Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds

“What’s that behind the tree?” I muttered.
“Sssshhh,” he cried. “They’ll hear you.”
“Who?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds.”
Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds had died in a tragic fire the summer before last. It was thought to be an accident, but there was talk around the town that it had all been a set up. The couple was out of favor with the community because of their great wealth. They had enough money to practically buy the town. The Reynolds had no children. They hated kids. For what reason, we never knew. They spent most of their time cooped up in their elaborate mansion perched on the edge of town. It was the 12th of July when their home went ablaze. The fire swallowed them like a hungry lion before they could reach the front door. Some were hurt. Others were relieved, the majority indifferent. Most people thought nothing of it because they had never really had much to do with the family anyhow.
“Haven’t you heard?” James alleged. “They’re back for revenge.”
I started to feel the hair on my arms rise.
“No way. Ghosts aren’t real.”
“Think what you want.” He said cautiously. “I’m not going to stay to find out.”
We began to creep past the tree hesitantly and as we did I heard James let out a shriek. I covered my eyes scared of what I might see. Then I heard him giggle.
“You guys suck! I can’t believe you scared me.”
It was our friends Hayley and Brian who had been lurking around. I was relieved, but still a little on edge from the whole situation.
“Nice one you two. Not!”