The Ghost

Janet L. Powell

© Copyright 2007 by Janet L. Powell 


 My Grandfather was my hero.

 “Help me Granddaddy, help me!” I cried as I ran into my grandfather’s house with tears streamin’ down my face. “There’s a ghost chasin’ me!”

 “A ghost huh?” Granddaddy rubbed his chin as if ponderin’ what to do about the situation. I knew he’d think of somethin’. He always did. “Don’t you worry. You just let me take care of that old ghost.”

 I didn’t know it. But my grandfather knew right away that the ghost was in reality my older brother dressed in a white sheet. And he was just tryin’ to scare me. His eyes were blacked with coal dust which made them look hollow under the holes he’d cut in Mother’s sheet. I honestly believed that it was a real ghost. All those moans and groans made shivers go up my spine.

 Granddaddy told me to stand just outside the door on the back porch and wait for the ghost. He told me to be very still and not to move. He stood inside the door with a bucket of water. I wasn’t sure what he was gonna do. I was so scared. But I did what he said.

 All of a sudden, the ghost appeared at the corner of the house and slowly made his way toward me swayin’ back and forth. I was so frightened at all the ghostly noises. But I stood my ground as it came closer and closer. And finally the ghost was right in front of me. That’s when Granddaddy swung open the screen door and doused a very surprised ghost with the bucket of water. I realized it was my brother when he jerked the wet sheet off and threw it on the ground.

 I was so relieved to find out that it wasn’t a real ghost. So I didn’t have it in me to get mad. Course I really didn’t have to because my brother sure got into a lotta trouble with Mother and Granddaddy. That’s what I call sweet payback.

I am an aspiring Southern writer hoping for an opportunity.

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