THAT'S CREEPY!

Junior

Scratch! Scratch!

My eyes shot open. This is the fifth night I’ve heard that scratching sound. It’s been happening since our family dog, Junior, died. He used to scratch the door like that when he wanted to be let into the bedroom. But now, after he's gone, it's much more unsettling to hear. Moreover, I could hear a faint bark at midnight. And when the morning came, I found one or two broken plates on the kitchen floor.

We all loved Junior, especially my daughter. But this has to stop. I figured he might be concerned about my daughter that’s why he can't move on. He was her best friend. So that night, I lit three candles in the living room. I asked my daughter to sit on my side, and together we called him.

"Junior! Let's play!"

After a while, in a ghostly form, he peeked from around the wall. My heart broke.

"Junior! Don't worry about me." My daughter's voice was trembling.

He stepped closer.

"We'll be fine. I'll be fine." She was in tears. "You can move on."

He tilted his head a little, something he did a lot when he was alive. And then he ran toward her. She greeted him with open arms, and he disappeared like a gentle wind as he reached her. She cried. "I will miss you, Junior."

Suddenly a gust of wind blew out all the candles. The sound of plates being thrown to the ground like madness could be heard from the kitchen. In the darkness, I could hear a low twisted voice.

"Now that that accursed dog is finally gone, who wants to play?"