Flash Fiction Anthology

Sara's ghost

At last, I was at home.

The lofty, mock-Tudor gables of the time-worn mansion flickered through the rustling foliage resembling yellow canaries tethered to the ancient trees surrounding it on all sides, like silent guards trying to conceal it from curious eyes of the more adventurous dog-walkers who strayed here from the remote village.

There were not many of them, if they admitted it openly or not, the couple of thousands souls inhabiting the village considered the bleak house haunted, just like their ancestors.

I smiled at the recollection of those days long past when I was a schoolgirl, and when one pointed look from 'spooky Sara' piercing an annoying classmate was enough to make them bolt so fast they stumbled over their own feet. Those times when Grandma was still alive...

I used to love this house, I loved it still. I would never have left had she not died.

Once she passed away, joining my deceased parents wherever they were, I could not stay here alone. Not because I was afraid-- despite grandma's stories fuelling my imagination, making me shiver and look over my shoulder each night when I climbed the creaky staircase to my room, I wasn't scared of her ghosts, they were an inseparable part of her, of this house. They were its very soul. Still, once she was gone, I had to leave too. Without Grandma the empty walls screamed with silence and desolation, threatening to deafen and suffocate me.

I escaped, leaving the memories, and the ghosts behind, like my moniker. The years I spent studying, then working in towns so distant and different that they seemed extraterrestrial, where I was reborn, becoming a new person far enough from Grandma's haunted house, its soaring gables casting shadows over me, followed each other at fast pace, rushing me towards the future.

I was happy, even though I always missed this place a little, until I took a few false steps, arriving at a point in my life from where I didn't want to go on, reaching a moment when it was time to turn back and return home.

Searching my pockets for keys, I observed the tips of my black shoes peeking from underneath my jeans. They were covered in dust... I shook my head, trying to stifle the sudden whirlwind of thoughts and questions wreaking havoc in my mind. I've been walking, without a break, for days... Why?... Where from?... A memory of there being something wrong with my car flared, vanishing before I could grab hold of it. How strange, I could not remember...

As I climbed up the handful of steps leading to the porch, the autumnal wind playing with the shrivelled leaves abandoned them momentarily to come examine me, mussing my hair, making me shiver. The summer was definitely over.

I slid my key in the lock, thinking about all those things I would need to check, see if everything worked well in this house before I would settle here again. Electricity, heating, water-- something was bound to be broken, or shut off after all these years of abandon.

The cracked wooden door creaked as it opened and gave way, disturbing the dust motes that gathered on the floors in my absence, sending them to chase each other, swirling in the musty air filling the space around me.

I let the door shut, realising that the bag I was about to drop to the floor was not on my shoulder any longer. Did I leave it in the car?

I shook my head again; it didn't matter. I was at home, in the haunted gabled house I had missed too much.

Haunted... I could feel the ghostly inhabitants of this place now, stronger than ever before. But I did not mind. They belonged here as much as I did, and I welcomed their presence. At least I was not alone.

I strolled from one room to another, removing the once white sheets from the antique furniture, sweeping dust off threadbare carpets, until it got dark. Then I walked into my old bedroom and fell asleep on the unmade bed, promising myself to resolve all other issues the following day.