The Lake House

Happy Holloween! Here is a short horror story I hope you will enjoy.

The lake house stood behind a stone wall cloaked in jasmine, its iron gate guarding secrets from the road beyond.

From the back seat of the rented SUV, Ellie watched her father tap a code on the key pad, prompting the gate to swing open. The long driveway cut through a large manicured lawn shaded under massive oak and magnolia trees. He parked under the covered entry to the two story bungalow.

“Let’s check out the house before we unpack,” her mom said.

Ellie jumped out and stretched, inhaling the sweet scented air. Mr Bauer tapped another code on the electronic front door lock. She followed her parents into the foyer that opened to a kitchen on the right, and a living room on the left.

As her parents disappeared through the kitchen to their bedroom, Ellie checked out the rest of the house before heading upstairs to hers. The living room’s decor had a bright, airy theme, with a light wood floor and a ceiling vaulted above the second floor. Sunlight filtered through the bay window of the left wall. A couch and loveseat were arranged around a glass coffee table faced a stone fireplace. A glass lamp filled with sea shells, a model boat, and books were arranged neatly on the bookcases flanking the fireplace.

Mounted above the fireplace hung a TV with “Welcome To Our Lake House, Bauer family” on the screen. Below the banner was the current date, time, and weather. The forecast for the rest of the week predicted sunny days with light cloud cover and no rain, perfect for her spring break vacation. The background was a looped animation of boats floating on a lake with clouds and birds moving across a blue sky.

A staircase on her right split the living and dining rooms. Around a corner at the base of the staircase was the dining room with large windows that overlooked the pool, back yard, and a boat dock on the canal. On the ride from the airport, dad told her that the canal led to the Harris Chain of Lakes. One of the reasons they rented the home was the option to use the fishing boat at any time.

Mother’s voice broke the silence. “El, we’re getting our suitcases.”

“Okay. I’m going to check out upstairs first.”

Ascending the carpeted stairs, she paused at the top to admire a wall mural painted in bright, bold colors. In a whimsical fantasy setting, a long table was set with tea and cake, surrounded by elegantly dressed animals. At the head of the table sat a crowned lioness. Beside her sat a dodo in a suit and top hat, and across from them, a fox in a purple suit lounged with his feet on the table. At the far end, a suited rabbit offered a bouquet to a mouse wearing a crown and a pink dress. Nearby stood a buck in a tuxedo beside a doe in a flowing purple dress. A rainbow arch of flowers spanned above them, with more blossoms spilling across the bathroom threshold and behind the bunk beds. A vanity mirror hung on the wall beside the bathroom door, strangely out of place in the magical scene, or perhaps meant for someone to admire themselves within the mural.

To the left of the landing was a sitting room with a view of the pool, back yard, and the canal. Two wingback chairs flanked a round table, and a bookcase along the right wall stocked full of books Ellie planned to peruse later.

She turned to the bedroom, passed the bunk beds and a queen, and stood at the balcony railing. Cool. She could watch the living room TV from here, either from a nearby chair or lying on the thick wool rug. A door on either side the landing could be slid shut to offer privacy.

Above the TV, at eye level, hung an oil painting Ellie hadn’t noticed until now. A man and woman stood outside in front of the lake house she assumed the couple were the homeowners. The woman stood on the left, laughing at her husband, whose eyes were crossed and tongue sticking out of his mouth. She wore a sundress with yellow daisies on a blue background, and he wore a pair of overalls and a pitchfork in his right hand.

Such a weird place to hang the painting, she thought.

Turning around, she spotted her reflection in the mirror, the TV and painting behind her. She didn’t like that. Damn. Now every time she walked by the mirror she would be seeing that painting. She didn’t know why it disturbed her. Perhaps it was the way the couple were trying to hard to be funny. The mirror was mounted flat against the wall so she couldn’t move it or hang a towel over it. But not all was lost. Sliding the balcony doors closed blocked their reflection.

She helped her parents unload the SUV before they convened in the living room. The TV still displayed the welcome banner, the time and weather, and a screenshot of a video. With the remote in hand, Ellie clicked on the Play Me button.

The screen faded to the couple, dressed in the same clothes as in the painting, and feigning smiles.

“Welcome to our Lake House,” the woman said.

They introduced themselves as Lindsey and Alan Sharpe, then took turns explaining amenities of the home, where to find the stash of bug spray and sunscreen, and a warning to stay away from the dock because of the alligator.

