A Ghosts' Story

Chapter 12

Chapter 11 took forever to write and it ain't even that good what the fu-
-Back to our regularly scheduled program.
—Question of the week; Have you eaten today? Because you should
Third Person POV
Tubbo happily skips to Tommy's to inform him of their upcoming streams and to ask if he wanted to be in any. He knocks on the door and waits for a response, only to not receive one.

Tubbo quietly opens the door to no one in there? 'But I coulda sworn he went to his room?'.

Opening the door more, he looks around Tommy's room, it's an average room, he got fan mail someone made of cat and mellohi hanging on his wall. There was a bookshelf in the corner, almost seemed out of place in the room otherwise tommyfied.

Tubbo walks to it to find all kinds of different books, some Tommy would read- and some Tommy wouldn't. He notices one in particular, it looks older then all the other books, the cover, well covered in dust. The book was so worn he couldn't make out the title, not yet at least.

In a spur of the moment, tubbo took the book and went back to his room, the book intriguing him.

Tommy's POV
I cough as I enter the dust covered room, I found this attic after I saw a door in the ceiling of the dining room. I didn't think this house would have an attic and it shocked me that I didn't find it sooner.

I wouldn't called for tubbo to come with me, but he was streaming and I didn't want to rush him.

The room is what I can only describe as dusty. There was dust everywhere, seems like no one had found this room in ages. It was almost alarming how much dust could accumulate over the span of five years.

I look around and see that the room is fairly empty, except for a bookshelf and a chair. In the chair was a green outline holding a book.

"Phil?", I ask the outline, the outline seems to jump from my sudden question. I walk over to the outline, watching as it gains more shape, and turns into the person I saw in the mirror that calmed me down in the bathroom all that time ago.

"Tommy... what are- you doin- up here-", Phil asks, albeit a bit broken. Talking used up a lot of energy when comunicativo with someone alive, I guess.

"I didn't know we had an attic, and tubbo was streaming, so I thought I'd check it out on my own", I respond, walking up to the bookcase.

There were many old books up here, all reminding me of the books I have in my room.
'Why do I keep it there, I don't read that much?' I thought to myself.

I look at the dusty covers and most of them are about the study of life, ranging from plants to people. Some, though, are on theories of the afterlife, ranging from heaven to reincarnations.

One book in particular catcher my eye, a book of spiritual theory. I crack it open and a cloud of dust escapes the book. I cough for a bit, the dust cutting off my oxygen. I felt a faint press on my back and I turn to see Phil trying to help. I smile and send him a thumbs up to signal I'm okay.

Back to the book, I look at the page I opened it up to and saw that it was talking about spirits, how to talk to them through cards, radio sounds, and many different things.

I flip a few more pages, but the summary is that this book just explained how to talk to spirits and how spirits come to haunt houses.

From the book, it tells me that only ghosts that go through a traumatic death can haunt the place of their death. Images from the dream I had flash through my mind and my body shudders. Definitely traumatic.

I close the book and double check the bookshelf for any book that could be of importance. There's one on mediums, so I grab it, maybe me or tubbo could be a medium, that's be cool.

I glance over the shelf again, and don't spot a book, so I go down the ladder from the attic and I make a bee-line to my room. I look at my book shelf and notice a book is missing, but seeing as it wasn't one of my personal ones, I let it slide and continued my walk to the bed.

I open the book on mediums and start reading, hoping that some of this stuff is familiar.

Tubbo's POV
I reread the book I stole from Tommy, this time, I take my time, being dyslexic can be a pain at times. It talked about ghosts and how they don't have to be chained to their place of death forever. There's a way to let the ghosts move on!

I feel a smile on my face knowing that we could free the ghosts from this prison of memories. They must remember dying on this same land, then having to watch them rebuild a house on top of their graves. My smile drops at that thought.

What if they knew this and don't want to leave? A voice in my head asks. I furrow my eyebrows, that is true, they have been here for five years. They might not have left on purpose.

Then again, they've only been ghosts for five years, whose to say they know what they're doing?

I sigh, all this thinking has given me a headache. I close the book and lay on my bed, closing my eyes for a moment.. or so I thought. I fall asleep rather quickly after closing my eyes.