Scenario:I can communicate with the dead
Create my version of this story
I can communicate with the dead
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
I was seven years old the first time I saw a ghost.
So thatâs exactly what we did.
It was in my familyâs living room, and it was of a woman who looked to be in her late sixties or early seventies.
We walked through the house together as quiet as church mice so we wouldnât wake our parents upâand thank goodness we didnât, because they wouldâve been mad if they knew how late we were up because of thisâand then Thomas checked all the windows and doors again for any sign of forced entry just in case while looking around himself to see if she was there anywhere hiding from us.
She had long, gray hair that fell down her back in waves, and she wore a simple white nightgown.
But there was no sign of her anywhere, so Thomas turned his attention back to me and asked me once again if I still thought she was realâeven though Iâd only seen her onceâand why.
She was standing by the fireplace, staring at me with wide eyes.
I remember being scared at first, but then I felt something elseâa deep sadness that seemed to radiate off of her in waves.
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say anything, she vanished into thin air.
I didnât really have an answer for him, though I knew deep down that she was real and that there was something she wanted us to know or do for her; I just couldnât explain how I knew it at the time.
So I told Thomas as much and he nodded without saying anything before suggesting we check the rest of the house just in case she was somewhere else.
He was fourteen at the time and had been in his room working on his computer when I came bursting through the door.
At first, he didnât believe me.
I didnât want to; I was afraid sheâd reappear and try to talk to us againâwhich wouldâve scared meâbut Thomas promised he wouldnât let her hurt us if she did come back and then he took my hand in his and led me through the rest of the house.
He told me it was probably just my imagination or maybe a bad dream brought on by the storm that was raging outside.
But when I refused to drop it, when I continued to beg him to go look with me, he grew concerned for my well-being and decided to come with me.
We even visited our parentsâ room, which was off-limits ever since they died because it hurt too much to go in there and remember how things used to be when they were alive.
The living room was empty when we reached it, of course.
We checked all of the windows and doors to see if there was any sign of forced entry or anything like that, but we didnât find anything.
The house was secure as it always was, so Thomas assured me that it was probably just a dream.
A bad one, maybe, but still just a dream.
He suggested we get some sleep and talk about it in the morning.
It sounded like a good idea at the time, so I agreed and let him tuck me back into bed before he went off to bed himself.
The next day over breakfast, Thomas asked me about what Iâd seen the night beforeâwhether or not I still thought it was real.
I replied that yes, I did believe it had been real because it felt real to me at the time.
Thomas tightened his grip on my hand, edging us closer to the door. âStay behind me,â he whispered. I nodded, too scared to speak.
The shadowy figure stepped forward, emerging into the dim light filtering through the open doors. It was the same womanâgray hair flowing, white nightgown billowing in the wind. Her sorrowful eyes locked onto mine, and I felt an inexplicable pull toward her.
âWho are you?â Thomas demanded, his voice trembling slightly despite his attempt at bravery.
The ghostly woman raised her hand, pointing toward an old chest in the corner of the barn. âHelp me,â she said, her voice a haunting whisper that sent chills down my spine.
Thomas glanced at me before cautiously approaching the chest. He lifted the lid, revealing a collection of old letters and photographs.
âThese must be hers,â he murmured.
I stepped closer, peering over his shoulder. Among the items was a locket containing a picture of our mother as a young girl.
âSheâs family,â I realized aloud.
The ghost nodded slowly, tears streaming down her ethereal face. âFind the truth,â she implored before fading into nothingness.
Thomas and I exchanged bewildered looks. The truth about our family history was hidden in these relics, and it was up to us to uncover it.
I didnât really have an answer for him; though I knew deep down that she was real and wanted us to uncover something important about our family history.
I didnât want to; I was afraid sheâd reappear and try to talk to us againâwhich wouldâve scared meâbut Thomas promised he wouldnât let her hurt us if she did come back. Then he took my hand in his and led me through the rest of the house.We even visited our parentsâ room which was off-limits ever since they died because it hurt too much remembering how things used to be when they were alive.
The ghost nodded slowly, tears streaming down her ethereal face. "Find the truth," she implored before fading into nothingness.
This remote country setting was familiar yet isolated, especially after our parents' deaths leaving seventeen-year-old Emily Carter and her older brother alone in taking care of each other amidst various challenges and responsibilities
But then one fateful day everything changed after seeing a ghostly woman standing in front of them
Who is this mysterious woman?
What does she want from Emily?
Prologue:
"Did you see that?"
I asked my older brother Thomas who looked just as shocked as I felt
He glanced at me briefly then turned back towards where we saw that mysterious figure "Yeah," he replied
"What do you think happened?"
Thomas asked
His dark brows drawn together while his piercing blue eyes darted around like he was looking for any kind of explanation or answer