Mrs. Sharpe said, “Yes, there really is an alligator, but it is small, currently about six feet long. Still, you don’t want to go near it, and avoid walking your dogs near the shoreline.”

Mr. Sharped chimed in with that fake, pearly white smile. “Remember, if the gator approaches you, run away in a zig-zag pattern. That will confuse him and he won’t be able to chase you.”

“And don’t go riding them like this little boy. He’s a pro.” The scene faded to a cartoon image of a boy riding on the back of an alligator. The couple’s laugh felt forced. They said their farewells and hoped the Bauer’s enjoyed the stay.

Ellie said when the video ended, “Wow, that wasn’t cringey at all.”

Mrs. Bauer piped up. “I’m going to the pool. Who wants to join me?”

Ellie and her dad said together, “I do.”

They spent the afternoon swimming in the pool, a luxury they didn’t have at their Chicago home. When the sun started to sink in the sky, they got out and cleaned up for dinner.

Ellie’s father grilled steaks they had purchased on the way to the rental while her mother chopped vegetables and potatoes in the kitchen. Ellie ventured down to the canal in hopes to find the alligator.

The stone wall around the property ended about twenty feet from the shore, opening the view to the long sweep of the canal and the houses beyond. A few canoes and kayaks drifted lazily beside a fishing boat at the neighbor’s dock. The canal stretched into the distance on both sides, disappearing into a haze where she couldn’t tell where it met the lake. On the far bank, tall grass swayed against a dark line of trees that seemed to guard the water. Only the Sharpe’s house was walled in stone as if they had something to hide.

She sat in one of the Adirondack chairs, sipping her soda, the camera app on her phone open, ready to snap a photo of the alligator. Nature’s subtle symphony started up. Crickets chirped along with the droning of the cicadas, and every so often a bullfrog croaked. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her shirt stuck to her skin, her body unaccustomed to the thick humidity. They left their hometown wearing layered clothing and had to buy suitable clothes at the mall for the Orlando weather.

A mosquito buzzed near her ear, searching for a piece of skin where she might have missed with the bug spray. She felt a pinch behind her ear and she slapped it. “Gotcha, little shit.” She relished the kill evidenced on her fingers, then wiped the bloody bug guts on her shorts.

The sky deepened to black as stars slipped between drifting clouds. A low, guttural growl cut through the dissonance, silencing the wildlife.

Something massive thrashed in the tall grass across the canal, then splashed in the water.

Only one creature could make noise like that. The alligator.

She slowly got up, raised her phone to start recording video.

“Ellie!”

She cried out and dropped her phone. It bounced and tumbled twice on the dock before landing face-up and a foot from falling off the edge. Her mom ran toward her, about twenty feet from the dock. “Mom, what the hell? You scared me.”

“Sorry. Your phone okay?”

Ellie picked it up. The case protected the screen from shattering. “It’s good. I almost had the alligator,” she whined.

“Where is it?”

“Somewhere out there, I think.”

The mother and daughter turned on their phone flashlights and swept it across the water.

Ellie gasped and whispered. “There it is.” Her light stopped on the top of the alligator’s head and backside as it slowly stalked them, peeking just above the water line. The couple in the welcome video earlier had mentioned that the gator was ten feet long, but she couldn’t tell if that was true right now as most of its body was under water.

Mother whispered, “That is so creepy.”

Ellie switched on the camera and began filming, mother’s light still on the creature. “Do you think it could kill us?”

“Probably.”

The gator slithered in front of their dock, its one eye glowing a murky green in the light. Ellie’s heart hammered quickly. The grass on either side of the dock sloped into the water, giving the gator easy access to come ashore. Could she outrun it?

“Remember to run zig-zag if it gets on land,” she reminded her mom.

A loud splash came from down the canal to her left. Startled, Ellie almost dropped her phone again. The alligator gave chase toward the splash and disappeared into the darkness.

“You ladies okay?”

Ellie turned to her dad. “Yeah, we’re good, dad. I gotta a cool video of it.” She started to review the video.

Mom chimed in. “You missed it, Terrance. It was really creepy.”

He grinned. “Oh I saw it alright. That was me who threw the rock. That thing was getting too close for comfort.”

“Aw, man, I didn’t get all of it. Thanks, dad,” Ellie said, disappointed, and began walking back to the patio.

