Ghost in The Building
I call my friend Chrissy the Paranormal Girl. She's proud of her nickname. She's pretty much a ghost magnet -- her house is haunted, but supposedly it wasn't until she moved in. One day, she invited me over to come stay the night, in the hopes of having some fun and seeing some ghosts.
So sure enough, me and two other kids, plus three adults, headed over to Chrissy's house. It was a three-story building, so we split up, two to a floor. Monica and Victoria, Chrissy's friend and her mother, stayed on the first floor. Eloy, Chrissy's dad, and her brother were on the third floor. Chrissy and I took the second floor.
We had just finished unrolling our sleeping bags when the lights went out. Standing there in the dark, I began to shiver.
Chrissy suddenly shrieked, then yelled, "Martin, did you just whack me in the head? Like right now?"
"No," I said, my voice shaking. "Why?"
"Something just hit me," she said, and now her voice was trembling too.
We looked around, and in the faint moonlight, I saw something shadowy run by me. It suddenly exploded into several shadows, then five, then ten, until there were a hundred tiny shadow creatures. I grabbed Chrissy's hand and dashed to the door, but the spirits slammed themselves against the door and held it shut.
All I could think to do was lower my head, lift my arm, and swing at them. "Heeellllpp!" I screamed, and tugged Chrissy's arm. She joined in on my second cry. "Hellllllpppp!"
Everyone else came running and put their shoulders against the door. Someone was able to reach inside and grab my hands, and Chrissy grabbed onto my waist. They tugged, and we started to move through the seemingly endless wall of spirits. The shadows pushed, scratched, and burned us as we tried to escape.
We pushed out of the room, but the spirits followed us, still attacking. With our combined efforts, we made it downstairs and outside. I ran into a sign, and as Chrissy helped me up, she read it.
"Happy Helpers Daycare," she said. Our eyes met.
It took some convincing for the adults not to take us all to a hospital, but we managed to convince them that slapping some aloe vera on the burns was enough. Chrissy and I darted off to the library as soon as it opened, and started digging through the old newspapers.
"Here!" she said suddenly, pointing to a warped, yellowed page. "The head mistress went crazy one day, like thirty years ago. She killed all the teachers and kids and anyone else who tried to get in, and then killed herself."
Despite the chilling story, neither of us wanted to swear off paranormal adventures. So I stick with her, Chrissy, my Paranormal Girl.
