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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/523803
Rated: 13+ · Book · Ghost · #1294788
not the book of your death,actually.It's a ghost story.
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#523803 added September 10, 2007 at 12:45pm
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Epilogue
After 40 years….

And old little man was getting closer to a little, clean house from a bright, happy village.

“Good morning, sir” said a little girl, who was like five years old.

“Good morning, cutie!” answered the old man, smiling. “Is mummy home?”

Without other explanation, the girl called her mother.

“Mummy! The sir is here! “

Laughing, her mother, a tall, beautiful woman, with blonde hair, came out.

“Good morning, Mr. … ?”

“You look just like Cait…”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry, I mean, good morning, Mrs. Johnson.”

“Come in, sir.”

“Oh, call me Ryan.”

“OK, Ryan, call me Jessica. Please take a seat!” said the lady. “So, Ryan, where is this house?” asked Jessica, while she was preparing a cup of tea for her guest.

“Right in the middle of Sunsetville.” answered Ryan, looking at her very interested. “Here’s a picture.(he put a picture on the table). I just finished the reparation, and it looks great.”

“It’s beautiful.” said Jessica, putting a cup of tea in front of her guest, and looking at the picture.”And when are we gonna see it?”

“Anytime you want to.” said Ryan, swallowing some tea. “Mmmm… delicious. Here’s the key. (he gave her a key) You can go right now, if you want to.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But I can’t come with you, I have some business to do.”

“No problem.”

After Ryan finished his tea and left, Jessica called her daughters.

“Girls!” she cried tot the first floor. “Cathy! Ellie! Come down stairs! It’s time to visit a house!”

“Is it a big one, Mummy?” asked the little one, from the stairs.

“Very!”

“It better be,” said the big one, a teenager. “I’m sick of this little space!”

“Cathy!”

“What?” asked Cathy innocently.

“Let’s go” said Jessica, categorical.

After a few hours of driving and hundreds of Cathy’s “Are we there yet? Are we going to get there before the next breakfast? I’m hungry” (little Ellie was asleep), they were finally in front of a big white house, with two floor, and a garden without flowers.

“We’ll take care of it” thought Jessica, looking at the garden.

“Wow” said Cathy, “This IS a really big shit. First floor is mine!”

“Cathy!”

“What now?” asked Cathy, again full of innocence.

“Let’s get inside.” said Jessica, still thinking about the flowers.

The house was empty (no furniture), and it was big. But, since they got in, the girls felt as if they weren’t wanted there.

“OW!” screamed Cathy.

“What is it?”

“Something… pulled my hair! But Ellie’s still in the car, sleeping, isn’t she?”

“Huh?”

“Oh… never mind.”

They were in a very big room downstairs, room that Jessica presumed it was the living room.

“This house is ENORMOUS!” said loudly and enthusiastically Cathy.

“Ssst! Not so loud!” whispered Jessica,

“Why?”

Jessica didn’t know why she’d said that, but added:

“Just do as I say.” And wanted to get out of the room, heading to the other door of the room (there were two, face to face.). But that one closed suddenly, and locket with a ‘click’, as if it didn’t want to let them leave.

“What is happening?” asked Cathy, trying to remain silent. “Mom?”

On the other side of the room, something scratched the wall.

“Stupid rats.” said Cathy. “Ellie?”

But Ellie was still sleeping in the car. The door that remained opened after the two entered the room seemed to shake a little. On the other room, two silhouettes could be distinguished: a teenage girl, and a young woman, both looking as if they had been burned… Cathy was petrified.

“DO SOMETHING, WOMAN!” she shouted to her mother, who seemed to wake then.

The silhouettes were getting closer, hypnotically, Cathy screamed again, and Jessica tried to open the door. The silhouettes were still getting closer, shaking, like in an endless nightmare.

After the silhouettes entered the room, Jessica managed to open the door. Scared, she and Cathy tried to find the exit, running in the house. They were confused, but finally reached the hall. (“This house is damn big” concluded Cathy, but Jessica didn’t say “Cathy!” this time.) There was another silhouette, which seemed to expect them. It was an old lady, sitting on a chair which neither Jessica nor Cathy observed before, and reading a book. The old lady looked at them, and behind them, the other two silhouettes were again getting closer.

Jessica pushed Cathy through a door (“hey! Watch the hair!”), and followed her.

“What is happening?” asked Cathy, shaking, with tears in her eyes.

The house started to shake and it looked like the walls were going to fall on them in any minute. There were whispers everywhere.

“… don’t want to hurt you… Ryan must pay… Ryan will die…”

Scared, Jessica got off the room, pulling Cathy, and trying to ignore those three silhouettes from the hall, threw Cathy in the car, and herself, forgetting all about her obsession with the seat belt, and she pushed the acceleration, without turning on the engine.

“Mom… turn it on…” said Cathy. The house was crumbling.

“Right.” said Jessica. Ellie was still sleeping on the back seat. Cathy looked at her.

“We’ll tell her that we don’t like the house” said Jessica. “She will be disappointed, but… (she turned her eyes to Cathy) she’ll get over it.”

Behind them, they left a ruin. Deep buried in the house’s rubbles, Julie Regall smiled.

Ryan, who didn’t even care about Caitlin and Brian’s bodies (he even told the Carters that Julie wasn’t in the house. “She must’ve ran away.”), had decided to pay a lot o money for the house’s reconstruction (yes, on the bodies!), and to win even more money by selling it. But his entire plan was ruined, and so, he would die alone in his sorrow, tormented by the memory of his wife Caitlin, and his step-son Brian, with his tears that never fell on Caitlin’s grave, and regrets he had only when we saw the house… He would be buried in an anonymous grave… and Julie, Caitlin and Miranda could finally rest in peace…



                                        It was, at last, peace and justice…





This is, my dear friend,
The Book of Death.
I respect and appreciate you,
for reading it,


Bill Death .

                                                          >The End<

                                                                                  2nd July 2007 – 5th August 2007
© Copyright 2007 Alyssa DarK (UN: alyssa_dark at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Alyssa DarK has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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