I stepped out of the car and sighed. “I miss being in Springfield. Big cities always give you a sense of comfort.”
“You’ll get used to it, Mason,” My dad reassured me. “Get used to Glasgow, Kentucky? I don’t think so. These roads are tiny,” I grumbled. “I know this transition is going to be hard for you, son, but you’ll like it here. It’s smaller than Springfield, I know, but that means the community is tightly woven. You’ll make friends out here!” Mom said cheerfully. I groaned, heaving my huge rolling suitcase out. Half a year back, Dad had found a job here, working for a bank. Mom was working at a college. Dad’s name is Dave. He’s a thin man, with blonde hair that had just begun to turn white, and had glasses. Mom’s name is Lucy. She was a tall lady, with blonde hair, spectacles, and that tired expression some teachers have. I looked up at the house we moved into. It was a tall house—a bit taller than the others due to the added attic. It was made of wood and painted white. The paint was faded, but the house stood proud. I looked around. We lived in a dead-end street. I shook all thoughts about the boring life off when my mom and dad began to walk towards the house. “Maybe I will make some friends,” I murmured to myself, running to catch up to them.
The interior was a bit shabby. The floorboards, though polished, creaked a bit at some points. The walls were gray, with white around the frames. I continued walking along the hall, then stopped as I looked up, and saw a square in the wall, almost as though someone had cut it. “What’s this, Dad?” I asked. Dad came over. “Oh, that’s the attic, Mason. Careful, don’t let the ghosts out,” he chuckled, walking down the hall, and pointing at a door. “That’s my room. If you need anything, just come and ask,” he said. I nodded, and walked into my room.
My bedroom was painted the same gray as the rest of the house, with one door that led into a bathroom. Set against the wall next to the bedroom door was a closet, full of drawers and racks. Close to the opposite wall was a brown bed frame, with a white, unmade mattress that had yet to see its sheets. To the right of the bed was an empty bookshelf, the old one from my old room back in Illinois. On the opposite wall of the bookshelf, was a window stretching across the whole wall, about two feet tall. I couldn’t wait to fill the shelf with books, and unload all my bags.
That night, I lay in bed, with a lonely pillow to prop my head on, and a shelf full of books, as well as sheets on the mattress. I pulled the blanket over my body. The night was cool, but not as bad as Illinois. I closed my eyes, and was just about to fall asleep, when I heard a clomping sound above me, like footsteps in the attic. Outside my bedroom, I heard creaking. It came from…up on the ceiling, like the attic door was being opened. I held my breath. I hoped it was just Dad, going up to fix the beams. Then, all thoughts of Dad vanished as the door handle to my bedroom slowly twisted. I squinted my eyes in a pantomime of sleep. The door was slowly pushed open, admitting…a teenager. Not anyone I knew. What on earth was this teenager doing here? How did he get in? What was he doing in the attic in the first place? The teenager walked over to my bed. I was paralyzed in fear, still pretending I was asleep. Then, to my horror, another teenager slipped in. That was when I realized…I could see through them.
I watched through half-closed eyes, observing the two. They were identical. Well, not exactly identical…but I could see the resemblance. They both had narrow eyes, with dark rings around them. One of them had his hair slicked into a mohawk. His lips were black, and he wore a black leather sleeveless jacket. All in all, this guy was a punk. The other looked like an average teen, with baggy jeans, a backwards cap, and a white t-shirt. They stood over me in my bed. I didn’t dare breathe. “So…these are the newcomers, Daniel?” the one in the jeans asked. “No duh, Garett,” Daniel replied. “Ay, don’t talk to me like that. Remember, you need me for the job,” Garett growled. Daniel grunted. “Yeah, yeah, I know. So, we start off with the kid?” he asked. Garett nodded, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. We cut the weak link…then we get the rest of this family,” he said. “This guy looks weak. We could finish him with the light trick,” Daniel replied. “Well, it won’t kill, but we always have the closet as a solid backup,” Garett said. “Yeah, this is the weak link alright. See those little nerd glasses?” Daniel mocked, pointing at my glasses on the nightstand. The two laughed, bumped fists, and walked away. I could see they weren’t exactly walking. They were moving their legs, sure, but they were hovering an inch or so off the ground. As the door closed behind them, I panicked. We’ve got ghosts in the house—they’re trying to hurt my family…and I’m first on the list!
