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MidReal Story
Whispers on Maple Street
Scenario:a family decided to rent a charming yet inexpensive house nestled on Maple Street. Unbeknownst to them, the house had a history—a ghost had been living there for years, invisible to the living.
On their first night, the family settled in, exhausted from the move. The mother tucked the kids into bed, and soon the house fell silent. But in the stillness, young Tommy stirred. He awoke to a curious sensation: someone was tugging at his hair. Confused and frightened, he squinted into the darkness and gasped as he saw a shadowy figure—a black-haired kid, seemingly lost in a dream.
Tommy called out to his dad, who rushed in to calm him down. “It’s just a dream, buddy. Go back to sleep,”
Create my version of this story
Emily Jenkins
older sister of Tommy and daughter of Sarah and John, long curly brown hair, intelligent and cautious
John Jenkins
father of Tommy and Emily, married to Sarah, short black hair, rational and skeptical
Sarah Jenkins
mother of Tommy and Emily, married to John, long blonde hair, nurturing and protective
My name is Tommy Jenkins.
I am ten years old.
And last night I saw a ghost.
This is my story.
Our family moved into a new house on Maple Street.
It's a three bedroom ranch with brown siding and white trim.
It has a big front porch and yard, and it's very cheap.
That's why Mom and Dad liked it.
They said we could put the money we saved toward rent toward furnishing the house, and toward fixing it up.
The house is kind of old, and it needs some work.
But I like it.
I think it's cool the way the sunlight shines through the windows in long slanted rectangles, and how the creaky floorboards sound like an old twig snapping underfoot.
I also like how there are no other kids in the neighborhood, only trees and birds, so it's quiet.
Here is the next part of the story:
The morning sun streamed through the windows as I sat at the breakfast table, my cereal untouched.
I hesitated, watching Mom and Dad sip their coffee, their faces still puffy from sleep.
"I saw a ghost last night," I blurted out, my voice shaking slightly.
Emily paused mid-bite, her eyes widening like two blue saucers.
Dad chuckled, shaking his head, his dark hair mussed from sleep.
"Tommy, it was just a dream," he insisted, his tone gentle but firm.
Mom glanced at me with concern, her brow furrowed, but said nothing.
I described the black-haired kid, the tug on my hair, trying to recall every detail.
Emily leaned closer, intrigued, her blonde pigtails bobbing as she nodded.
Dad remained skeptical, dismissing it as imagination running wild.
Mom suggested we explore the house together later, her eyes sparkling with a hint of curiosity.
I nodded, determined to prove what I saw, my heart racing with excitement.
As we finished breakfast, the silence was broken only by the clinking of dishes and the chirping of birds outside.
I pushed my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor, and stood up.
"I'm going to go get dressed," I said, trying to sound casual.
As I walked out of the kitchen, I caught Emily's gaze following me, her eyes still wide with wonder.
I felt a shiver run down my spine as I headed upstairs, the creaky steps echoing beneath my feet.
Suddenly, I heard a faint whisper in my ear: "You shouldn't have told."
