Writing Prompt!

Prompt: A girl discovers a ghost.

Write for 10 minutes. Post your piece to comments.

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Posted on September 29, 2016, in Writing Prompt. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. Claire knew that she wasn’t like other people; she heard voices in the dark, made friends with them even. The voices would agree to keep quiet as long as she was there to keep them company on particularly long nights. However, she never expected to see them.

    She awoke to it standing at the end of her bed, staring at her. It didn’t have a face, only the brief outline of eye sockets and a nose, with cloth covering where the mouth would be. She knew that she should have been scared, but she wasn’t… and she didn’t know why.

    It made a gurgling noise and stepped forward slightly, as if asking for permission to sit next to her. She looked at it as it sat down on the bed. Her curiosity consumed her and she reached forward to take the cloth off of its mouth.

    As soon as the cloth was off it began to make a noise akin to a woman’s heels clicking on a wooden floor as she walked. She looked down at the piece of cloth in her hands, it was frayed at the edges and stained to a sickly shade of yellow.

    Suddenly, it draped its arms around her petite frame, almost as if it was thanking her. She looked back to the cloth and blinked. As soon as she looked up the creature was gone. Back into the shadows of her room.

    Though she could no longer see it, she could tell that it was still there, and just knowing that, made her feel a little bit safer as she drifted back to sleep.

  2. Why do people get struck with fear when they hear a rustling in the trees? Or a whistle in the wind? Unknown. Fear of the unknown. Perhaps I was startled quite a bit myself that night when I heard those noises, I wanted to run away from what I didn’t understand. I didn’t run away, however, but sat frozen in the dark. I hate to be one of those people who start with “it was a dark and stormy night…” but if I told you that it wasn’t, I would be lying.

    I turned on my flashlight, almost blinding myself after realizing that I was holding it in the wrong direction, making my vision worse than it already was. With a sigh I stood to investigate, my sight covered with spots from the flashlight. Looking to my right, I could have sworn I saw a shadow, but my human instincts took over and told me to keep walking like I was some puppet and fear was pulling my strings.

    A large crash came from a distance, and rubbing my eyes to clear my vision, a figure appeared in front of me. A human figure. Any normal person who had just discovered a ghost standing before them would probably run in the opposite direction, at least that’s what they did in the movies, yet I just stood there. I had seemed to forget how to speak or breath, and the only noises in the house was thunder and ringing in my ears.

    Perhaps the discovery of my fear was more frightening than the ghost standing before me.

  3. She had this look on her face. I had tried for hours to convince her to open her mouth and let go of the shock that remained paled in her skin, “Allahna, what is it that you saw? What scared you in the garden?” Yet again her dark brown eyes met mine. Something was different; they glimmered now where they never had before.

    A back and forth pitter-patter of trying to get her to speak, with no response, I took it upon myself to drag her back to the garden. She stood at its entrance. No hesitation; no shaking in her boots. She opened her hand and appeared to have her eyes closed. In that exact moment, a flower was plucked from the foliage grasping the trellis entrance, and was placed into her hand. No one had touched it, and she hadn’t done it; it appeared the wind had grasped it tight and laid it in her hand.

    She opened her eyes when she felt the petals plop on her skin. She stared at it, in awe of its bright pink hue. Yet she still was just as pale as before. I knelt at her side, “Allahna, what scared you in the garden?” She looked back at me with once again, glimmered eyes. She clutched the flower in her hand, and finally spoke, “The placement of the flower or garden doesn’t scare me.. Its who handed me the flower that frightens me.” She gives it a will? A person of substance? Yet all I saw was a flower floating to her hand.

    “Allahna, who handed you this flower?” She smiled, and then lost her train of thought and paled again. She let go of the flower, “Eden. Eden handed it to me.”

    The pink petals hit the ground before her last word came out; the muddled petal colors now reflected how this instance felt. This was Edens garden.

  4. The fear of the dark may seem irrational to some, but to me, it was one of the most logical things in my life. Growing up in an era of special effects and cheesy horror movies, it was normal for kids to have a nightlight illuminating their room throughout the night. However, I was far from normal. Night after night I would sit up in fear, wondering what type of monster would try and take me until I got so scared that I would bolt out of bed and run into my closet. There, with the light on, I would find shelter and eventually pass out.

    I can still feel the same fear that I had in my younger years, but now there is a different reason behind it. There are no monsters, only a girl. I see her throughout the day, with most of the sightings taking place between the hours of 1 and 6 AM. All common sense tells me that this is impossible, but something in the back of my mind reassures me that all of what I am experiencing is real.

    What happens when she is around is indescribable, as none of the words in the English dictionary would do her justice. She is mystifying and mischievous, my opposite. She can open and close doors from across the room, tell me what I am thinking, and convince people to do the wildest things.

    For as long as I live, I will never be rid of this ghost, this apparition. I will see her everywhere I go and every time I look in the mirror. I mean, she is my twin after all. I just wish I could talk to her without worrying everyone. I miss the days from when before she got sick.

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