I was on edge in the morning. I could barely eat my cereal and milk. My mind was far away from the breakfast table, still wondering about those teenage ghosts. “Mason, what’s wrong with the cereal? You have it every day!” my dad said, chuckling. I shrugged. “Just woke up, that’s all,” I lied, digging my spoon into the cereal.
That day, my parents let me out of the house alone to make friends with the kids around the neighborhood. I got on my bike and went around pedaling. I saw one kid, athletic looking, with some brown curly hair, about my age. He was shooting hoops as I jumped off the bike. “Hey!” I waved to get the kid’s attention, wondering if I sounded too desperate. The kid waved back. “Hi. You want to play?” he asked. I nodded, smiling nervously. He tossed me another basketball, which had been sitting on the sidewalk. As we shot, we talked. “So, what’s your name?” I asked. “I’m Devin,” the kid replied. “Nice to meet you, Devin. I’m Mason,” I said, throwing the ball towards the hoop again. “You want to know what out here keeps you from dying of boredom before we make it to school?” Devin asked. “Tell me, please. It’s been one night and I’m already bored,” I said jokingly. “Well, we have a library, so if you love reading like me, you can swing by. We also have a tiny, tiny park. Probably just the size of that dead-end street back there,” Devin pointed to my street. “Oh! I live there,” I said. Devin’s eyes widened a bit. “Really? Which house?” he asked. “The one with the attic, a bit taller than the rest. Painted white, made of wood. Why?” I asked. Devin dropped his ball, eyes real wide now. “That place…there’s neighborhood stories about it. They say that two teenagers and their father once lived there. At some point, they were in a financial crisis, and the landlord kicked them out. The father put up a fight, though, and they all were killed,” he said
“So…now all three of them are up in the attic?” I asked, wondering if this had anything to do with my dilemma. Devin shook his head. “Ghosts are only trapped when unhappy. They appear physically after a span of time. The father died content, knowing they couldn’t do anything about it. But the teens were grieving about the loss of their father. After a few days, maybe, of invisibility, they appeared in the house, suddenly intent on revenge. So, now, whichever person or people move in, the teens haunt them. They just want to get the new people out of the house, just as the other landlord did to their dad,” he said. My hands shook. My ball rolled away. “Devin…do you ever believe these stories?” I asked. Devin shrugged, shooting another three pointer, chuckling. “Nah, not really. That’s only neighborhood legend, but still, I don’t like the looks of that house. Why?” he asked. “You’re not going to believe this…but the ghosts are in the house. I saw them last night!” I whispered. Devin looked at me, then giggled. “You’re funny Mason. I guess I’m not the only clown now,” he chuckled. “No, no, you’re not getting it. I really saw them!” I insisted. Devin laughed harder. “You should write a horror story. I bet this would be a hit,” he said. I sighed, knowing that Devin wasn’t going to be much help. “I’ll look into that. So, your shot, I think,” I said, relenting. After all, this was a crazy story, hard to believe. Devin nodded, continuing to shoot basketballs.
