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The Ghostly Touch

October 28, 2017

I hope you enjoy my newest Halloween story. I’ll post some older ones over the next couple days to get everyone in the mood for Halloween.  ~  Connie

Dave finished straightening his room with a check under his bed. The bright beam of his flashlight revealed emptiness from top to bottom.
Dave ran downstairs.
“Morning.” His mother set a steaming bowl of oatmeal on the table and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head.
“Morning, Mom,” he answered as he caught a whiff of the cinnamon. He picked out a single raisin and popped it into his mouth. “Yum, my favorite.”
He thought about talking to his mother, but was not sure he really wanted to. He was twelve, halfway to thirteen, and figured he was too old to be scared. Yet he could not help himself. He was scared of something under the bed. No matter how many times he looked and saw nothing, he still could not shake the feeling.
A few weeks ago he had confessed his fear to his older sister, thinking she might have heard or seen something, too. He was a little worried that she would laugh at him. Dora did not laugh, but she played a dirty trick a week later. He had just turned the light out when he heard an odd hum. He jumped up onto his bed and saw his old toy jeep limp out from beneath it. Then he heard his sister giggling on the other side of his door. He jerked it open and angrily snatched the remote controller from her.
“Thanks, Sis! You’re no help at all!”
Dave slammed the door in her face and ran to the safety of his bed. He put the jeep and remote in the drawer of his bedside table where they had been and covered up. Dave did not turn off the light that night or for the next few nights. He felt safer sleeping with the light on and his blanket over his head.
Ever since then he checked under his bed in the morning and before turning off the light at night. There was never anything there. He told himself that he was going to keep checking until he started college.
Halloween was only a few days away. He was worried that Dora might play another trick on him. He hoped she was too busy with her new boyfriend to bother him, but Dave felt better after moving his broken jeep to a new hiding place in his closet. He even searched through his closet while he was there.
Nothing was out of place that he could tell.
So why was that creepy feeling getting stronger?
Maybe his mom would let him have a sleepover. A few of his friends could stay Friday night and they could sleep on the living room floor. That would be one less night in his room.
He wished his dad was home. He was in the Army and Dave knew he was coming home for Thanksgiving, but that seemed a long way off. He did not plan to tell his dad about his unnamed fears, but he decided he would feel less afraid with his dad around.
Andy, Paul, and Kevin were allowed to spend Friday night. His mom made them Halloween cookies to have after their pizza dinner. They all had a good time and he was not afraid of the ghost stories shared around their fake campfire.
There was no need to check under his bed since he was sleeping in the living room.
His friends left after a pancake breakfast and he went to his room. He hurriedly dressed and went back downstairs. The bed check was forgotten. They were going to Grandma Duncan’s house. She had horses that he loved to ride. Grandpa Duncan had a stroke last year and could not ride anymore. He let Randy, the ranch manager, help Dave with his horse and ride with him.
By the time they got home it was nearly eleven o’clock and he was too sleepy to bother checking under the bed.
On Monday, Dave checked his costume. He was a pirate so he had only a black eye patch, a large blue bandana to tie around his head and a fake plastic sword. His mom was going to make a fake scar on his cheek. They had found a white shirt with puffy sleeves and an old black vest at the resale shop in town. The vest had no buttons and shirt was a little big for him, but he did not care.
He put his costume back on the night table and pulled the covers back. A soft cool touch crossed his bare foot. Thinking he had dropped something, he looked down.
Nothing was there.
Then he saw it. His mouth dropped open.
A ghostly hand was resting on top of his bare foot.
The ceiling light popped.
His scream echoed around the room.

From → Short Stories

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