Haunted
Memories
by Sarah Gardner
Some
people swore that the house was haunted. It was my house they were talking
about. I suppose you might say they had good reason to think it was haunted,
but I wouldn't say it was. For farther back than I can remember, I have lived
there. It had been in my family for generations. I was born there; so was my
father and his father before him. The nooks and crannies of that house were as
well known to me as my own mother's face. My brothers and sisters and I loved
to play whatever games we fancied, using the whole inside of the house as our
playground. Often I would go up to the attic. I remember the half-sized door
leading out to the open widow's walk. Of all the places in the house, that was
my favorite. I spent a lot of time there. So it's not surprising that up on the
widow's walk was where the accident happened.
We
were playing hide and seek tag one crisp autumn morning. We were playing inside
because Momma expected company soon, and she didn't want us to get our clothes
dirty. I remember I hid up in the attic, amongst the moth-eaten boxes and old
dusty portraits. My sister was coming up the stairs, and I sat, as quiet as an ant, afraid she would
hear even the slightest breath.
As
it was, she found me immediately, but I was too quick; before she could tag me
I dashed out from behind a box, banging my knee. I dashed to the small door
leading out to the widow's walk and blindly flung it open. I was wholly
absorbed in the game and nothing else mattered. So I rushed out onto the
widow's walk, clambered over the railing, and onto the slanted roof.
“Elizabeth!”
My sister called
“Can't
catch me now!” I taunted, ignoring her pleas.
Welch 2
“Just
come in off the roof, you'll fall! I promise I won't tag you!” But I , stubborn
as an ox, began to move farther away from her, balancing along the roof and
lightly stepping along.
And
then I fell. I don't remember the falling part, or even hitting the ground. I
remember a shocked surprise, and blackness.
When
I opened my eyes I was standing in the living room. My mother and father, and
all my siblings, as well as several of the closest neighbors, were all gathered
around. A moment later I realized some of them were crying. My mother was
sobbing into my father's shoulder, my brothers sitting in shocked silence. A
neighbor lady was patting my sister's arm. What was going on? I moved toward my
parents, to see why Momma was crying and why my father had a blank look on his
face. They paid no attention to me.
I
circled the room, every now and then approaching someone to ask him or her what
was happening, but no one seemed to hear me, or see me. A dark suspicion was
creeping up in my mind, but I shoved it away.
For
several weeks after the accident, I stayed with my family, but they acted as
though they didn't know I was there. That was when people began to whisper that
the house was haunted. I suppose a few of my actions must have been felt, or
sensed, by some. It wasn't long before my family moved. I didn't go with them.
And nothing was ever the same after that.
47. Some People Swore the House Was Haunted
Other posts relating to the writer, are HERE
3, Tiffany
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