I returned home at around noon, exhausted (I was not very on the athletic side) but happy from my fun and games with Devin. I was beginning to think that, apart from the monotony of it all, Devin could be the most fun I’d get. “Honey, what’s up with you? Have you been working at a circus?” Mom asked. “I met this kid called Devin. We played basketball,” I said. Mom smiled. “I knew you’d be a social butterfly wherever you go. Come on, we have pizza for lunch today,” she said. I nodded, sitting down. Mom sat across from me. “Mom, do you believe in ghosts?” I asked. She chuckled. “Why? Did they come out of the attic?” she joked. I nodded, eyes wide. “Yes, Mom. As a matter of fact, they did. I saw them last night,” I said firmly. She looked at me, eyes wide as well. “Oh…your father and I meant to tell you about that, you see, but we were too tired last night,” she said. Then, Mom burst out laughing, rocking in her chair with amusement. “Oh, Mason. You looked terrified! I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Just a little joke. You should write a story about your nightmare!” Mom exclaimed. “That’s what Devin said,” I protested. “All the more of a reason you should!” Mom replied. I sighed. “I will, once I have time,” I lied. Mom smiled. “Be a good boy and get us both that mango juice from the garage, will you?” she told me. I nodded, walking to the garage. It was bare, save for a refrigerator close to the door that led to the driveway. A long light hung on cables, suspended on the roof. As I closed the refrigerator door, I looked up…and saw Garett, sitting on the light, grinning at me, with a wire cutter that dad owned in his hand. He was a good deal harder to see in the daylight. “Wh-What do you want?” I asked. As he grinned, he snapped the cable, sending the light swinging towards me!
“No!” I cried, diving out of the way. Daniel laughed, floating through the wall and vanishing. The light, hanging on one cable, fell off the ceiling as the second cord snapped with the mass it had to keep hanging alone after its companion was cut. I screamed in pain as the light fell off the ceiling…and slammed into my legs. Mom came bursting into the garage. “Mason! What did you do?” she cried. “I…agh…,” I cried. “Forget mango juice. You’re going to the hospital,” Mom barked. “It was…the ghosts!” I forced the words out of my mouth. Mom frowned at me. “Mason, I know this transition to a whole new state is hard, but you can’t keep blaming the ghosts. There are none! I don’t even know how you got these up there,” she held up Dad’s wire cutters. I sighed, too much in pain to argue. Tears streamed down my face as my mom lifted me out of the wreckage, and carried me into the car. “Come on, honey. It’ll all be fine,” she said gently.
“That was a foolish stunt you pulled off back there, little buddy. But I’m only here to check on you, not be a counselor. Where does it hurt?” the doctor asked. I pressed along the leg, until I screamed in pain at a certain spot, on the middle of my lower leg. The doctor grimaced. “That was a big scream. We’ll have to take tests on the leg, do scans, all that,” he said. “Of course,” my mom said.
The next few hours were a blur. I got in a room, where we took an X-ray. Apparently, the results said that I had a broken leg, so I was given an orthopedic boot. I felt like a peg leg. The boot was heavy, and I walked with a limp. It was already five in the afternoon by the time we got out of the hospital. Mom and I finished the pizza with dad. “That light cost hundreds of dollars, Mason. However, what I’m most worried about is you. How’s that leg holding up?” Dad asked. I made a so-so gesture. Dad sighed, smiling tiredly. “It’ll be better soon,” he said.
That night, I lay in bed, terrified before I even got to sleep. It was full dark. I knew those two teenagers would be out again. Sure enough, I didn’t have to wait long. The ceiling creaked again, and the regular rhythm of footsteps were heard. Tonight, the two probably decided that they already scoped out the house, so they could conspire in the attic. Luckily, I had a glass of water. I chugged its contents, and pressed the glass to the ceiling, standing on my good leg, before pressing my ear to the glass. “Stunt didn’t really work, Daniel. We need a new plan,” Garett was saying. “There’s tons of things that could hurt in this house. Besides, we could also just appear to the family. That should scare them out of here forever,” Daniel replied. Then came a silence. Finally, Garett spoke up. “We could totally mess up the lady of the house. You know, give her some chills or something,” he said. “How are we gonna do that?” Daniel demanded. “I don’t know…levitate the cutlery?” Garett asked. “I always knew you were the less intelligent one. Dad used to say so. We can do whatever we think up along the way,” Daniel rasped. I shivered, slowly laying back on my bed. I’d heard enough for one night. I’d have to warn Mom…wait, no. That wouldn’t do. She’d think I was a riot, or a huge pest for it. Maybe let her get a taste of what those ghosts can do, then she’ll get me.
