Ghosts of our Own Making

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Another Word….

That night we slept pretty soundly; all things considered…

Nothing happened out of the ordinary that night, except waking up briefly in the middle of the night to what I thought were the piano keys being hit upon in the mourning parlor!

But after I finally forced myself to fully wake up, I heard nothing more than Jesse snoring!

I poked him and he rolled over, stopping.

I soon fell back into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, I found out that indeed, something had been busy during the night, and I am not referring to piano music.


I was the first up, the light was just starting to peep through the windows.

I grabbed my robe and headed into the bathroom ( a little too much brandy the night before)

I started to push the button to turn on the bathroom light, when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.

Ss I stood in the doorway, the hallway letting in a stream of light into the room I could see that something was smudged on the vanity mirror. Without turning on the light, I went up to it, trying to see what it was.

Then I saw it all too clearly… and almost peed my pj’s pants.

It looked like something had been writing on the mirror on it in red crayon, wobbly words in a child’s scrawl…

I die,

Then under that


the rest of the letters not quite discernible

Pondering it over, I heard Jesse moving about…

Not sure why, but I didn’t want to talk about the subject of ghosts and haunts anymore that day, not on the Lord’s Day! (almost made me sound overly religious, but I am not, though after that weekend I have contemplated a lot more on the subject!)

I quickly wipe it off, before Jesse could see it, then turning on the lights I quietly shut the door...


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