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Rated: E · Short Story · Ghost · #1245884
Ghost haunts a girl and has frightning ending. please read if you like scary stories.
13 years ago a girl died at no 13 Unfortunate Street. Now a new girl approached this house.

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“Mum, why here? Why this house? Why not the house down Annabelle’s road?” Chelsea moaned. She wished she didn’t have to move. She wished she didn’t have to move to this house. Her old house was so warm, so comforting. Chelsea hated this house. It was a big mansion with tall dead trees towering over it. People thought it was haunted and Chelsea believed them. Her friend Rhiannon told her it’s stupid, ghosts don’t exist but Chelsea wouldn’t listen.

Dad opened the creaking door slowly and put the big rusty key in his pocket.

“Go pick your new room.” Mum suggested, trying to cheer Chelsea up. She sighed and trudged up the stairs and saw 4 doors. Each had something written on them. The first door said bathroom, the second mum & dad, the third Chelsea and the forth Tony. But this isn’t what scared Chelsea; it was the words were written in blood.

“Mum! Mum! Mum!” Chelsea raced down the stairs and through the hall. “Mum! Mum!”

“What ever is the matter dear?” Mum said.

“There’s writing on the wall. There’s blood on the wall!” Chelsea said, out of breath.

“Don’t be silly dear. No one has lived in this house for about 13 years.” Mum said, not lifting her eyes from a magazine she was reading.

“But mum! Come see for yourself!” Chelsea yelled, panic stricken. Mum put her magazine down and marched up the stairs.

“No writing, no blood but a little girl with a very wild imagination.” Mum said glancing at the doors, then looking a Chelsea.

“But-“

“But nothing. Have you picked your room?” Mum stopped her.

“Yes.” Chelsea said pointing to the room that previously had Chelsea written on it.

“Then go and unpack before tea.” Said mum as she walked away to read her magazine.


Chelsea was to scared to eat. She twirled her spaghetti on her fork and pushed her meatballs around her plate. Chelsea felt sick. She put down her fork and ran up to her room.

“Mummy, what’s up with Chelsea?” Tony asked as he watched her.

“Chelsea is sad about leaving her friends. She’ll be right as rain soon.” Mum said staring at her plate of spaghetti bolognaise.

In her room, Chelsea lay on her bed and tried to get thoughts of ghosts out her head. Her new room was just as she wanted it – white silk curtains, soft white sheets and sky blue walls with clouds painted above her head. Strangely, Chelsea hated it. The curtains were too white, sheets too soft, walls too blue, clouds too perfect. It was as though the ghost wanted her to be happy. Chelsea rolled into a ball and shivered in the cold, too scared to pull the duvet over her. Soon she fell into a deep sleep.


CHELSEA MUST DIE!!! CHELSEA MUST DIE!!! GET OUT MY HOUSE OR DIE!!! GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!!! AFTER YOU WILL BE YOUR BROTHER, YOUR MOTHER, YOUR FATHER, THEN FRIENDS YOU HAVE YET TO MAKE!!! WATCH OUT CHELSEA!!! WATCH OUT!!!

Chelsea woke up with a start. Sweat dripped down her forehead. She put her head back down on the pillow, panting heavily. She looked at her watch. 3.15am. She rolled over and closed her eyes. Chelsea was wide-awake. Slowly she tip toed across the room to her wardrobe and opened her over night bag. She took out her oldest bear – Lilac – that her grandmother had given her when she was a baby. Even thought she was too old for toys she hugged him and kissed his nose before climbing back into bed.


Chelsea stood at the bus stop and couldn’t stop thinking about the dream and the writing. What ever it was that wrote the words wanted her out or she would die. She couldn’t die. She couldn’t let her family die. She couldn’t let Annabelle and Rhiannon die. Chelsea didn’t know what to do. Her mum wouldn’t believe her. Annabelle might but Rhiannon was an ante-ghost person. She would never believe. But Chelsea decided to tell them both anyway.

“Hi Chelsea, what’s up?” Annabelle said at school before drama.

“Yeah, how was moving?” Rhiannon added.

“OK I got to tell you two a secret. In here.” Chelsea pointed to the toilets.

“OK, what’s the big secret?” Rhiannon asked inside the toilets.

“A ghost wants to kill me. And mum and dad and Tony. And then it’s coming after you two as well.” Chelsea said slowly.


“Yeah right, as if. I have told you time and time again - GHOSTS AREN’T REAL! God! How many times do you have to be told before you listen?” Rhiannon shouted.

“But it’s true! When I first went upstairs there was writing in blood on the doors and I had a dream last night that the ghost told me it was going to kill me and everyone I love!” Chelsea cried, “Why won’t you listen?”

“Don’t be so mean Rhiannon!” Annabelle gave Rhiannon and mean look as Chelsea cried into her shoulder.

“Sorry Chelsea, I just don’t believe. I’m sorry.” Rhiannon said hugging her.

“Hey, it’s OK. We all have our beliefs.” Chelsea sniffed. “It’s me! I’m over reacting. It was just a dream and a trick of the light. Sorry Rhiannon. Group hug everyone.”


“We’re going out! We’re going out! We’re going out! We’re going out!” Tony sang as Chelsea walked though the door. “We’re going out! We’re going out! We’re going out! We’re going out!”