“What? I saved your lives. Don’t I at least get a ‘thank you’ for that?”

Mom said, “We didn’t feel threatened, but thank you anyways, dear.” She placed a hand on his shoulder.

Ellie rolled here eyes and followed her parents back into the house where they discussed tomorrow’s trip to Disney World.

After dinner, Ellie switched out her contact lenses for glasses then joined her parents in the living room to watch Netflix. She couldn’t focus on the rom-com as her eyes kept looking up at the stupid painting. At one point the woman’s eyes shifted towards Ellie and held her gaze for several seconds before looking back at her goofy husband. Ellie flinched.

Her mom chuckled. “This movie isn’t that great, hon, but it’s not scary.”

“Thought I saw a spider on that painting.”

Father said, “There better not be. The owners assured me the place is sprayed for bugs.”

“I don’t see it now, so it must have been a reflection of the TV.”

Besides a few awkward chuckles, no one made a sound during the rest of the movie and the woman’s eyes in the painting never moved again. Ellie dismissed it as her wild imagination playing tricks on her.

As the credits rolled up the TV, Ellie pointed to the painting. “What’s up with that weird painting?”

Her mother said, “They’re poking fun of the famous American Gothic painting. You should look it up. It has an interesting story behind it.”

“It doesn’t look funny to me. I just don’t understand why it has to be hanging right there.”

“Why does it bother you?”

Ellie was too afraid to tell them about the reflection in the mirror. What would her parents think if she told them the woman’s eyes moved during the movie? They would think she wanted to go home early and she didn’t wanting to ruin the vacation. So she just said, “It doesn’t bother me. I just think it’s weird that it’s hanging there.”

Dad agreed. “I agree it is a weird spot for it, but I’m not going to move their stuff.”

“I wouldn’t want you too either.” Besides, she could simply close the loft doors, cutting off its reflection in the mirror.

She went upstairs to get ready for bed, dressing in a nightgown with the words, “I’m Otterly Tired” above a sleeping otter. It was one of her recent gifts for her twelfth birthday. Sitting on the queen bed, Ellie searched online for the story behind the American Gothic painting and found nothing interesting about it. There were obvious differences, such as their clothing and the house style, but in the original, the couple had serious facial expressions.

Her phone buzzed with a FaceTime call from her best friend, Olivia. “How is the place?”

“Nice, but there’s a creepy painting that’s probably going to give me nightmares.”

“Ooh, I like creepy. Tell me about it.”

Ellie explained the painting and the back story of the original American Gothic. She took a picture of it and sent it to the friend.

“Oh, that is weird. I can see why you don’t like it. I don’t like it either. What if the couple step out of the painting and watched you sleep?”

“Don’t put that in my head. Stop it. I’m going to have nightmares.” She lowered her voice so her parents couldn’t hear her tell Olivia about the woman’s eyes moving during the movie.

“I bet that house is haunted. Someone died in there, I just know it. Did you research the history of the house?”

“Hell no. I’m too scared. You think every house is haunted.”

“Think about it. As old as Earth is and the number of people who have lived here, someone has died in just about every part of it.”

“Calm down and let me look this up real quick.” Ellie asked ChatGPT about the history of the house, but found no evidence of it being haunted. Although a previous owner had died in 1982, no one actually died inside the house. He had died from a heart attack at his office. The house sat on the market for over a year before the Maloney’s purchased it to refurbish and flipped it to the current owners, who bought it two years ago.

Olivia said, “That doesn’t mean it’s not haunted. I bet that gator has eaten people.”

“Stop! You’re scaring me.” She was joking and they shared a laugh. But deep down Ellie didn’t feel like laughing. There was something hidden in this house. A secret murder perhaps?

She steered the conversation to the mural and shared a photo of it. Olivia noted that the location of the mirror was set up to be like a portal into the mural. Ellie wished the painting didn’t bother her as it distracted her from enjoying the beautiful mural. Soon their conversation switched to the friend having a crush on the boy in their class, effectively distracting Ellie from worrying about the painting.

In the middle of the night she got up to use the restroom. She put on her glasses and saw the painting in the mirror, not in the distance hanging above the TV as usual, but covering it entirety, as if the couple had been painted directly on it. From this angle, they appeared lifesize as if they could step out of it. How was that possible? She did close the balcony doors, right? She turned to confirm the doors were still closed.

