Ghost Stories

I bolted upright in bed and looked at the calendar. July 16th! The day before my birthday! And a glorious sunny day to spend inside.

My parents were both gone to work already, which I was used to by now (and grateful for). Pounding downstairs as loudly as I wanted to, I flipped on the TV and flopped onto the couch. Time for some cartoons.

One episode of Scooby Doo later, there was a knock on the door. I figured my mother had decided to grocery shop today instead of heading into work early, so I walked through the kitchen and unlocked the door.

I started to walk away, but froze. My mom hadn't opened the door. I sighed; she probably had handfuls of bags, meaning I'd be on grocery sorting duty. I swung the door open.

There was no one there. Just the sun-splashed lawn spreading in front of me.

I frowned and closed the door, but didn't lock it. This was spooky, and if I had to run, I wanted it to be without fumbling for the lock. I went back and started watching some Jimmy Neutron, but I couldn't get the weird incident out of my mind.

At least, not until the phone rang. I was delighted to see that it was my best friend, and I quickly shoved the incident out of my mind. No sense in telling her -- it had only happened once.

She started telling me about this birthday party she'd been invited to, and I was getting wrapped up in her tale. All at once, static exploded over the line. I pulled the phone away from my ear and snarled at it.

"Stupid phone. Mandy? Can you -- "

"GET OFF."

It was a deep, chilling voice. I shuddered, but managed to keep my grip on the phone.

The static faded.

"Mandy," I said timidly, "did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"The static. The voice."

"What are you talking about?"

"I -- I have to go."

I hung up before she could protest and tucked the phone into my pocket. I skidded into the laundry room, scooped my little yappy dog out of her doggy bed, and dashed outside, barely stopping to close the door behind me.

My mom drove up a few hours later to find me sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, clutching our dog, shaking.

"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked as she got out of the car.

I explained what had happened. She shook her head. "Sam. The phone probably just picked up someone else's call."

"It was talking to me, Mom. The voice was." I was staring into space, my body still pumping with fear.

"It was just your imagination." Her tone said that the conversation was over.

She went into the house, and I made as if to follow her, but all I could hear was the echo of the voice ringing in my head.

"GET OFF!"