The Pine Street Ghost

A short story

A short story based on a childhood memory.

The house was haunted. We were convinced. Whenever Ellen and I walked past we could see the silhouettes of a shadow figure standing guard in the upstairs window. Ellen and I looked at each other. By now we could read each others thoughts just by the look on our faces. We knew what the other was thinking, ghosts hand moved into the neighborhood.

Our curiosity trumped our fear and common sense. Our inquisitiveness leaded us to walked by the house on our way to the creek, everyday that summer. However, our excursions soon came to an end.

The warm summer breeze blew through our sleepy town, waking up the peculiar. Ellen and I began our walk to the creek to race milkweed boats. Our adventure wouldn’t be complete without our tradition of walking by the house.

The cracked sidewalk beneath us and the decrepit house looming in front of us. We eyed the house with our normal suspicion.

“Who do you think died in there?” I blurted

“Don’t be so morbid” Ellen snapped

“Well? Someone has to die for a house to be haunted, doesn’t it?”

“I guess” Ellen said turning from the house toward the creek

I slowly turned to follow Ellen when a forlorn and spooky howl cut through the air. Ellen whipped around and was suddenly right next to me, eyes wide, mouth gaping.

“What was that?” Ellen stuttered

“Hell hound” I replied with a smirk

“Where did it come from?” She said.

“I don’t know. The house?” I said with less confidence

We looked around only to see there was not a dog in sight. From the corner of my eye is saw a shadow dart across the window. I flung my head back to stare at the house. The hairs on my arm standing at attention. Ellen must have seen the same thing, because she was already staring at the house, the color drained from her face.

“Why do we do this?” I asked

Ellen was silent. The sight of a fearsome shadow of a dog standing beside the silhouette of a man had stunned her into an unnerving silence. Another howl broke the silence. Before I knew it my legs were running as fast as they could as far from the house as they could. I looked behind to see Ellen trailing behind, not looking back.

We never went back to the house after that. We found a new path to the creek, and never talked about what we saw that day.