Ghost of You

I took in a gasp of air as my eyes fled open. I turned over and sat up quickly, glancing out the window. The moon was sinking lower from the sky, and I knew it had to be past midnight. I threw off my covers and tiptoed to the door, pressing my ear against the wood. The house was silent. I opened the door and poked my head out.

“Tom?” a voice whispered.

I jumped, startled, and slammed the door violently, my chest rising and falling with every quick breath. There was a light knock at the door.

“Tom?” Mr. Listing whispered again.

I opened the door a crack, looking out. Even in the dark, I could see the frown plastered on his face.

“S-sorry,” I stammered, opening the door completely. “You scared me. I was going to the bathroom,” I muttered through a yawn, rubbing my eyes.

Mr. Listing nodded. “I'm about to head to the office myself. I have quite a bit of work to do.” He studied me for a second, then smiled. “Get some sleep,” he whispered as he turned and made his way down the stairs.

I nodded and shut the door, staying completely still as I listened. A few minutes later I heard the roar of Mr. Listing's car. I knew now was my chance.


I crept slowly down the hall, listening for any noise or movements of the others as I went. Gently, I pushed in the door of the game room, wincing as it creaked. I stepped inside and shut the door quickly, taking a deep breath as I listened for any movement. Nothing.

The game room was bright. An old-fashioned Pacman game sat against the right wall, bright colors flashing from its Start screen. A collection of lava lamps ran down a shelf in the center of the right wall, all with dizzying colors. The TV sat pressed against the left wall, facing couches arranged in the same fashion as Mr. Listing's study. There was a mini fridge next to the TV in the corner. In front of the lava lamps was a large, round pink table, Sarah's dolls and papers scattered across the top of it. Finally, on the other side of the room, pressed against the right wall, was a black desktop computer.

That's where I was headed.

Nearly sprinting across the room, I sat down abruptly and booted up the computer, keeping my fingers crossed that no one would wake up.

I winced as the light from the computer fell over my face. I grabbed the wireless mouse and clicked open the Internet, drumming my fingers against the oak desk impatiently. When the page finished loading, I quickly typed “dog” into the Google search bar, staring at the page as it loaded.

My mouth dropped to the floor. 611,000,000 results?!

“Shit,” I whispered to myself in disbelief.

I quickly erased the search and typed in “golden retriever”. 14,600,000 results. I threw my head back and groaned. This was going to take a while. A while that I didn't have.

I kept typing in everything I could think of that related to dogs and golden retrievers. I would scroll through some images, skim through a few pages, click through the related searches. Nothing. I didn't know what to look for. At all.

I scrolled to the bottom of the page, after looking through about five pages related to dog bones, and clicked on the related term “doghouses”.

I began to search quickly through the images, when something caught my eye. I clicked on the picture to enlarge it. It was a golden retriever wearing glasses, standing on top of a black banner with white text that read “Doghouse Publishing”.

A feeling washed over my chest. The hair on the back of my neck began to stand, goosebumps prickling my skin.

I hopped from the chair and spun around, clutching the desk. My mouth went dry.

“Bill?!”