The trouble went on during the day without me even knowing it. I was left alone at home, while Mom and Dad took the day off to pick up my cousin Trevor and my Aunt Felecia. I decided to go out and have some fun with Devin. I pulled out my phone, and sent a quick text to Mom. Going to library with Devin. OK w/ you? Mom gave her consent after a minute. I just made it out of the front porch when I saw him biking towards me. “Hey,” Devin said, breathless. “Hey. Wanna go to the library with me?” I asked. Devin smiled. “Sure. Nothing better to do today,” he replied. I nodded. “Be right back. Gotta get my scooter,” I said, going back to the house. A minute later, I opened the garage door, locking it behind me as I pulled my gray scooter out, along with a bike lock, my library card, and a bag. I could’ve biked…if my left leg weren’t in an orthopedic boot. Devin and I spent a good hour reading. I made a break for the horror section, while Devin went straight to the Sci-fi. It lasted until Dad texted me. Got the fam. Be at home in thirty minutes. “Hey, Devin…uh…I gotta go. My dad just texted me. Maybe another time,” I said. Devin smiled, waving to me, before burying his face in the book again. I scootered furiously, and got home just one minute before Dad did. Out of the car came Mom, a boy that looked like me, just in different clothes, as well as a woman with curly hair and a purple cardigan. I hadn’t seen Aunt Felecia in so long. Trevor and I had only seen each other a few times as toddlers. We looked somewhat similar. Trevor had grown out his hair into a floppy thing, while mine was still a half-buzz cut. Suddenly, I turned around, and saw a figure disappearing through the glass next to the window. My chest tightened up with dread. That had to be one of the brothers. I had a feeling I knew why he was downstairs. The others had just come up the porch, suspecting nothing. Dad led the rest of the party into the house…and they all gasped.
The house was a total wreck. Rolls of toilet paper hung from a chandelier. The table had scratches on it, as well as a pair of scissors lying next to it. The dishwasher had been washing with the door open, so soapy water was all over the floor. The couch in the living room had been cut with a knife, and the leather had some of the cushioning spilling out. We looked around in horror, and walked through the wreck. “Mason…what did you do?” Dad asked quietly, probably suspecting me since I was the only one not open-mouthed in horror. I knew the ghosts had done it. I’d seen them. “I…I didn’t do anything,” I stammered. I knew what had happened. Those two ghosts, Garett and Daniel, had totaled the house, then pinned the blame on me! “Mason, this is just so not like you, honey,” Mom said, hands on her cheeks. “It wasn’t me. I-I was at the library the whole time, remember?” I said. “How can we be sure you really did what your texts said?” Dad demanded, face a bit red now. Trevor and Aunt Felecia remained silent. I felt so guilty, even though I hadn’t done anything. They were going to think my parents were the worst ones ever. “Dad, Mom, you got to believe me. I didn’t do it, the ghosts did!” I said. There. I came out with the truth. No matter what they said, that couldn’t change. “Mason, now’s not the time to joke about ghosts,” Mom said angrily. “All this furniture has been with us since you were three. Now, one hour of leaving you alone in the house, and you wreck it. What has gotten into you, son?” Dad exclaimed. Mom sighed. “Just go to your room, Mason. We’ll talk later,” she said. I limped sadly into my bedroom. As I did, I cast glances at all the other rooms. A hacksaw that belonged to dad lay next to my mom’s bed, where one of the legs had been sawn. My dad’s bedroom door had scratches on it. I walked to my room, and groaned. My room was in perfect condition, the same as I had left it. Now of course they were going to think it was me, because I wouldn’t wreck my own bedroom. I closed the door to my room. Less than ten seconds later, it was opened, and Trevor walked in nervously. “Hey, Mason,” he murmured. “Hey,” I said mutedly. Trevor sat on the bed next to me. “So, what actually happened? Were you really at the library?” he asked tentatively. “Of course I was. I wasn’t at home. The ghosts did it?” I said. “I’m not much of a believer, but can you tell me about these ‘ghosts’?” Trevor asked. I sighed. “I saw them two nights back. One of them looks like a punk, that’s Daniel. The other one looks like the average “bad kid” teenager. He’s Garett,” I replied. Trevor nodded. “Why do they want to mess with your family?” he asked. I shrugged. “Not so sure. I met a kid named Devin, he said that the legend of that house was that their dad died, so now they want to hurt whoever comes along.” Trevor shrugged. “I mean…standing from your parents’ point of view, this is so unbelievable,” he remarked. “Yeah. No kidding,” I sighed. Trevor smiled a bit. “Look, I’ll help you vouch for your parents if you can prove to me these ghosts exist,” he said. I nodded. “Deal. They’ll either be conspiring up in the attic, or snooping around the house. You can set up your sleeping bag next to my bed,” I said confidently. “Oh, and one more thing…what happened to your leg?” Trevor inquired. “A light from the garage fell on it. The ghosts again,” I muttered. Trevor sighed. “We’re gonna have to stop these ghosts before they do worse,” he said, reaching for my bookshelf.
