Be careful when you act all brave and make fun of others for being scared of something because there could come a day of humility. My day came many moons ago on Halloween night, courtesy of my friends who were tired of me telling them there was no such things as ghosts.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” I scoffed as we all convened around a table in the large upstairs living room to do a séance. Word of warning kids, I was young and dumb. Don’t meddle with the occult.
“If there’s anyone here, make yourself known,” I laughed as we sat around the flickering candle, the unbeliever in the group.
Feeling silly, I looked at my friends, all of whom were sitting nervously around the table, their eyes darting around the darkened room.
“Unplug it!” I directed, clearing my throat after my voice went up an octave.
“Who did that?” I accused as walked across the room, instinctively reaching out to open the curtains to see if anyone was outside.
I caught my breath. The curtains opened by themselves! I jumped as I saw my reflection in the glass just for an instant as the lights again went out. Then, even as I heard the yells of my friends, the television that had just been unplugged, came on again.
“That’s it,” I yelled as I ran for the door. “I’m out of here.”
I burst through the door, my friends rushing out behind me. As I ran down the circular staircase of the old mansion, I heard a shrill scream, almost like a woman’s or child’s scream. As I made it to the landing at the bottom of the stairs, I realized what I was hearing. It was my own screams.
“Happy Halloween, tough guy,” they laughed.
Contact Duane Sherrill at
news@smithvillereview.com