Prompt-tober 2015: Day Twenty-six

Good Monday to you all! I want to try and focus this week on the novel I am going to work on for NaNoWriMo but I need to work out that plan a bit more so today I grabbed a sentence prompt from Write World to work with. And I thought since Halloween is oh so close (Yes!) this one was a good choice to get in the spoopy mood.

-x-

It didn’t look haunted. But the completely see through, human shaped being before me told me that the cliche ‘looks can be deceiving’ was a thing of truth. Also told me that ghosts were a thing, a real thing staring me in the face.

“Why are you here?” The voice is light in pitch but powerful in the sense it feels…alive. Not that I really had an idea how the voice of a ghost would sound but this was definitely a shock. I sitting on a cushion-less bay window bench in the front room, the first one I found after I entered, and she sits (floats?) across from me. She can’t be any older than fifteen, or she wasn’t any older than that when she died I guess. Her hair is split into two low hanging braids, laying flat against her shoulders and her bohemian shirt and bell bottoms tell me she was last living during the 70’s.

Once I realize that I haven’t answered her and she continues to stare at me, slightly agitated, I sit up a little straighter and clear my throat. “Um, well I took a walk looking for a place nobody could find me so I could be alone, ended up across the street from here when I saw this place. It’s been for sale for as long as I can remember and so on a hunch I walked over to see if I could get it in. Door was unlocked, had to give it a good jostle though, and here I am.”

She nods her head in understanding and then slides forward and begins to leave. I am still stunned by the existence of ghosts that she almost makes it out of the room before I shout out, “Wait! Where are you going?”

As she turns to face me a little more her one hand lifts slightly and a single finger points up towards the second floor of the house. “You said you were looking to be alone.”

Figures I’d find a polite ghost, I know I should have questions. Should want to ask her so many things, should want to ask myself why I am not running for the hills by now. But as weird as this all is, it’s also fairly calm. So instead of making a fuss I just sit back against the wall and give her a appreciative nod, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome to come here any time you want to be alone.” she says and then pauses, “or if you want to talk, I’ve learned to be a pretty good listener over the years.” The look on her face looks like she finds the joke funny, but also a little sad too. I am not quiet sure how to respond other than another shake of my head, acknowledging the invitation. She gives a small smile and then looks down and walks out of the room.

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