Where ghosts linger in the night

 

On a lonely, darkened path, the eerie wind catches the tops of the poplar trees. The full moon is beckoning the wolves, in their distant cries. A patch of vague cloud moves, swiftly, over the moon and then disappears in the darkness.

Gunther and his sister, Allie, move quickly through the narrow, twisted path, on their way home from Marcus' house. It's all but three miles back to their cabin, but tonight seems too spooky to keep a steady pace without trotting and looking over their shoulders, at every crack of a twig or rustle of a branch. Gunther knew tonight would be a difficult time for his family, so his sister had implored him to go get some distance from his parents, who suffered a loss, earlier in the day . Their mother's step-mom passed away, and on Halloween, to boot. Gunther just turned fifteen, and his thirteen year old sister, seemed to be taking the reigns on their decision to 'get away from it all', for a short time. They weren't particularly close to their 'step-grandmother'. It appeared that the old lady had lived a very eccentric lifestyle, with shrines of black cats, black candles and deep, crimson red painted walls throughout her eerie house, that the kids favorably called "Wicked Westwood Mansion". The step-grandmother, Ida Stone, was a widow, for twenty years, and since her husband had passed on, she had become very unstable, according to their mother. It wasn't until they got the news of her death that the family began to mention this old woman's life and her past. 

  "Be home by nine," Gunther and Allie's mother said. The parents were sitting with a few members of the family, in the old cabin they shared, working on the funeral arrangements. Gunther didn't really want to leave the cabin, but Allie was determined to break free from the grief for a short time. 

It was five in the afternoon when they left the cabin to Marcus' house, and it was already dark. The chill in the air had Gunther swaddled in his plaid work jacket his dad gave him. Allie seemed content with her light sweater, and made conversation during their walk, as though nothing was wrong. Gunther had a deep-seeded fear of the dark and it was probably all those horror comics he's been reading.

At around eight-thirty, that night, they headed back to the cabin. It seemed even darker and colder than when they left earlier.  Gunther kept his eyes on his sister, who walked ahead, admiring the swaying silhouettes of the trees, overhead, that were shadowed in the full moon's light. 

  "What do you think Granny's last thoughts were?" Allie asked, innocently. It was something she was good at, considering she was such a curious girl, about many things in life. Gunther raised his eyebrows. He didn't spend much time with his sister, discussing such personal things. He spent most of his time with friends his own age, and just boys. He felt uncomfortable talking to his sister about 'death', only because they were alone, in the dark, somewhere between Marcus' house and their cabin, on some twisted path, lined with bushes, shrubs and dead leaves spread about. 

  "I don't know," Gunther replied, quietly, "hard to say. Maybe she was thinking about mom and dad, and us?" He knew that was probably something that was safe to say, but he could see Allie's expression wasn't buying it.

  "Do you think she was in pain? Do you think she was crying and stuff?" Allie asked, prying for more  gory details, no doubt. Gunther shrugged and cleared his throat, something he did to get away from talking anymore. 

  "Do you think Granny did like, 'witchcraft', and will come back to haunt us?" Allie asked. She stopped in her tracks and looked back at Gunther, who stopped, too. 

  "I don't know, Allie. Just keep walking . I don't want to talk about this until we're back at the cabin! Just ask Mom what she thinks. I didn't even know Ida. Neither of us did. So, who cares? She's dead.!" Gunther firmed his tone to silence his sister's questions but that seemed to have perked up her curiosity.