I spent the whole afternoon imprisoned with Trevor in my room, apart from the time I was let out for lunch. I hated how my parents were so quick to put the blame on me. Trevor had the wild idea that maybe the ghosts had the same weaknesses that they do in the books I read. We spent the afternoon scouring all the books, throwing ideas at one another. “Maybe water?” Trevor suggested. “We could, but how would we know it’s holy?” I asked. Trevor shrugged. “That’s one on the list. Anyways, I remember my old English teacher saying that ghosts can’t penetrate a salt barrier,” he commented. I shrugged. “We could try these as a last resort, but I think we should resort to more psychological things. Maybe we could find these guys’ motives, and use it against them,” I mused. Trevor sighed, flopping onto my mattress. “Let’s just figure it out on the fly. These are all solid backups, though,” he said. I smiled. We had good ideas. This would be the last night those two ghosts interfered with our family. Little did I know, it would be my last night, too.
At dinner, my cousin and I were let out of our room. Trevor grabbed his sleeping bag and inflatable mattress, throwing them into my room. Dinner was on the grill, with sausages and chicken wings, fat dripping off of them, as their marinade sent an aroma into the air. The thin wisp of smoke from the grill wafted into the sky. The house was cleaned up as much as possible. The toilet paper was gone, and the dishwasher’s stains had left the floor. My parents’ moods seemed to have improved. Dinner was amazing, and we all immediately dug in. “So, Felecia, how is it in Omaha?” Dad asked his sister. “Oh, it’s a big city, Dave. Wonderful, really. Trevor has so many friends at school, but he still talked about Mason here day and night once I told him we were coming,” Aunt Felecia smiled at me and stroked my hair affectionately. I blushed, smiling a bit. Trevor grinned. “Well, I hope Mason will experience the same. We just got here, and we only toured the school. It seems nice enough, and the language arts are great. I hope he’ll have plenty of friends,” Mom said, as Dad chuckled from across the table.
That night, Trevor and I lay in our beds, Trevor on his sleeping bag, and me in the covers. The family had talked for ages over dinner, while us two went about eating like hogs. We lay wide awake, waiting for Garett and Daniel to make their move. “We forgot to prep all the things,” Trevor whispered after we had been laying there for thirty minutes. I shot up in my bed. “I better go do that,” I replied in an equally hushed tone. Trevor wriggled out of his sleeping bag. “I’ll get the salt. You get the water. From the filter faucet,” he instructed. I nodded, opening the door…and wincing as the hinges creaked. “What are you doing?” Aunt Felecia called from down the hall. “Uh…Trevor needed to get water,” I said. “Do that, then go to sleep, you understand, boys? We’ve got lots of things planned for tomorrow,” Aunt Felecia said. “Got it, Mom,” Trevor said. We tiptoed out of my room like mice scuttling to avoid a sleeping cat. Trevor turned on the faucet, while I opened the quiet drawer, looking for the salt. I found it, grabbed a tiny sauce plate, and poured salt into it. Once I had a small white mound, Trevor and I tiptoed back down the hall. We sat on our beds, waiting for the first sound. Less than ten minutes later, we heard it. The footsteps. The attic door swung open…and we leapt out of bed.
