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Setting: A 'haunted' school building, where a group of friends have gathered to tell ghost stories.
“So, what’s the story?” Amara asked, her hazel eyes lighting up.
“Well,” Hazel said, “It all happened right here.”
“Yeah, like all those other stories you’ve told us,” interrupted Alicia, rolling her eyes.
"Shut up, I want to hear,” Monica muttered in annoyance.
Hazel sighed, and continued the story, “In this very building, a girl, just a little bit older than us, came in on a dare from the guy she liked. He promised that he would go on a date, but only if she stayed in here for an hour. Well, she agreed, and came in.
“Everything was pitch black, and the desks they left in here after the earthquake looked like ghosts in the dark.
“All of a sudden, she felt a hand on her neck; it was ice cold!” All of the girls gasped accordingly.
“But that’s not the most horrible part. The hand pulled her close and a voice whispered in her ear, ‘Come with us, Catie (‘cause that was her name), come and play with us.’ She was terrified, and tried to get away, but the more she fought, the faster she got pulled toward the doors, closer to the blackest room she had ever seen. Too scared to scream, or even cry, she stopped fighting as more hands joined the first.
“When the police came, they didn’t find any sign that she had ever been there. Ever since, the building has been off-limits. Even the workers here wouldn’t even get close enough to board up the windows. But anyone who comes in and tells her story gets a visit from Catie. If everybody counts up from one, the extra number is Catie. If you’re lucky, she lets you live to tell the story to others. Anyone who doesn’t count, or who doesn’t respect her, she drags them off to join her and the other ghosts. I’ll start… One…”
“Two,” Amara added, her voice shaking.
“Three,” Monica said hesitantly.
Silence. All three looked to Alicia, who groaned. “Fine. Four.”
“Five.” The thin, ragged whisper came from the center of the circle of girls.
The girls stared at one another. “Did you…?” “No…” “Wasn’t me…” Alicia, ever the skeptic, stood and laughed mockingly. “You guys are ridiculous. I’m leaving.”
She hadn’t gotten but three steps away when the door slammed open, and she was yanked, screaming, through it.
The police never found her.
The other girls never spoke about it, and they never told another ghost story ever again.
 Star of Winter · Wed Apr 01, 2009 @ 03:35am · 0 Comments |
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