The Haunted Doll's House

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Jane's sudden death was a shock to everyone. One minute she was up on the roof garden, watering her forty second white lily, and the next she was dead. She had fallen off the roof, and died. Had she been alive she would've said it was a shame, but she wasn't. Her heart was no longer beating, and her lungs would never again hold air.

Jane wasn't clumsy. She was up on that roof for the majority of her life, and never before had she fallen over a plant pot. That was why it was so strange for her to die under those circumstances. Her family did ponder over this, only to come back to the conclusion that it was 'just an accident'. Well, all but one family member.

"Ghosts Amy, really? I'm quite tired of this childish behaviour! " Amy's father, John,  bellowed.

" The girl's mother dies, and she just talks about ghosts! She's crazy that one is." her grandmother mumbled.

"I'm not crazy! You can hear them too, I know you do. They are whispering right now! So why is it so hard to believe? Do you really think mum 'just fell'? Just like that?! " Amy screamed.

" THAT'S ENOUGH! DON' T YOU DARE RAISE YOUR VOICE WHILE SPEAKING TO ME! " John snapped," Look baby, I understand--"

"No you don't that's the point!" Amy interrupted, before getting a deadly glare from her father, and a judging one from her grandmother.

"As I was saying, I understand the pain you are in. Jane wasn't just your mother, Amy; she was my wife as well. We all loved her and it hurts to let her go. However, you turning this into another one of your ghost stories won't bring her back, will it? Please Amy, just this once, leave your ghosts out of this! "

Amy knew she should've just stayed silent. She should've apologised, and quietly turned around and walked upstairs, into her bedroom. She should've, except, there are certain times in life where something needs to be said. It is as though your tongue takes control and speaks before your mind can process what just happened.

" You don't have to pretend to love her anymore!" she blurted out.

Amy probably wouldve said more as well, but her father's hands are as fast as lightening, if you give them a reason to be.

On top of that, Amy's physiatrist was called. Doctor Sun thought she helped, she didn't. She thought she could 'fix' Amy.

Amy didn't need fixing though; at least her mother didn't think so. Jane was the only person who never told Amy she was crazy, or hit her. Instead, she used to tell her stories to make her feel better, unlike people like Grandmother Ellis, who just shuffled around the house murmuring. It was her who had lost her marbles.

Amy sat on the edge of the roof garden, reminiscing over the stories Jane had once told her. Fairy tales about giants and magical beings. Amy's favourite myth was the one about the day. Her mother would tell her about how when people walked outside, there would be this big, hot thing in the sky, which would light up the whole place. However, one day, a bad man turned the thing off, and now we only have nights, and no more days.

The story was silly, and didn't even make sense, or have a happy ending like the other stories. But Amy didn't care. She would try and imagine the light, and all the fun people had as they basked in it.

Jane had told Amy many secrets. Jane said that the ghosts were real. That their old house had always been haunted, and that everyone could hear them. Only some people pretended not to hear them, like John, because they weren't clever enough to realise that the ghosts could tell you secrets. Secrets that no one else knew.