Now, I have to tell you, the attic door, lengthwise, is long. It hits the ground at the end when opened, with a ladder attached to it. Trevor and I rushed out of my room the second we heard it open. I saw Garett staring down at me with his same old sneer…and dropped the plate of salt in pain, as I moved the bad leg. Miraculously, Trevor caught the plate of salt…and its contents tumbled into the cup of water he held. We stared at the cup, open-mouthed with horror. Then, without warning, Trevor drank half of the salt water, then passed me the cup, gagging. I chugged, and almost spit it out! Even though it was just salt water, I felt like I had just eaten a whole salt mine from Taghaza. Despite that, I still swallowed, and followed Trevor as he clambered up the ladder. I thought Garett would just attack Trevor, but to my surprise, he stepped back, glaring at the two of us. “You’re lucky you drank the salt water, little rascals. Otherwise, you guys wouldn’t have made it up the staircase before we got to your souls and burned them,” Daniel said as I hauled myself up the last step of the ladder. Garett cackled. “It’s wearing off already. The water really took some of the effect out,” he said to his brother. Daniel rolled his eyes. “I know, Garett. Well, what do you know, it wore off. Let’s get them!” Daniel gave us a psycho-happy smile, lunging at a terrified Trevor. I speed-limped around the room as Garett dove at me, melted into the walls, then repeated. As I moved, I looked around, taking stock of the attic. Trevor was gagging, eyes glowing purple. Daniel was probably inside him already. I desperately flung open the closet door, in hopes of slowing Garett. Then, it got really weird. The closet’s interior glowed green and purple. Garett froze, eyes wide, dead center as the beam of light shot out. He seemed to stretch out across the room, one half of him being pulled towards the closet, before the other half rushed up…and Garett was no more. Trevor, on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well either. Green smoke poured out of his mouth. “Idiot! Close the closet, close it!” he cried. Trevor’s voice seemed to have a layer of Daniel’s growl behind it. “You’re gonna join your brother, Daniel,” I shouted back. The closet made a sound like wind. “If I am, your cousin’s going with me! You don’t want him to become a ghost, do you?” Daniel said. I knew that he was playing with his trump card. There was a note of fear in his voice. I could use that. “Let Trevor go, and I’ll close that thing,” I said, defiant. Trevor stared at me creepily for a moment, before falling to the floor, gagging. The figure of Daniel hovered over him, scowling at me. I closed the door, and walked to Trevor. His eyes were their normal blue again. He’d stopped vomiting green smoke. “Now talk. Or I’m gonna open that closet again,” I said. Daniel held his nerve. “What do you want to know?” he ventured. “How does that thing work?” I asked, putting a fist to the closet.
“Well, let’s say that you have three stages of being. Living, death, and oblivion. You all are living. So, if you went into the closet, you would be the new ghosts of the house. However, since Garett was already dead from that time the landlord killed us all, he’s now…well…nonexistent,” Daniel said. I nod. The three of us were sitting on chairs, like we were average kids having a class discussion…except for Daniel. He couldn’t sit on the chair, so he floated. “So, if you were to go in front of the closet if I opened it, then you would be…nonexistent,” I confirmed. Daniel nodded his assent. “Alright. Here’s the deal: you stop messing with my family, and we all live our separate stages of life, and I won’t come back up here and open that closet,” I said forcefully. Daniel shook his head. “Can’t do that, squirt. I need all you guys out of this house, now, before anyone gets hurt,” he growled, his dead eyes glowing green with rage. I stood up, beginning to take slow steps. “We can’t go anywhere else. This is all we’ve got as of now,” I said firmly. As I had hoped, Daniel stood up as well. I circled towards him, off to the other side of the closet, still talking. Trevor remained silent. “Hey, my dad died because of debt. It’s my goal to destroy every new landlord that comes by,” he said. “No one’s moved in before us?” I asked, standing firm now. Daniel nodded, from across the room…parallel with the closet. “Everyone thought the neighborhood legend was true. Hey, hey, no false moves!” he roared, seeing my hand wrap around the closet door. I cursed. My plan hadn’t worked. He narrowed his eyes on me. “I see how this