Ghost Girl

Chapter 1

I glanced at the small screen in my hand and read the message one more time:

@ClaireBear15 | friend dared me 2 spend night @ this creepy haunted house. how about no. i don't want to die, tyvm.

"Glued to your phone again?" my best friend Beth asked.

"No," I replied. I didn't take my eyes off the glowing display.

"You're addicted to that Chirpr app," Beth continued. "You've got a problem. An addiction. The first step is admitting it."

I lowered the phone and looked up at the house in front of me, condemned and neglected, white paint peeling off the wooden windowsills and several stairs missing from the wrap-around porch.

If ever a house was going to be haunted, it was this one.

The basin of a stone bird bath had detached from the pedestal and fallen to the ground. The lawn hadn't seen a mower in years and the garden was a gnarled tangle of weeds.

"Someone posted about a haunted house," I told Beth. "I think they might mean this one."

The plastic gnome statues scattered throughout the front yard had all tipped over onto their sides as though they'd had too much to drink the night before.

"I'm surprised those things haven't been stolen by neighborhood kids yet," Beth said. "Isn't that a thing? Stealing gnomes?"

I scanned the front door and second floor balcony, taking in the third floor that looked to be an addition tacked on years after the house was built. My eyes landed on the attic with its small gabled windows.

A figure flickered passed one window, then another, and back again. The pale face of a young woman peeped out. A few moments later it disappeared.

Apparition, I thought. And agitated, too.

"So what do you think?" Beth asked. She was inspecting some overgrown shrubbery that looked like it might have once been sheared into a horse shape, but now looked like a round blob with four fat limbs and an oblong head.

"There's something there all right, but it's definitely not a Shade," I replied.

Beth tipped her head back and lifted her eyes heavenward.

"Not surprising," she said. "How many does this make, now?"

I held up three fingers silently.

"Think you'll need backup?" Beth asked.

"Have I ever needed backup?" I replied. "C'mon, let's go check it out."

I hopped over the few missing porch stairs leading up to the front door. I didn't bother looking behind me to see if Beth was following. I knew her pale spectral form was gliding gracefully after me.

Whether it was in the physical realm or the afterlife, my best friend always had my back.

Thankfully, there were no missing stairs inside so the trek to the attic was uneventful, aside from Beth's biting commentary on the previous owner's taste in home decor.

"Was orange and yellow shag carpet really a thing?" she said. "That should never have happened."

"Quiet, you," I said.

"And I'm not a fan of gnomes to begin with," she continued, as if she hadn't heard me, "But if you must, then at least leave them outside."

"You should respect the dead," I told her.

"These dead don't deserve my respect."

I ignored her, as I usually did when Beth got snippy. My eyes landed on a small, black-lacquered box sitting on a side table. It was lined with gold filigree underneath a layer of caked-on dust. I quickly swiped it up and stuffed it in my jacket pocket.