The Murders of Cozy Hollow

Chapter 8 - The Girl in the White Nighty

A blanket of darkness fell over Cozy Hollow. The Stone house was quiet except for the occasional creek. A warm breeze bumped up against the house while a symphony of crickets sang outside. The Stone boys were exhausted from their day of sun and fun at the pool. Ed did one final bed check before he turned in for the night. The anticipation of seeing Charlotte Beaumont's ghost in the night again was driving him crazy. He closed the master bedroom door and shut off the light. He rested on the bed in his boxer shorts more excited than scared. Even with the air conditioning blasting away upstairs, Ed kept on sweating. It took him over an hour, but his eyes finally closed and he fell into a deep sleep.

No Charlotte.

***

Gretchen Beaumont did not live to see her twelfth birthday. Had she grown into her teen years, she would have been a handful. The third born Beaumont daughter marched to the beat of her own drummer. Her oldest sister, Alexandra, had been bold and ambitious. Her next oldest sister, Juliet, had been prim and proper. Her younger sister, Emma, was all smiles and spunk. Gretchen was the Beaumont sister that pushed the boundaries. A wild child. Even at the ripe old age of eleven, she was smart and precocious beyond her years. On top of all that, Gretchen was gorgeous and she knew it. Even after her untimely passing, she was one restless undead soul.

***

Joe slept like a baby that night. He hated to admit it but the pool was a lot of fun. He felt a little bad telling Willow it would be lame. No matter, he was excited to go back the next day. At twelve, Joe could recover from the loss of his mother and the cross country move better than the others. His wisecracking personality helped protect his tough veneer. He could adapt to most challenges but he had no idea what was in store for him.

That night, he would meet his match.

It happened around three o'clock in the morning. While deep in slumber, a thump awoke Joe. Confused, he sat up and surveyed his bedroom. The bare windows allowed enough moonlight to come into the room and ease the adjustment of his pupils. At first, he thought maybe Tank had ventured into his room and plopped down on the floor. Joe did not see his dog anywhere and his door was still shut. Seconds before Joe was about to lay his wiry head back down onto his pillow, he caught sight of something in the dark corner opposite his bed. Again, he thought it might be Tank but as he looked closer, he confirmed it was no dog. He saw a small bare foot. It was the foot of a child. The rest of the child was cloaked by the dark shadow.

"Hello?" said Joe.

No answer. The foot quickly retreated into the black shadow. Joe blinked his eyes to clear his sight.

"I saw that," he continued. "Is that you, Will? What, you can't sleep?"

"I'm not Will," said a young and distinctly female voice.

"Whoa!"

Joe jumped back in his bed, frightened and shocked to hear the voice of a stranger in his bedroom.

"Are you scared of me?" said the voice.

"What the hell? Who's there?"

"You're scared of me, aren't you? I'm just a girl."

"I'm not scared!"

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not!"

Joe took his pillow and threw it at the dark corner. After a beat, the pillow was thrown back at him.

"You can't kill me with a pillow, silly boy."

"Come out. Show yourself."

"First, tell me your name."

"Joe. Joe Stone."

"Hello, Joe, nice to meet you."

"What's your name?"

"Gretchen," the girl said as she rose to her feet and emerged from the shadow. "Gretchen Beaumont is my name."

Joe was mesmerized. Gretchen stood before Joe in a short white nighty with long dark hair. Beautiful and very young like Joe. A thin preteen, she was not developed, with a stick for a body.

"Did you say Beaumont?"

"Yes."

"Are you related to the Beaumonts who died here?"

"I'm one of the Beaumonts who died here."

"Holy shit, you're a frickin' ghost??"

"I suppose I am."

"Are you gonna suck my blood or something?"

"I'm not a vampire, silly."

"What're you doing here?"

"I live here."

"We live here. My dad just bought this house."

"We've lived here for a long, long time."

"We?"

"Yes, we."

"Is this a dream?"

"Afraid not, Joe Stone."

"Did you wash our dog?"

"Yes, he was filthy. What's his name?"

"Tank. What do you want from me?"

"I want to sleep in your bed with you tonight. Move over. It's been many years since there was a bed in my room."

Joe didn't know what to say. He watched as Gretchen crawled into bed with him and curled up into the fetal position beside him. Her back and tiny shoulders faced his head. Joe stared at the ceiling paralyzed with fear. Did he really have a ghost in his bed? He was freaking out. Should he scream for help? Should he run for his life? Or was she truly harmless?

Then he smelt her. She smelt like fresh flowers. She smelt wonderful. Joe realized he'd never been that physically close to a girl before, albeit Gretchen Beaumont was no ordinary girl. Besides, he figured there was still a strong possibility it was all just a dream.

Joe turned onto his side and simply watched her sleep until he too drifted off.