The Little Ghost Girl

In honor of Halloween and in anticipation of the live show from the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum on Ghost Adventures October 30, here is a little story I penned. I hope you enjoy it.

The Little Ghost Girl

Sometimes I sit at the bottom of the stairs and wait for the woman to come. I could sit for hours and hours, but she never comes. She just stays in the room at the top of the stairs. Sometimes she cries, sometimes she moans. But she never comes down to see me.

Others come, though. Sometimes they even bring treats. I love when they bring me treats. I always say “thank you,” but they don’t always hear me. Or see me. But I follow them as they walk the halls, talking about strange things. Sometimes, I get close enough to touch them. It’s kind of funny when they jump and say, “Did you just touch me?”

They are so curious, these strangers. More than me, even. The way they walk the halls, ducking in and out of the empty rooms, taking pictures of everything they see. I think it’s funniest when they ask the walls questions. Do they think they’re going to answer?

I’d like to answer. I try to answer sometimes, but it’s so hard. I get so tired from playing with the toys they bring me and I just have to go off and rest. I like the balls the best, but they make me tired the fastest. All the running around, racing back and forth to catch them. It’s more fun than just running down the halls. They don’t like it when I do that; they’re always yelling at me to stop. Sometimes they even try to trip you. Like Ruth. She’s a mean old woman who enjoys pushing other people around. I stay away from her and you should, too.

Noises fill the halls now. The visitors are getting excited, asking more questions, taking more pictures. But they don’t understand. The noises mean the bad men are coming. I don’t like the bad men. I want to stay with the visitors, but the bad men won’t let me. They don’t want me to go anywhere, so they chase me back down the hall to where it’s safe, their faces just ugly black masks that haunt me and keep me awake at night.

So I’ll just sit here, at the bottom of the stairs and wait.

Maybe some day the lady will come and say to me, “Come upstairs and see your mother, Lilly.”