is, kid. Well, you want to play like that? A broken leg and all…try this!” he exclaimed, lunging towards me. His hands wrapped around my waist, cold, and seemingly covered in some slick outer fluid. Ectoplasm? I don’t know. Daniel’s hand slipped through my skin, and a sharp, stinging cold stabbed at my midsection. I gasped, stumbling away from the closet, as his arms slid through, then his shoulders, and finally, the rest of his body. I looked behind. He wasn’t reappearing out the other side. The cold knives spread from just my stomach, down to my toes, and up to my brain. My head pounded. My ears were numb, and my toes were frozen. This must’ve been what Trevor felt like a few minutes ago. I turned my head, to glimpse him backing down the attic stairs. “Trevor…where are you going?” I asked, voice hoarse. “More salt water. Or, preferably, salt. Hang in there, Mason!” he replied, running down the stairs. “Move!” a voice boomed in my head, which I recognized as Daniel’s. Suddenly, my right leg moved forward, against my will. I looked down. My vision was tinted a toxic green, but I could still see my left leg moving as well. “No, no, no, no, no,” I thought furiously, watching helplessly as I walked towards the closet. I tried resisting Daniel’s grip on my body. That just made every step feel more painful, like needles jabbing into my body. As I got within two feet of the closet, I stopped struggling, knowing my life was over. However, my movements were slow. Daniel had taken a whole minute to get through half of the attic in my body. Trevor had come panting up the stairs during the last meter. I turned to Trevor. “Idiot. The boy’s finished,” I heard myself saying.
I was me, and I wasn’t me.
If I had been myself, I never would have willingly shoved my own cousin down the attic stairs. I would never have laughed as I heard the sickening crack as he hit the floorboards below. I wouldn’t have sprinkled the salt he had brought to his eyes. I watched, as my own cousin writhed in pain, rubbing his eyes. Daniel, ignoring Trevor, took control again, making me walk up the attic stairs, stumbling towards the closet. As I struggled, I had a sudden stab of fear when my hand touched the closet door. “No!” I screamed internally. With a burst of willpower, I wrenched my hand away from the door, ignoring the invisible needles stabbing into my skin. “Idiot! Just give up. You’re making this harder for both of us!” Daniel cried, and finally, the stinging, icy pain grew to be too much. I faltered my efforts for a second. However, that second proved to be the end of my life. I looked, helpless, as my hand tugged at the closet door, and pulled it open. Finally, finally, Daniel broke free of my body. I tried desperately to escape the ray of light from the closet, but as soon as I hit the edge, it rebounded back, causing me to stumble to the far side of the ray of light. In this manner, I thrashed, all the while a force pulling me into the closet. Just as Daniel and I were about to fall through, he screamed his last words. “If I can’t have this house, no one can!” he shouted. I saw a blinding flash of white, heard the slamming of the closet door, and closed my eyes. When I opened them, I was standing back outside the closet, in the attic. I looked around. Everything seemed duller in color than before. Maybe that was just because the closet blinded me. I looked at the closet attic door. Stepped over it. “If I’m a ghost now, I can just waft wherever I want, like Daniel had with the garage light incident. I closed my eyes, concentrated a bit…and found myself falling. I hastily stopped the concentration, and found myself on the ground floor. Trevor was still on his hands and knees. “Trevor…Trevor, are you alright?” I asked. He ignored me. I remembered what Devin had told me a few days back. I, being a ghost, would have a few days of invisibility, before I would become visible again. I floated back up to the attic, absolutely miserable. My parents would freak out and break down if they found out I was a ghost. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, I felt a small spark of anger inside me, growing. “They didn’t believe me. If they believed me, we could’ve beat the brothers together, and I would still be alive,” I thought, then stopped. What was I thinking? They were my family. I can’t just think like that! But, then again…I could. I gritted my teeth, trying to shut out the anger, but it grew and grew, until I couldn’t stop it. “They’ll come around to my point of view…as soon as I give them a firsthand experience.”
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