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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2138986
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Ghost · #2138986
A young girl moves to a new state and makes a new friend
         Erin was twelve years old when her family moved from Beaumont, Texas to Fall River, Massachusetts, because of her father's new position as CFO of the large technology research firm that he worked for. Erin was silent the whole trip up there. She was still brooding over the fact that she had to leave her bff, Amy. The firm had paid all expenses for Erin's dad to move his family to New England, and when they finally arrived, just minutes after the moving van, Erin's eyes were drawn to the old dilapidated, greying Victorian style house next to them.

         "Well, what do you think, hun?" her mom asked her thoughts on the new abode.

         "The house is ok, but really, mom, I want to go back home," came the reply. Erin fought back the tears of losing her best friend, probably for life, but she gave a brave front to her father, who had instructed before they left Texas that "this is the way things work in the grown-up world, and not another mention of staying here in Texas will be made."

         Then, something next door caught her eye. She wasn't sure what it was, but she would swear she saw a curtain move in the old house, as if somebody was watching them from the second story. The only problem with that, was, it was vacated. As a matter of fact, it was boarded up, and slated for demolition by the city, said the notice on the door that Erin read when she had finally gave in to her curiosity. After reading the demo notice, she started poking around on the covered porch, testing the door...locked. The windows all had sheets of greyed plywood on them. Apparently, demolishing this place had taken a back burner to other important city projects. After making her way around the back of the house, she finally found a way in. She slowly opened the basement door, and headed down into the dark abyss.

         Suddenly, right before her stood an apparition. The blood in her veins ran ice cold, and her eyes grew bigger than the saucers in her mom's dinnerware set.

         "Do not be afraid, little girl," the spirit spoke to her. "I will not harm you."

         "Y-Y-You can see me?" Erin stammered, still shaking in her Nikes.

         "I can see you just as well as you can see me," answered the ghost. Then suddenly, the form started materializing, and before Erin knew it, a woman in her early thirties with real pretty hair and wearing a dress that looked to be a hundred years old just appeared right before her very eyes. Erin fainted.

         The next thing she knew, she was waking up on an old Victorian style couch which was covered by a very old dusty bedsheet.

         'Where am I?" she asked, to no one in particular.

         The apparition was still there though, waiting on Erin to open her eyes. "You are at 306 French Street," answered the spirit.

         "Where is that?" Erin asked, shaking the cobwebs from her head. She could have swore she had just dreamed about seeing a female ghost.

         "Next door to your house, sweetie," was the answer. "This is my old house. I lived here a century ago."

         "I want to go home now," announced the young girl, her voice quivering.The moment Erin objected, the house shook from the sound of slamming doors and windows. She was confused. Why would this be happening ? The house was boarded up. She combed the entire house for a single opening before she went in through the basement.

         "What's happening?" asked Erin, terrorized, the look of fear covering her whole face. Tears began sliding down her tan cheeks. "Let me go home!:" she screamed at the ghost.

         "You will go home when I say it is safe to go home, do you understand me?" replied the spirit in an authoritative manner, her face just inches away from Erin's, her eyes glowing an evil red.

         "What do you mean 'safe'?"

         "I have a little chore I have to attend to next door, I won't be long. Are your parents home, little girl?"

         "Yes, they are, but I'm not you're little girl. My name is Erin. What's yours?"

         "Well," the spirit stopped and turned around just long enough to answer Erin, "I was born Elizabeth, but then due to a twist of fate late in life, I became known as Lizzie. Then, after I got through that trauma, I dropped the 'E' off the beginning of my name, and was simply known as Lizbeth."

         "What happened?" Erin asked out of curiosity.

         Lizbeth had made her way into the old kitchen, and Erin seen her reaching for something behind an old antique ice box. "Oh, just a little thing known as murder," answered Lizbeth as she drew a double bladed axe from behind the antique appliance.

         Erin tried to jump up off the couch so she could get home as fast as her legs would carry her, but this thing had done something to her by merely waving her hand. She felt as if though something had glued and taped her to the old couch. Try as she might, she could not break whatever had an invisible hold on her.

         "No! No! No!" the girl screamed at the top of her lungs. "Mom! Dad! Get out! Run for your lives! Help me! Please!" she screamed as loudly as she could, while crying once again.

         "Scream all you want, dearie. Scream until you can't say one word, but it will do you no good," Lizbeth told Erin, the whole while smirking an evil smirk. "No one can hear you. I've had many decades to make this home as soundproof as possible. Not a peep gets outside these walls. Now. You just sit there like a good little girl, and I will be back shortly," she instructed. The ghost disappeared through wall that faced Erin's new house with the axe...


Word count: 996
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2138986