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Kaitlen Fagan

United States

Message to Readers

I wrote this last year and won a contest last year. I'm thinking of rewriting it. Feedback please!

The Ghost Girl

April 2, 2015



In the year 1954, a young child was peering through the window of a small country store at the newest candy. This child’s name was Lillian Dean. She had long, flowing, black hair that cascaded down her back like a dark waterfall and eyes that could pierce your soul. She was well known in her hometown. Everyone loved her. She lived in the heart of town, right across the street from the store whose window she was now training those dark eyes on. On this particular day, it was her birthday. Her mother had given her just enough money to buy some candy. She clutched the money so as not to drop it. As she did this, a tall, bearded man strode by and bumped into her.  She stumbled, and in doing this, dropped her precious birthday money. It flew right into the middle of the road. She leapt out to grab it, as a car was coming towards her full speed. The last thing she ever saw was the face of her killer as she rocketed toward the sky. She fell and landed with a sickening crunch. Lillian was no more.

As the years went by, the small town fell into disrepair. Vines grew up over the once beautiful town and darkness set upon it. It is said that no living thing will set foot on that place for they say that it is haunted by the mangled ghost of Lillian Dean.

“Who wants to go visit that place?” said a short, chubby man.

“I do. I think it will be an adventure.” replied his friend Adam Dixon. He had dark brown hair that was strewn about crazily on the top of his head. He looked a lot like his father and was an adventurous soul who loved getting himself into dangerous situations, such as this one. He was going to spend an entire week in a house in the center of Daletown, the town that is supposedly haunted by the ghost of Lillian. His friends thought him crazy to go on these adventures, but he always came back alive.

“Do any of you want to come with me this time?” he asked them. Adam knew his friends would say no but he always asked anyway.

“Do you really think I want to risk my life for a few scares?” they replied.

“I guess not.” Adam walked away to pack.

A few days later, Adam was on his way to the dilapidated town. It had begun to grow dark and he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to find the ghost town in the twilight. His headlights drifted lazily on. He was getting very sleepy. Suddenly, his headlights fell upon the figure of a small girl in the road. He slammed on the breaks but it was too late. He quickly unlocked the door and got out to look for the child but she was nowhere to be found. As he clambered back into his car, he couldn’t help but picture the girl. She was in a long, tattered white dress and her hair was matted with what looked like blood. He shivered even in the balmy summer air. He kept his eyes firmly trained on the road. Adam didn’t see the small form of a girl sitting in the backseat of his car. He drove on.

Slowly he began to see roofless farmhouses covered in moss and leaves. As he drove, the houses grew steadily worse. He wondered where he was going to find a safe place to pass the night. As he pulled into the old town, he noticed that there was one house that looked almost whole. He pulled into the overgrown drive of this monstrous house. Its dark shadow loomed over him. The shutters banged against the side of the home. A child peered out the attic window. She waited.

Adam made a move to open the door of the residence but it appeared to be locked. He grabbed a great branch of the leafless tree that stood in the yard and rammed it against the entrance. The echoes were deafening in the utter silence. The door finally broke. Adam shoved his way through piles of boxes and old furniture. Cobwebs strung across the ceiling and the floorboards creaked and cracked as the low thump of his footsteps filled the room.

He made a fire in the fireplace and ate some dinner. As he was eating, he noticed a sound. It was so quiet it was almost inaudible, but it was there. It was the sound of a child running up and down a flight of stairs. Adam slowly got up to investigate. He crept forward steadily. Oh so steadily. He stuck his head around the doorframe little by little. The stairs were right in front of him now. There was nobody there. He could still hear the footsteps. It was unnerving. He was starting to get the chills when, just as suddenly as they has started, the footsteps stopped.

He rushed upstairs. A cool breeze pushed past him as he pulled open the creaking old door at the top of the steps. It had long scratch marks engraved in it. The room he entered had a large broken window. You could see a gloomy forest a few feet from the house. It was a sheer drop to the ground. Whatever made those stairs creak couldn’t have jumped out the window. There was nowhere for the thing to go. He ambled back downstairs, perplexed at the puzzle.

He went back to eating his supper. The fire he sat before cast grotesque shadows on the walls. It crackled and popped as popcorn does when cooked. He tried to sleep but to no avail. The mystery was making his stomach do odd flips as he imagined the horrifying things that were making the noises. He thought back to the time earlier that evening when the little girl had been standing in the road. Her image haunted his dreams that night. He dreamt that he was driving a car he didn’t recognize through an old town. A girl was in the middle of the road and he hit her. He didn’t stop.

The next morning, Adam awoke to find a terrible sight. The house he had been sleeping in had been completely torn apart. There were piles of broken wood, boxes had been thrown about, and even the very bed he had slept on was torn to pieces. He began to clean up the awful mess. As he was picking up a box of old newspapers, one caught his eye. It was from the year 1954. Knowing that was the year he was born, he pulled out the paper and began to read the article. “Girl Killed In Hit And Run: 10 year old Lillian Dean was killed in a hit and run crash today at 2:30 p.m. The driver of the vehicle was a Mr. Adam Dixon.” Adam dropped the paper. It all made sense now. He was Adam Dixon Jr. so his father was Lillian Dean’s killer.

Suddenly, he heard a deafening crash from the living room. He rushed to the scene, just as a beam fell from the ceiling right behind him. It missed him by centimeters. Then the dust from the floor began to swirl up around him like a cyclone. It was getting into his eyes and he couldn’t see anything. As suddenly as it had started, the dust stopped spinning and fell back to the floor. Adam rubbed the dust from his eyes and looked up. An ornate golden mirror had appeared out of nowhere in front of him.

Then, pale white lettering began to materialize in his reflection. It said “Why did you kill me?”

Adam stuttered “I didn’t kill you.”

The mirror then erased itself and rewrote “You killed me.”

“No I didn’t!”

 “You killed me.” The mirror insisted. “You must pay.” Then the reflection of Lillian replaced his own. Out loud he heard her say with a voice old beyond her years “You will pay.”

Adam ran for his life to his car. He tripped over sticks and stones and leapt into his vehicle. He shoved in the key and tried to throw it into gear. The car wouldn’t budge. He jumped out and tried to lift the hood. He looked up and saw, sitting in the driver’s seat, Lillian Dean. She reached down and put the car into gear. The hood slammed shut on Adam’s shirt. He was trapped. The car roared to life. Faster and faster it drove, straight into the candy store wall. He was crushed. Adam was no more. Lillian peered through the candy store window at him, as if she were staring at candy. 


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  • April 2, 2015 - 1:59pm (Now Viewing)

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