There’s Something Sinister In My Grandma’s Old House And Nobody Knows About It But Me
I felt the presence of a new weight introduce itself to the foot of the bed. The dark and the adrenaline of shock and blush clouded my vision, but I could see a presence approach me from the foot of the bed.
By 
Jack Follman
I saw my ghost in as good of a focus as ever in the light the rising fire of the quilt provided. Her dark eyes glared at me from across the couch before she turned her attention back to Loralei.
The ghost chased Loralei to the front door. As soon as she left a gap between her and the hallway, I bolted and scrambled into the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen, I took a turn for the bedroom. There was a lock on the door. There was a lock on the door. I kept repeating to myself.
I burst into the bedroom, locked the door and ran into a big closet in the corner. There’s another lock on the closet.
I slapped in the lock in the closet, tucked myself behind a collection of hanging heavy coats which still smelled like my grandma’s stinky perfume and held my breath, waiting for the sounds of footsteps to approach the door.
But they didn’t.
I stayed quarantined in the closet for what must have been hours. I wondered if I would see daylight when I finally took a deep breath, unlocked the latch and headed back out into the master bedroom.
It wasn’t quite light in the room yet, but the blue aura coming from the bedroom window meant dawn was just greeting the world. I tiptoed in the shallow light over to my bed where I hoped to grab a couple of hours before the full stroke of morning but was greeted by a hand-written note placed upon my pillow.
Written in blank ink cursive, I felt just a touch of moisture upon the paper when I picked it up and read it.
It’s okay if you don’t want to be with me.
Weeks went by without another appearance from my ghost. The only thing left of her were the burns on my grandma’s old quilt in the living room.
I myself actually slipped into becoming more and more of a ghost. I never went to campus. Was failing all of my classes. The only time I left the house consistently was to go to my therapist so she wouldn’t tip off my parents about my falling apart and when I did, I played the part of the sane guy who was putting it back together. Never brought up any ghosts with beautiful faces.
I couldn’t even really talk about my ghost anyway. She left me. I passed the days alone in my dark grandma house strangely missing my supernatural partner. Would she ever come back?