No, no, no, no, no. Please don’t be there when I turn back around.

She turned slowly back toward the mirror. The couple and house were gone and in its place was the balcony doors just how it was supposed to be. She sighed with relief and quickly used the restroom. Sleep didn’t return to Ellie for the rest of the night and neither did the couple’s reflection.

Though she had lost a few hours of sleep, she had enough energy to enjoy their day at Disney World. They planned their trip to enjoy Florida as much as possible in a week. Tomorrow they would go to Universal Studios, Bush Gardens the following day, then to the beach. Ellie and her father were roller coaster junkies, knowing the coasters in Florida were not as good as Cedar Point, but they still could enjoy them. Her mother was content to wait for them at the exits. She used to ride the coasters with him, but that stopped shortly after giving birth to Ellie because her stomach became more sensitive to the drops. Ellie chose to forgo having children, which made her mother laugh. “You’re still too young to worry about that. Just enjoy the rides as much as you can now.”

At least Disney had plenty of non coaster rides for her mother to still have a good time, but she didn’t care for the drop in Pirates of the Caribbean.

Ellie said, “Mom, that drop is like five feet high.”

“No, it’s more like fifty. That’s five stories, straight drop down.”

“Hardly a straight down drop, more like a gentle slope, right dad?”

Dad said, “I have to agree with Ellie on this one, Mona. I didn’t feel a thing.”

“You guys are ridiculous,” she said with a smile.

Ellie chimed in. “Now that you’ve done Pirates you can ride Gringott’s Bank with us tomorrow. I read the drop is like Pirates.”

“That’s sweet, but I’ve had enough excitement for the rest of the week. And I’m content with watching you guys and you telling me about the rides.”

After dinner that night, Ellie couldn’t help glancing up at the painting as she walked to the staircase. She sneered at it.

The woman in the painting sneered back.

Ellie gasped and stopped. Blinked twice.

The couple had returned to their original, goofy stance.

Ellie looked over her shoulder, wondering if her parents saw the same thing, but they had gone to bed. Maybe it was time to change her contact lenses.

After using the restroom, she went back to bed, but unable to sleep. She tried to meditate, think of the cute boy in her class, the day at Disney, anything, but she could fall back asleep. She drifted in and out of consciousness.

As she was starting to drift into the darkness of sleep, a squeaking woke her up. She opened her eyes and saw the barn doors sliding open by themselves.

Ellie lay frozen. Without her contacts, she couldn’t see details, but she would notice if a person was standing in her room.

The doors stopped on the track, revealing the railing and the open space of the living room.

Ellie looked over at the mirror. From this angle and in the gloom, she couldn’t make out anything in the mirror, only gray smudges. She reached over and grabbed her glasses from the nightstand. Now she saw the details of the Sharpe couple, still with their shit eating grins.

She took a minute to gain the courage to get out of bed and close the doors. Above the TV where the painting should have been hanging was an image of her standing at the railing with arms wide, a hand on each door handle. It took a moment to realize it was not a painting, but a mirror image of her. She moved her right hand and the Ellie in the painting moved her right hand. Somehow the painting had become a mirror.

Her hear beat rapidly and a tingling ran up her back, prickling the back of her neck. A feeling that this wasn’t going to end well.

If the painting above the TV became a mirror, then where did the couple go? She couldn’t see anything reflected behind her.

She slowly turned, not wanting to see what she knew would be there in the vanity mirror beside the bathroom door, hoping, praying that the couple were not behind her and that this was all just a bad dream.

But it wasn’t a bad dream.

In the vanity mirror stood the man and woman as Ellie had expected. How could she see them with such great detail in the gloom? They were glowing, like angels she recalled from a fairy tale read to her as a child. Only they didn’t look like angels, but of a malevolent nature with a burning anger on their faces. Anger directed at her.

An invisible force held Ellie still, her feet weighted to the floor.

The man and woman leaped out of the mirror, Mr. Sharpe brandishing the pitchfork with both hands. He was going to kill her.

Ellie finally broke free of the weighted force backed up, stumbled, felt the horizontal wood bar of the top of the railing on her lower back. She tried to regain her composure, but Mr. Sharpe pushed her back with the pitchfork.

She tumbled backward over the railing, her body flipped falling, arms flailing to find something to hold onto, but only grasping air.

