Ghost Girl

By Audrey Lambert, TIWP Student

“I didn’t mean to,” I said, “I swear I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh,” said my older brother sarcastically, “You didn’t MEAN break into the safe in the
basement? And you didn’t MEAN to use the cursed two hundred-year-old Ouija board to
summon a DEMON into our house? How can you POSSIBLY do that on ACCIDENT?”

“First of all,” I said, “She’s a ghost, not a demon. Second of all, the safe was already
open. And third of all, she only did what she did because you pissed her off.”

“I pissed HER off? No, no, no, she killed our parents. SHE pissed ME off.”

“Well, to be fair, they weren’t that great in the first place. Plus, they pissed her off even
more than you do.”

“If you’re so buddy-buddy with her, why don’t you go tell her to leave us alone?”

“She won’t listen to me, I’m just a kid. You’re older, you should do it.”

“No way! She killed mom and dad, and if she hates me so much what would stop her
from just killing me?”

“Absolutely nothing,” said a voice that sent chills down my spine. It was quiet and eerie
but had the deafening sense of eternities of pain and sadness.

My brother and I both screamed. God, he really does scream like a girl. The little ghost
girl laughed at us.

“You should’ve seen your faces! You kiddos remind me of my brother and I at your age
before, well, you know.”

“Oh, you mean before you died,” I said. What a stupid thing to say, I was afraid she
would kill me on the spot but she just ignored me and continued talking.

“Yes, you are very similar to us except, well, for the fact that he brutally murdered me by
smothering me with a pillow while I was sleeping. But, no matter.”

My brother, being the idiot he is, didn’t think anything she said was of importance other
than the fact that she used the word kiddos.

“Kiddos? You don’t even look three years older than us.”

“Well, add a couple hundred years of captivity between the world of the living and the
dead and I think I have the right to be calling you kiddos.”

“Oh.”

“Anywho,” said the ghost girl, “Sorry for the fright and um, killing your parents and all.
Actually, I’m not really sorry for that. They were terrible people. No offense.”

“None taken?” I said.

“On a more serious note, as long as you two skedaddle and leave this house
immediately, then myself and my other family members won’t have any more reason to bother you two. And by bother, I mean murder.”

“We’ll have to go live with our aunt or something now anyways, since you, you know,
killed our parents. So, we’ll be out of your hair in no time,” my brother said.

She disappeared and then returned carrying our suitcases. “The sooner, the better, she
said, “I’ve got all of your belongings here so, out you go!” She ushered us towards the door.

“Oh and kiddo, thanks for releasing me and everything.”

“Oh, uh, no problem I guess,” I said.

Then she shoved us onto the porch and slammed the door behind us.

No one ever believed our story about what really happened in that house, but we will
never forget the truth: most ghosts are just sad and temperamental and want you to leave their homes. Sometimes they just have to kill you parents to get there.

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