Curiosity Killed the Cat
...But Don't Ever Leave the House
A ghost's un-life is simple. Live in an old mansion with 300 of your closest friends, act like a total downer all the time, and don't complain when you are forced to sleep in a wall for lack of space. Yeah, we ghosts take up just as much space as you living do, especially if you are 163-years-dead Mrs. Jones, but I won't go there.
I'm Mandy; I died at 13 about 70 years ago. Most don't remember how they died, so I can't tell you that, but I bet it involved a wall. Fate would have it that I would constantly have to sleep in the thing that killed me.
"Psst!" a voice hissed from the living room. Mrs. Jones rolled over in her sleep and nudged me further into the room on the other side of my wall.
"What is it?" I grumped, inching away from the flowery bottom pressing against me. A group of pearly, wide-eyed faces peered down at me. Their white stood out boldly against the grey of the older ghosts.
"Come," one whispered. I rose and followed the obnoxiously white ghostlets, until I was floating before the front door. The ghostlets looked expectantly at me.
"Let's see outside," the brightest ghostlet breathed.
"Oh." It was normal for young ghosts to want to see the outside world again, and since they weren't developed, they couldn't open the door themselves. I jiggled the knob and watched the already plate-like eyes of the ghostlets grow even wider.
Crowds of colorful, living beings flocked past our opening door. Oh dear, I thought suddenly, I forgot today was the 31st.
"There is one rule," I suddenly remembered, "You may look outside, but-"
"Look!" the first ghostlet cried. She was pointing to a little girl with cat ears on her head. The ghostlet smiled and drifted towards her.
"Wait no!" I cried, grasping at the air behind her. The other ghostlets rushed to follow. I managed to catch hold of the last little boy before he got out the door. I shouted at the others in the street.
"Come back! They living mustn't see you! They can't-"
"Cynthia, Cynthia!" the first one cried. The cat-girl looked around for the voice. The little ghostlet stopped in front of her and waved a hand in her face. "Cynthia, I'm right here! It's Chloe!"
Cynthia screamed. Her shriek rattled the windows of the mansion. Chloe cocked and eyebrow and then doubled over. Beams of white light shone through rips forming in Chloe's body. The ghostlets closest to the door flooded back into the house, but the ones that didn't make it screamed as they disintegrated into flashes of light.
I closed the door on the screams outside. The remaining ghostlets looked up at me with fear. I gazed around the front room at the now waking faces of the other ghosts.
"You can look outside," I repeated, "but don't ever leave the house." The young ghosts broke down, each sobbing whispy tears for their lost friends.
I'm Mandy; I died at 13 about 70 years ago. Most don't remember how they died, so I can't tell you that, but I bet it involved a wall. Fate would have it that I would constantly have to sleep in the thing that killed me.
"Psst!" a voice hissed from the living room. Mrs. Jones rolled over in her sleep and nudged me further into the room on the other side of my wall.
"What is it?" I grumped, inching away from the flowery bottom pressing against me. A group of pearly, wide-eyed faces peered down at me. Their white stood out boldly against the grey of the older ghosts.
"Come," one whispered. I rose and followed the obnoxiously white ghostlets, until I was floating before the front door. The ghostlets looked expectantly at me.
"Let's see outside," the brightest ghostlet breathed.
"Oh." It was normal for young ghosts to want to see the outside world again, and since they weren't developed, they couldn't open the door themselves. I jiggled the knob and watched the already plate-like eyes of the ghostlets grow even wider.
Crowds of colorful, living beings flocked past our opening door. Oh dear, I thought suddenly, I forgot today was the 31st.
"There is one rule," I suddenly remembered, "You may look outside, but-"
"Look!" the first ghostlet cried. She was pointing to a little girl with cat ears on her head. The ghostlet smiled and drifted towards her.
"Wait no!" I cried, grasping at the air behind her. The other ghostlets rushed to follow. I managed to catch hold of the last little boy before he got out the door. I shouted at the others in the street.
"Come back! They living mustn't see you! They can't-"
"Cynthia, Cynthia!" the first one cried. The cat-girl looked around for the voice. The little ghostlet stopped in front of her and waved a hand in her face. "Cynthia, I'm right here! It's Chloe!"
Cynthia screamed. Her shriek rattled the windows of the mansion. Chloe cocked and eyebrow and then doubled over. Beams of white light shone through rips forming in Chloe's body. The ghostlets closest to the door flooded back into the house, but the ones that didn't make it screamed as they disintegrated into flashes of light.
I closed the door on the screams outside. The remaining ghostlets looked up at me with fear. I gazed around the front room at the now waking faces of the other ghosts.
"You can look outside," I repeated, "but don't ever leave the house." The young ghosts broke down, each sobbing whispy tears for their lost friends.
♠ ♠ ♠
This short story is for Mibba's Halloween Contest. I hope you enjoyed it, and have a spook-tacular Halloween! (Somebody give me a high-five for that awesome pun, come on!)