Her eyes locked onto the couple’s glaring at her from the balcony.

Her backside slammed into the glass coffee table, shattering the glass into a million deadly shards. Her body lay at a weird angle, not entirely flat on the floor, but hanging off the metal table frame.

She felt the urge to swallow, but a sharp pain stabbed her neck. Warmth spread across her skin, and she realized a shard of glass was lodged there.

Mr. and Mrs. Sharpe were still staring down at her, their sneers turned to smiles.

The edge of her world started to fade then brightened when the living room light popped on. She heard the screams of her mother, the cries of disbelief from her father.

Ellie was floating away now, looking down on her mother holding Ellie’s bloody body, rocking it back and forth like a baby in her frail arms, tears streaming down her face, yelling, Ellie, Ellie, come back to me.

Father paced the living room floor, running a hand through his disheveled hair while trying to explain the accident to the operator on the phone.

Soon the paramedics arrived and declared her body dead, and not long after that the coroner zipped it in a black bag to wheel it away.

From the dining room, an unfamiliar voice called her name. A man’s voice, that wasn’t her father’s.

Lindsey Sharpe sat on a park bench, admiring the beautiful yellow daisies that spotted the grass. Lost in her thoughts, lately they seemed to be fewer, but she was still happy. Happiness was all that mattered in life, right? Still, a longing stirred deep in her soul.

Beyond the patch of flowers, about twenty yards away, children played on the monkey bars and swingset, screaming in glee. Their parents watched from similar benches, some faces expressed tiredness, others smiling. She was angry to see one father staring at his phone, oblivious to the fact that someone could snatch his child without him knowing. She huffed. If she was closer, she would give him a piece of her mind. Told him to pay attention, that she would never be distracted if that was her child.

The wind kicked up, blowing leaves across the playground as storm clouds rolled across the sky. The parents gathered the children from the playground to the safety of their vehicles. Even the inattentive father took a break from his phone to call over his daughter.

Alan appeared in her periphery and joined her on the bench. “That was officer Simms on the phone. There’s been a terrible accident at the rental.”

“Oh no. What happened?”

“The daughter fell off the loft railing and onto the glass coffee table.”

“That’s so awful. Is she okay?’

“Unfortunately she’s dead.”

She sat in silence for a moment, processing his words. In her mind she saw the teenager tumble backward over the balcony railing and crashing into the glass table. “Alan, was she wearing a nightgown with the words ‘I’m Otterly Exhausted’?”

“I-I don’t know. That’s an odd question to ask.”

She remembered. “Did we…?”

“What?”

“Push her off the railing? Did we kill her?”

“Of course not. Where did you get that crazy idea?”

“I had a dream that we did just that.”

“That’s impossible.” He looked at her with suspicion. “We couldn’t…we’re not there. Did you take your medicine?”

“Yes…I think so. Lately it’s been so hard to remember. My mind isn’t what it used to be.”

“You should get more rest. Dr. Gonzalez said fatigue is one of the side effects of the radiation treatment.”

Her eyes felt heavy as she gazed across the field of yellow flowers, the children and playground long gone. “You’re right, I need to sleep more. It’s just hard to relax.”

“I need to meet with officer Simms. Will you be okay here?”

“Yes. Will you tell me what he says?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Even if I forget later?”

“You won’t forget. I’ll make sure of it.” He kissed her cheek and left.

The sky darkened even more until she couldn’t see anymore. Her eyelids slowly closed as she welcomed the deserved sleep.

She awoke sitting at the dining room table of the rental. She blinked several times and looked around the room as if it was her first time here. Alan sat beside her at the head of the table, running a finger back and forth over a crease in the marred wood. Across from her was the wall dividing the dining and living room. The house was now quiet, the crime scene processed and cleaned up.

“How long have we been here? I seem to have these weird dreams that I can’t fully remember all the details.”

Alan looked up at her with tired eyes. “They’re just dreams, my love. They mean nothing at all.”

“I had one before the girl died. You were with me. We were in that old truck you used to drive all the time.”

“The truck that we still own, yes dear. It’s in the shop getting the transmission worked on.”

“But in this dream you’re driving me through a field of yellow flowers. Daisies.” She closed her eyes and conjured the dream in her mind. She wished she could sleep forever. “It’s all so beautiful, Alan. The sun is so bright. I roll down the window and inhale the sweet, fresh air. I can still smell that sweetness sometimes. I laugh and close my eyes-”

“There’s no need to explain a useless dream.”

