A ghost story

A ghost story

A Story by Stephanie Weippert
"

What's it like when your house is haunted?

"

Fred sat on his bed and put on his left boot.  He was ready for work.  He wore his work shirt and comfortable jeans and steel-toed boots.  Getting up he walked to the hall and noted something strange.  The glass globe on the light fixture in the hall, which had always been clear, was now frosted.  He blinked.  It changed back.  He didn’t understand why he saw it frosted.  It had never been frosted.  Looking down he rubbed his eyes then looked again.  It looked frosted.  He backed up a step but knew he had to be hallucinating.  No!  It couldn’t be! It had never been that way! 

            It changed back and relief washed over him.

            Going into the bathroom he held himself up by his hands on the sink.  His sink was cool, smooth and white.  It was comforting in its solidness.  Fred looked at himself in the mirror.  The mirror showed a middle-aged man with thinning hair and hanging jowls.  He also needed a shave. 

            Beginning his shaving routine made Fred feel calmer and he went through the motions of pulling the razor up, swishing it in the water, pulling the razor up, swishing it in the water again and again until he was done.  He felt much better when he finished.  He was toweling off his face when the mirror changed.

            It showed not his reflection, but a woman!  Fred saw a young woman with long brown hair brushing her teeth!  He backed-up and the closet door behind him rattled. He saw the woman react to the sound of the door when he bumped it.

            Fred watched in horrible fascination as he saw her turn her head around and look at the door behind her.  Fred was terrified.  The woman in the mirror looked puzzled and reached out and turned to the door behind her.  Watching her move through his bathroom mirror closer to the door he was leaning against sent icy cold fear through him.

When Fred saw her touch the door in his mirror, her image vanished and his reappeared.  Fred stood and looked at his mirror for a while, not knowing what else to do, but the image didn’t change again.  Forcing himself to calm down enough to move again he put his feelings away and headed for the kitchen for coffee before he left for work as usual. 

            Fred wanted coffee.  Fred needed coffee, something to calm his nerves.  He stomped from the bathroom into the kitchen.  He tried not to look at anything else on the way out of fear.  When he got to his kitchen, he reluctantly looked up.  With relief Fred saw that his kitchen was still yellow.  His windows were each still in the same place.  His cupboards were still on the correct side around the sink.  He looked at everything that could’ve changed, from his new Chambers stove to his old Fridgedaire.  He felt extreme relief when he found nothing wrong.  He got out the familiar red can of Folgers with the name surrounding ships at sea and brought it over to his stove.  He reached up and got his coffee pot out of the still yellow cupboard and paused.  Fearing the worst, he looked at the bottom of his coffee pot.  Under the black from use, the words “Made in Occupied Japan” were still faintly visible.  Fred sighed audibly with relief. Everything was normal.  He was just imagining things.  Nothing had changed.  He should see his doctor about seeing things however.  He made a mental note to set an appointment as soon as possible. 

“That’s right,” he told himself, “nothing is going to change without me doing it. I’m just seeing things.”   

He liked his house even though he had only lived in it a few years.  It was in a quiet neighborhood in a suburb far away from the busy city.  Even if Fred liked building those wonderful skyscrapers, it didn’t mean he preferred to live in one. The world was shinny and new after all the strife had ended.  America was booming and he was in on it.  Whistling while he placed his coffee on the stove to boil, he turned around to turn on the radio.  It wasn’t there.  Blinking, he stared at the spot he always kept it. The counter was bare.  He stood and stared at the spot but it didn’t reappear.  He looked all round the kitchen but didn’t see it.

            His panic welled again.  He sat down hard on the nearest kitchen chair with his thoughts racing.  “Did I move it and forget?  Had a thief come in and taken it?  What was going on?  Just how sick am I? “

The questions without answers chased each other in his head.  Time passed without his notice while he sat there.  Only the sound of the coffee pot burbling broke his stasis. With hands shaking, he rose like an old man and got a coffee cup out of the cupboard. 

Fred felt 80 years old.  He noticed at his hands as he reached into the cupboard.  They had liver spots and wrinkles.  He dropped the cup and stared. The cup hit the counter and rolled a bit, but fortunately didn’t break.  As he continued to stare in disbelief, they blurred back into his hands.  He picked up the cup and managed to pour coffee in it somehow without spilling it all over.  He then brought the full steaming cup to his lips and the  music blared.

            Shock upon shock had dulled his reactions.  Fred only turned slowly to look at where his radio should be.  It was there now, but tuned to a station he didn’t recognize.  Playing music he’d never heard before.  Reaching over to turn it off, he found that the knob was already turned to the off position. 

            Fred felt bone numbing fear race through him and freeze his mind.  His house was haunted!  Fear, panic and terror were his only thoughts when he raced out through the living room and to the front door.  He had to get the parson to exorcise his house of the evil spirit!  He slammed the door behind him and as he reached the top of the steps to the sidewalk he stopped at the sight.  Looking up, past his front gate he didn’t see the empty cow pasture that was on the other side of the street.  He saw houses that looked like they had been there for decades.  Some even had moss growing on their roofs.

            Fred felt a sharp pain in his chest.  His arm felt like someone had stabbed it.  He suddenly couldn’t breathe.  He felt himself fall.

000

In a bright yellow cheery kitchen, two brown haired sisters enjoyed coffee, conversation and companionship in the house one just moved into.

“This is a really cool old house sis.”  Melissa told her sister while sipping her coffee at the kitchen table.  “You’re lucky.  There aren’t any more houses around here for under $100,000.”

“Don’t I know it.”  Chris replied.  “Not many people want a 900 square foot house anymore.”  Chris turned on the radio and sat down next to her sister.

“And it’s over 50 years old!”  Melissa actually sounded impressed.

Chris smirked at her reaction.  “But would you believe me if I told you it was haunted?”

 “Really?  You got to be kidding Chris.” 

 “Yeah, I keep getting the odd sensation of someone else being in the room with me but no one’s there.  I even heard the closet door in the bathroom rattle this morning.”               “Oh please!” Melissa waved her hand, dismissing the idea.  “You’re trying to pull my leg sis.” 

The sisters chuckled at the thought of a real actual ghost haunting Chris’ new house then went on with their cheerful conversation.

000

Fred sat on his bed and put on his left boot.  He was ready for work.  He wore his work shirt and comfortable jeans and steel-toed boots.  Getting up he walked to the hall and noted something strange.  His light fixture in the hall, which had always been clear, was now frosted.  He blinked.  It changed back.  He didn’t understand why he saw it frosted.  It had never been frosted.  Looking down he rubbed his eyes then looked again.  It looked frosted.  He backed up a step but knew he had to be hallucinating.  No!  It couldn’t be! His house wasn’t haunted!

© 2008 Stephanie Weippert


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ohhhh I liked this very much! excellent ending...poor Fred...doesn't know he's passed on...now he has to share his abode. Wonder if he'll ever figure it out? Or is he doomed to repeat this day forever? hmmm ...I'm thinking a continuation of this tale is in order lol.

laura

Posted 11 Years Ago


Very well done! The main character Fred is the perfect example of a residual haunting, but you give it the interesting twist that he believes he is the one being haunting. A fresh perspective on a traditional old ghost story. Good write!

Posted 11 Years Ago



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Added on February 8, 2008

Author

Stephanie Weippert
Stephanie Weippert

Tacoma, WA



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I write because my muse tells me to. She's such a demanding little *&$%*! LOL Below is my writing contest. Go ahead and take a look! Geek LoveDec 27, 2007 - Mar 28, 2008 more..

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