t's been brought to my attention that I forgot to write Friday's story for you. Here's a little ditty that you shouldn't like at all...
2.
My friend and I used to spend summers at an old farmhouse at the end of a curvy, lonely ten mile dirt road through the woods. It wasn't long before we realized there was a ghost living there. We called her Mother because she seemed to be nice and nurturing. Every morning there would be a cup on our nightstands. Mother thought we may be thirsty in the morning. We could never figure out why there was also a plastic sheet placed around our beds. We thought it kept the raccoons and other animals from getting into our beds. The noise from the plastic would scare them away. A barrier of sorts. At night while watching tv an old rocking chair would slowly rock itself across the hardwood into the middle of the room. We always felt bad putting it back because Mother just wanted to be near us and watch tv. It wasn't until later in life that I stumbled across the news article. I was flipping through newspapers on the microfiche in the basement of the library and saw it. A picture of the cabin was shown with yellow police tape around it. It was black and white, but I knew the tape was yellow. And what it signified. The librarian clicked off the lights to the basement leaving me lit up by the microfiche. The article explained that a widow lived there for a long time. She went crazy and poisoned her two boys by placing arsenic in a cup of milk and putting it on their nightstands. After they died a horrible death while she watched, she then surrounded their beds with plastic and chopped them to pieces with an axe. Then there was a picture of the living room where a noose hung from the rafters. Below it, a knocked over rocking chair....
