this new family,” I said aloud, happy again. 

Reviews

[rojerotmg]

This is so cute! I'm really curious about her flaw and if it will affect the boy. I really like that you use "I can do whatever I want, really" as an explanation for things that go bump in the night.

[the-One-with-the-Darkne..]

Very good. I like this.