CHAPTER 1
Gifts shouldn’t be taken for granted.
Gifts are unique, they are what create personalities and life long friends.
My gift? I can see ghosts. Dead people. Spirits of those t
Theyre everywhere you know. Not just in cemetaries. They live among us. Not all should be feared. Like the ones ive seen many of times.But there are some, some that jut don’t want to be dead. Some that will do anything to live again. Those ones, should be feared.
I wish my dad would drive faster. At this rate, the ghosts will be gone. I frowned at that thought and leaned back into my seat. My dad always makes me late for our get together. I looked out the window and saw the sign.
‘Willow Falls Cemetery’
My smile widened at the corners of my lips and I sat upright to see if they were still there.
“Dad, quick! Theyre gonna leave! Just stop here.” The car pulled up along side the cemetery and I quickly got out, running to the gate. I unlocked it and ran inside to the grave with a headstone engraved ‘Charlotte Mckinen’.
The smiles on their faces widened. As did mine.
“Sorry, Dad was driving slow again.”
“That’s ok. We knew you would come. You always do.” We all sat around eachotherthen. The sound of her voice was comforting, as it always was.
I looked around the cemetery, Headstones of every size shape and colour lay scattered across the green field. The forest behind it, dark and gloomy as always. That was our place. Our safe place. From the bad ones.
“Did you see them? Are they here?” I frowned and piuted, moving closer to her
“No darling, they aren’t here today. Its safe. The bad ones wont trouble you today.” Her smile lit up the place.
“Well, lets go then.” I quickly got up and ran into the forest, towrd our litte safe house I built out of trees and vines. It looked like a dome, covered in brown vines and twined branches. This was our safe house. Our home away from home.
Then we were stopped. The dark clouds that were The Bad Ones stood before us. Frozen in fear, I stood. Not a word or movement left my body. The Bad Ones were here.
“Abby, dear. Come with me. Come on, walk backwards.” The sound of her voice, again so reassuring, made me take steps backwards. Away from them. Immediately without thought I ran. Ran anywhere but there. The Bad Ones. They were after me. They were coming. I knew this day would come. They wanna take me away. They want me to leave her. Tey want me to leave the world and join them. My gift is powerful to them. Apperently I can do so much more, I just havnt discovered it yet. The powers I posses make them fear me, but yet they still come after me at every chance they can.
(8 years later)
I grew up playing tea parties with ghosts til about two years ago. I just stopped going. I don’t know why. Maybe I thought I would lose my gift by now. But no. I still see them. No the ones I remember from the cemetery, different ones. Some old, some new, some that look a hundred years old, some just kids.
My ‘gift’ isn’t always good like you would think, sometimes it annoys me. Maybe I don’t wanna see dead people anymore. Maybe I sick of the fact that I almost cry every time I see one. Believe it or not, it’s still upsetting. The death of people. Of anyone. Most people assume that im just use to the fact that I can see ghosts. It still haunts me. I still cry at funerals.
I’ve been having the same dream for months now. But only in pieces every time. Like flash backs. I don’t know. There is one part of my childhood outings that I can’t seem to piece together. The dream is black clouds moving toward me. Im standing in front of the safe house, terrified. The next thing I know, im running. Running as fast as I can. But what am I running from? A scream comes next. Then im awake in cold sweats. Every now and then I get a bit closer to figuring it out then poof. It’s all gone. As if someone’s erasing my memory.
I just want to be free of this stupid gift. Seeing dead people isn’t fun anymore. I didn’t want this. Nobody would.
I sat there thinking about the stupid curse for ages before I realised the time. 10:30 Am. I couldn’t quite pick it. Something is bugging me about the time. I looked through the dates in my phone. Nope, nothing there either.
I got up off my bed and ran down stairs to my dad’s room. “Hey Dad, is there anything we’re supposed to be doing now?” I frowned, confused, as did he. He shook his head and returned to the paperwork he was doing when I entered in a hurry. I shrugged and trudged ever so slowly back up stairs and plonked onto my bed.
There has to be something. Why can’t I remember? Well, as my dad always says, ‘It can’t be that important if you can’t remember’
Then a flash back. A memory. Of me as a little girl in the car with Dad. Telling im to hurry up. Then the Sign ‘Willow Falls Cemetery’. Then it all made sense. But why would that come to me now? Maybe it’s a sign.
I ran down the stairs and past dad’s room. “Sorry Dad gotta go.” Before he had a chance to think about what I just said, I was out the front door, bag on my back, wallet in hand. I ran as fast as I could toward the Cemetery. Why now, why did this all come back now. I looked at the time on my phone. 10:35. God I hope theyre still there. Wait, did I just think that? Well something’s up and I know it. A memory of that day was in those dreams. Maybe they can help me figure out what’s going on with me.
Then, around the corner, the sign ‘Willow Falls Cemetery’ came into view. Thank god. That gave me the edge to run just that little bit faster. I got to the gate and opened it eagerly running toward a familiar headstone. There was a name engraved in it. ‘Charlotte Mckinen’.
Then another flashback. A dark cloud. It appeared to be ghosts. I stood in front of the headstone. Then another image made its way to my head. The dark cloud, it’s moving closer to me. Im standing in front of what looks like a cave made of vines. The safe house. I remember it. We used it to hide from..
A long gasp left my lips then my vision turned hazy then black.
They’re coming for you Abby.
They’re coming and you have to be ready.
YOU ARE READING
Ghosts of A Little Girls Past
FantastiqueI have a gift. A gift that lets me communicate with those who are no longer with us. Ghosts. Little Candice has had this gift since she was born. She first discovered this gidt after driving by the old cemetery in her town. She saw them running arou...