tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603374637711904147.post1738600029380497753..comments2024-03-28T11:13:36.211+01:00Comments on We Do Write: Read 'Em & Reap Blog Hop! Tons of Grim Prizes!Dorothy Dreyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07359417869474783409noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603374637711904147.post-15859258037054763782014-10-31T07:59:36.019+01:002014-10-31T07:59:36.019+01:00Forgot to put my email!
love2read739@gmail.comForgot to put my email! <br />love2read739@gmail.comAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603374637711904147.post-8954488255521664222014-10-31T07:36:42.062+01:002014-10-31T07:36:42.062+01:00"Go to the Wyckham house, they said. Stay unt..."Go to the Wyckham house, they said. Stay until midnight. Its just for laughs. Why did I agree to this?"<br />It's great fun to see who will walk up to the town's haunted house in the middle of the day. Even to sneak in and look around. But to stay there alone, after dark, on Halloween? Not fun. Not at all. There's no electricity, no heat, and no company. And the sneaking suspicion that someone's watching me out of the corner of my eye. Eerie. No other word for it. Shivering, I huddle in my hoodie and check the time on my phone. Ten minutes past eleven.<br />A light touch feathers over my hair. As if someone's toying with my long ponytail. Phone clattering to the floor, I whip around. No one's there.<br />"Hello?"<br />The silence takes on a rather specific quality. That of listening.<br />Wondering if one of the others is messing with me, I retrieve my phone. Call Tina. Put her on speaker, needing to fill the silence somehow.<br />"Hey, Em. How goes it?"<br />"Well enough. Are you all waiting together? "<br />"Yep, everyone. Even Levi, though he's getting antsy."<br />Then she catches on.<br />"Why? Have you had a visitation?"<br />I don't really know how to answer that. Just as I go to tell her no, cold fingers whisper over my nape. Thers no explaining that away.<br />"Emma? Em, answer me!"<br />"Emma..."<br />But that's not Tina. It's a boy. One that I don't recognize. Very slowly, I turn around. My phone disconnects, then dies suddenly. And I find myself face to face with a boy I've only seen in old pictures.<br />Lucas Wyckham.<br />Only he's been dead for twenty years. And I still have forty nine minutes to go. He smiles.<br />"Emma."<br />"Hello, Lucas."Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com