A punk with spiky blonde hair snuck into a child’s bedroom and stuck a broken broom handle in his forehead. The child’s body was found a couple of hours later by his father. That was twenty years ago. A mother and her two young daughters, Emily and Julie, were currently living in that home. The address was 323 Washington Street, and it was known around town as the Murder House. Kids would tease each other and dare each other to ring the doorbell on Halloween night. No kids would ever take the bait. This would win them the pleasure of merciless hazing from their friends.

Margaret called her two rambunctious daughters into the kitchen. Two little blondes slipped into the room. Little girl giggles filled the room. Julie whispered to Emily, and Margaret noticed this and smirked.

“What?”

“We can’t tell yo,u Mommy; it’s a secret,” Julie replied. Margaret chuckled. Emily and Julie sat down and began to eat. There was a turkey sandwich for Julie and a chicken sandwich for Emily. No crust for Julie and Emily’s bread was lightly toasted. There was a gentle thudding overhead.

“The boy is up,” Julie said.

“What boy is in your room?” Margaret asked.

“Alex was killed by a neighbor,” Julie said. Margaret’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

“Where did you hear that?” Margaret asked. Emily and Julie eyed one another. Neither girl was sure how much information to divulge to their mother.

“Everyone at school says this is a haunted house,” Emily said. Margaret placed her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. She locked eyes with the girls.

“There was a murder, re but ghosts aren’t real,” Margaret said. Emily and Julie both exchanged a look. The girls looked up at the ceiling. Margaret looked up as well. Only Emily and Julie saw Alex hanging upside down. He hufrom to the ceiling by his hands and toes. Margaret saw only the ceiling. Julie and Emily ran into their mother’s arms and began sobbing. She rubbed their backs. Her heart was breaking for them.

“Leave them alone, God damn it,” Margaret growled. She did not even believe in the supernatural, but Emily and Julie were not liars. If they said they saw something,g then they saw something.

Weeks went by without incident. Margaret sat on the sofa, fa folding laundry. Emily and Julie were playing with dolls on the floor. Something caught Margaret’s attention. She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and gasped when she saw a young boy sitting next to her. His eyes were closed. She could do nothing but stare at the boy. Fear paralyzed her voice; she did not want to alarm the girls even if she had been physically able to scream or say anything. Her arm hair even tingled. It felt like a huge surge of static electricity shot through her. Then the boy vanished.

She went to lie down. She lay quietly in her bed, remembering.

“What the fuck was that?” she kept muttering. She was not crazy. Her daughters were right. They were living in a haunted house. She had her eyes closed; she was quietly meditating. Her bedroom door opened, and she felt a child sit down on the bed.

“Mommy,” she heard a voice say,s sweetheart,” Margaret replied. She expected to see either Julie or Emily, but found nothing. There was still an impression on the covers as if someone was still sitting on the bed. It went away.

Next, she took her daughters and fled the house. Margaret noticed Julie was waving at the house.

“Waving at Alex?” Margaret asked.

“No,” Julie said. “His killer.” Margaret looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the twenty-year old punk, standing in the middle of the street, waving at the car as it drove away.

“Did you see Alex, Mommy?” Julie asked.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Margaret replied.

“Alex says he only shows up when his killer is around,” Julie said.

“Where did Alex say his killer was whenever you girls would see him?” Margaret asked.

“Where he was hiding when he was waiting for Alex to go to sleep,” Emily said. “In Julie’s bedroom closet.” Margaret’s heart battered her ribcage so hard that she thought she might have a heart attack. She turned pale and just kept muttering to herself.

“WE ARE NEVER GOING BACK TO THAT HOUSE FOR ANYTHING!!!”

The House on Washington Street

The House on Washington Street

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