“Get your best dress on Chelsea, we’re going out to dinner.” Mum said. “We’re celebrating moving.”

“At least we’ll be out the house.” Chelsea muttered under her breath.

“What did you say dear?” Mum said.

“I can’t wait.” Chelsea smiled.

Chelsea hated going out. Or rather she hated going out with her family. Tony would shout and scream if anything bad happened, mum would fuss over him and dad would be just plain weird. But at this time she just wanted to get away from the house, away from the ghost.


Chelsea ran up to her room and grabbed Lilac. That evening was dreadful. Tony had vomited on her dress, then mum acted like she couldn't care less about my dress and fussed about Tony. Then dad had ordered the wierdest thing on the meanu! She pulled the covers over her head and fell asleep.

CHELSEA!!! CHELSEA!!! WAKE UP!!! WAKE UP!!!

Someone was crying.

CHELSEA, BABY!!! CAN YOU HEAR ME!!!

Some she knew was calling her.

SHE’S GONE!!! THERE’S NOTHING YOU COULD DO? YOU LET MY BABY DIE!!! MY FIRST BORN!!! DEAD!!!

Someone was shouting.

OH MY GOD!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE I DIDN’T BELIEVE HER WHEN SHE SAID A GHOST WAS GOING TO KILL HER!!!

It was Rhiannon.

I DIDN’T BELIEVE HER EITHER!!! WE’RE BOTH TO BLAME!!! WE SHOULD HAVE LISTENED!!!

That was Annabelle.

WHY IS CHELSEA NOT WAKING UP? WHY? TELL ME!!! MUMMY WHY ISN’T SHE WAKING UP!!!

Chelsea woke up.

“OH MY GOD!! It does want to kill me!” Chelsea said, not caring if anyone heard. “I can’t stay here!”

She jumped out of bed and ran to her wardrobe. She grabbed 3 pairs of jeans and 7 tops, plus underwear. All this and Lilac and her overnight bag all got stuffed into her small pink suitcase. She put her warmest PJs on, grabbed her coat and silently pulled her case down the stairs, though the hall, into the kitchen and out the back door.

The night was dark and spooky. An owl hooted. Chelsea shivered. She felt someone was watching her but when she looked around the street was empty. She turned a corner and sighted the park. She rushed over, her case getting stuck in the odd gap between the pavement stones. Chelsea crept be hide the flower beds and into the bushes where she lay down and slept with out any dreams that night.


“CHELSEA!!! YOUR BREAKY IS GETTING COLD!!!” Mum shouted up the stairs. “Where is that girl? Not still sulking about that dress. God.”

“Mummy, Chelsea not here.” Tony said spreading jam on his toast.

“Not now, Tony.” Mum said cooking the bacon. “CHELSEA!!!”

“But mum-” Tony pulled at her dress.

“Tony, stop it.” Mum said. “She’ll miss her bus.”

“No she won’t.” Tony argued.

“What do you mean ‘she won’t’?” Mum looked at him strangely.

“She’s not upstairs. She’s not down here. She’s not anywhere in this house! She’s run away!!! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Tony cried.

“OH MY GOD!!!” Mum dropped the bacon and ran to the phone and dialled 999. “Help police! I want to report a missing person.”


“Hello!” A girl called as she stood over Chelsea.

“Who are you?” Chelsea said as she woke up.

“I’m Minnie, who are you?” Minnie asked.

“C-Chelsea. Err…nice to meet you…I think.” Chelsea stammered.

Minnie was as tall as Chelsea and looked the same age. She had short brown hair with a blue Alice band in it. She wore a blue hoodie and had blue tracksuit bottoms on. A huge smile was spread across her face. Chelsea had no idea why.

“Are you OK? You look a little peaky.” Minnie asked.

“I’m fine. Boy, you ask a lot of questions.” Chelsea said eyeing Minnie.

“He he – I do that a lot.” Minnie giggled. “What you don’t like it? You want me to stop? Just ask!”

“You’re freaking me out here.” Chelsea said wide-eyed.

“Oh gosh I’m sorry! Others say that.” Minnie frowned. “Maybe that’s why.”

“Why what?” Chelsea asked.

“Look who’s asking questions now. He-he!” Minnie said.

“Just answer the question.” Chelsea said hatefully.

“Maybe that’s why they killed me!” Minnie smiled her grin inhuman.

“You – you’re the g-ghost!” Chelsea cried.

“Yes. And are you still in my house? Yes! And what did I say would happen? You die? Yes.” Minnie giggled menacingly as she pulled a knife from her pocket.

“No! NO!” Chelsea screamed but Minnie didn’t listen. Her eyes were suddenly blood red as she walked towards Chelsea. Chelsea crawled back further into the bush until Minnie pounced.


Later that day Chelsea’s mother found her daughter’s blood stained body lying in the grass. She took the body back to the house and laid it on the bed. The entire of Chelsea's family were summoned. Also Annabelle and Rhiannon could not be stopped from coming as well, after all they where Chelsea's best friends. The whole family wept but Annabelle and Rhiannon cried harder than anyone for they knew that soon all of the people in that room including themselves would die. And guess what, the ghost always keeps a promise and they did die in the same horrible way that Chelsea did.

So know you know, if a ghost tells you something it will happen no matter if you believe it or not.
© Copyright 2007 Rhiannon (sweetheart12 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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