We adopted Charlotte shortly after we got married. We always knew that we wanted to be parents and we were finally in a position financially to allow that to happen. We had so many plans and dreams for the person she might become–plans for what we’d teach her–an architecture for her entire life; blueprints stolen away from us less than a week after her first birthday.
Category: Supernatural Horror (Page 1 of 4)
I’m always curious about what people are up to when they think no one is watching. I see a lot of things. I have trouble sleeping most nights so I step outside for walks. I find myself out on one of these walks, the shadow of an oak tree shrouding my presence like a curtain, when I see my neighbor do something very strange.
My house is haunted but there is a logical explanation. This is not one of those stories where a tragic death happened inside. No one has ever died here. Still, tragedy surrounds the place; the two windows upstairs at the back gaze sadly out every day. No, this is not a story about a house built on an Indian burial ground. There is no one interred beneath the foundation…only in the yard. Rows and rows of tombstones stretch out past my back door to the tree line beyond. My haunted house stands in a cemetery. The cemetery to which I am now the caretaker.
I don’t like children which is unfortunate to my line of work…I call it work, but it’s torture really. If you are working a job that you hate, you always have the option of resigning…of opting out: of just deciding not to show up…
I’m suspended in the void, floating. Senses fail here, except hearing, which is fine because this is the nothingness; nothing to feel or see. It’s a quiet place–peaceful, like finding yourself adrift in space. Then a familiar voice reminds me to be afraid. I can’t see, but he speaks to me in harsh whispers near my ear, saying:
My cousin Ronnie and I used to chase the ghost train on Granddad’s farm.
The whole family lived on the 174 acres; a railway goes through the center. Grandad said those tracks hadn’t been used in decades. That’s why nobody believed when we started on about the ghost train.