There’s Something Sinister In My Grandma’s Old House And Nobody Knows About It But Me

I stayed up at the top of the bed, tucked up and frightened for hours until I felt the weight of the woman get up off of the bed and leave the room. Injected with a faint amount of relief, I uncoiled my body and relaxed, lying naked on the bed, wide awake until the morning came.


It’s funny how the shining warmth and light of a burning ball of gas millions of miles away can provide so much comfort to your fears. The glow of the sunny day which greeted me when I walked outside to go to class soothed the troubles of the crazy night before.

My classes and lunch went by in the same quiet, dull, depressing way they usually did, but instead of rushing back to my grandma’s house to drift away the night in seclusion, I was reluctant to go back. I hung around campus after my last class not knowing what to do. I considered calling my parents. But what was I going to say.

Hey mom and dad. I have to come home because grandma’s house is haunted by the ghost of a hot young woman?

There was no way I could do that. Unfortunately by the time I decided on this, the Fall sun had set on the Pacific and the only place I had to go was back to the house where the aforementioned sexy ghost was.

I at least had a juvenile strategy. I heard about a mini-mart just off of campus known for selling beer to underage students and figured I could make a stop there to see if I could buy some of the world’s oldest cure for fear and anxiety.

The rumors were true, but I made the grave mistake of purchasing two forties of Steel Reserve. I figured I should skip the usual Bud or Coors Light I would get and buy something I assume a person of age would buy with the four dollars and change I had in my wallet as not to draw suspicion. I sat in the backyard of my house forcing down the malt liquor and wincing in disgust.

The alcohol started to kick in about halfway through the second 40. The tension and fatigue from not sleeping last night smoothly started to melt away and the booze pumping through my veins made me a little bit bolder. Was I seriously scared of a female ghost? I could tell I was sufficiently drunk when I started to think to myself the ghost was really attractive and I almost hoped she would come back again.

I poured out the rest of the second 40 onto the grass and headed inside.



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