Haunted

The floorboards creak under my feet. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my frayed nerves.

Off to my right, something crashes to the floor. My head snaps in that direction, and I hear a quiet “whoops.”

“Seriously, Michael?”

My friend steps into view. He shrugs. “It’s dark in here.” A wry smile curls his lips. “Scared you, didn’t I?”

Trying to hide how easily he can scare me, I search the room to my left for signs of life. The furniture is draped with sheets and coated in dust. Nothing moves, not even the branches outside one of the paned windows.

Floorboards groan as Michael walks forward. He touches my shoulder, and despite my best efforts, I flinch.

“Let’s go upstairs, scaredy-cat.”

Swallowing, I follow Michael up the creaky steps. Each one protests under his weight and then mine, and I’m sure one of them will snap before we make it to the top. But they don’t. The stairs are intact when I step onto the second floor.

Michael’s already barged into a room. A second later, he comes back out. “You check that side of the hall, and I’ll get this one.”

I hesitate.

He sighs. “You don’t really believe the stories, do you? Ghosts aren’t real, Tay.”

I hug myself, rubbing my arms to fight off a chill. “I know, but this place is still creepy.”

“Well, the sooner we find that clue, the sooner we can get out.”

I nod again. This stupid Halloween scavenger hunt was a terrible idea.

Michael wanders off down the hall and disappears into another room. I head in the opposite direction. I poke my head in the first room, or try to anyway. It’s so packed with furniture, I can barely open the door wide enough to see in.

I move on to the next door. This one swings in easily, and I take a few cautious steps into it. As I’m poking through the dresser drawers, the bedroom door slams.

A shriek escapes me, and I rush to the door. I pull on it, but it won’t open. I bang my fist on the door. “Michael! Michael, this isn’t funny! Let me out!”

Behind me, a voice says, “Who’s Michael?”

I whip around and come face to face with a young boy. A boy who wasn’t there three seconds ago. And a boy whose throat has been slit.

A boy who is very much a ghost.