“You kiss me on the lips. I open my eyes-”

“Honey, don’t get yourself worked up.”

“And now we’re walking in the field of those yellow flowers. How strange that you’re following me instead of walking beside me. You wrap your arms around me, tell me over and over that you love me. I feel the cold steel on the back of my head, you say, ‘I love you’ one last time, then…it’s all black.” She opened her eyes and met his. “Isn’t that a strange dream?”

“Told you, honey, dreams mean nothing.” He broke his gaze and went back to run his thumbnail in the crease in the table.

“But dreams are recollections of the past.”

“Not always.”

“You killed me. We’re dead, aren’t we?”

“Dead? Of course not. I would never-”

“Alan Sharpe! Look me in the eye and tell me that we are still alive, that my dream is nothing more than a stupid nightmare. Tell me.”

He refused to look up, tears pooling in his eyes.

“Tell me, Alan. Just tell me the truth and I won’t be mad.”

He wiped his eyes and broke down, his chest heaving between sobs. “I-I’m so sorry, baby. I got tired of seeing you suffer. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer in pain anymore.”

“What pain? Tell me. I can’t seem to remember.”

“You always wanted to have children, but the ovarian cancer made you barren. You were in remission for a while, seemed to get better, then it came back and metastasized. It spread to your brain, and I knew you didn’t have much time. You were in so much pain. I…I drove you out to the field where we had our first kiss so many years ago.”

The field behind the city park where she loved to pick the yellow daisies and dried them to archive them in her scrapbooks. He had driven her there after the high school football game and parked his truck before the field, the headlights illuminating the beautiful flowers. She recalled the woody smell of his cologne as she leaned closer and grabbed his sweaty hand. He fumbled his words as they rushed out of his mouth, staring out of the windshield, as if meeting her eyes would cause his body to shatter like glass. Something about wanting to go steady as boyfriend and girlfriend. Her heart flipped as she kissed his stubbled cheek. His breath stuttered. He turned, his lips meeting hers for their first kiss.

His sobs interrupted the daydream. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I had to put you out of your misery, Lindsey, but I also couldn’t bear to keep going with you gone.”

“So you killed yourself too?”

He nodded, head hanging in shame.

“So where…? Oh God, I can’t believe this is happening, this is…unbelievable.” She let out a stuttered sigh, and said in a low voice, “Where are our bodies?”

“About a week before…it happened, the girl’s death, I had dug a hole in the forest next to the field. Big enough for us to sit beside each other. I wanted no one to find us, so I also built a cover with branches as camouflage.” He reached out and held her hand, finally looked into her eyes. “Lindsey, forgive me. I just couldn’t bear to see you suffer anymore.”

She was at a loss for words, her emotions a rollercoaster of sadness and anger. For a few moments she held his gaze, which expressed a deep sorrow, tears now dried on his face. “So this is our life now. Since I have been robbed of my past life, I need to make the best of this one.”

“Please understand, Lindsey, that I did this out of love. And this is the only way I can give you what you’ve wanted during our time together. A child.”

“A child?”

“Ellie?”

Ellie Bauer materialized next to Lindsey. The teen was dressed in the same nightgown as on her fateful day, but without any evidence of the murder on her. As if she had died of natural causes instead.

Ellie rested her head on Lindsey’s shoulder. “Mom.”

Lindsey put an arm around the young shade. “Oh, child, welcome to our family.” She looked over at Alan and smiled. “Thank you.”

His mouth widened in the biggest grin. “Only the best for my love.”

He answered more of her questions about how they could still interact with the mortal world. Even though they were invisible to mortals, they could still communicate through projecting their voices in the mortal’s mind, making them believe they were talking to the dead.

Four beeps came from the front door followed by gears sliding open the door lock. The door opened and a man’s voice said, “Go inside while we unpack the car.”

The excited wails of children echoed in the living room. Lindsey, Alan, and Ellie went to investigate. A boy and girl about six years old ran excitedly around the living room, unaware of the ghosts watching.

Lindsey’s eyes lit up. “Two for one.”

Ellie added, “Get the pitchfork ready.”

THE END

A shout out to my niece, Audrey Maloney, whose wall mural inspired the one in the story.

And thank you to Michelle Cairns for helping with the facts in how a body is handled upon death.