New Prompt (for October 19, 2022):
"You wake up one morning to the sweet smell of home-cooked breakfast. You go into the kitchen and find the table full of your favorite breakfast dishes. You sit down to eat and go to thank your mom, only to come to the realization that you'd just moved into your new apartment last night and were all alone." {credit to writing.prompt.s on Instagram}
Old Prompt (from September 28, 2022):
"You are cleaning out the attic of your home when you find a dusty, old, leatherbound diary. The date inside is from 150 years ago. You start to read, and the author writes about strange things that happened in the house; items moving mysteriously, strange sounds, etc. The final entries describe seeing a ghost in great detail: hair color, eye color. clothes. The desciption of the ghost matches you exactly." {credit to writing.prompt.s on Instagram}
My Story: The Ghost in the Attic
Today was the day. I needed to tackle the mess that was the attic. I'd lived in this house for as long as I could remember, and it still was a cluttered disaster. My parents had hoped to get to it, but they retired and moved to Boston, leaving the house to me.
Don't get me wrong, we had attempted to clean it multiple times over the years, but it always caused fighting, or stuff would miraculously make its way back into the attic. Nothing is more frustrating than not agreeing on what is considered "junk".
With a deep breath, I ascended the narrow wooden ladder that leads to the hole in the ceiling. I had some cloth sacks slung over my shoulder to fill with the stuff that would not be staying.
Dust made me sneeze as I pulled some rags off a large chest in the corner of the attic. I figured I would start from the back and work my way forward. The chest was the item that was furthest back in the room, so why not start there?
Though it had a place for a lock, the chest was unlocked. I slide the latch off and pushed the lid open. Inside was a gorgeous dress with plenty of petticoats that must have belonged to my ancestors. I held it up to my body. It matched my body perfectly. I would need to wear it for Halloween this year.
The rest of the stuff in the chest was pretty much junk. Old nicknacks from years prior. However, there was a journal that caught my attention at the very bottom of the chest.
The name embossed into the front of the leather-bound journal was one I didn't know. If it was a relative, I did not know who it was. I flipped open to the first page. The date was August 5th, 1834.
"This morning, I had the most peculiar experience. While I was finishing tea in the conservatory and reading the paper, there was a loud ruckus from one of the rooms upstairs. After inquiring with the staff and ensuring it was not any of them, I made my way upstairs.
"The sounds continued to come from the ceiling. When I reached the ladder to the attic, it was already open. To my horror, an apparition appeared from the attic carrying cloth bags down the ladder. At that moment, I was so disturbed that I rushed down the stairs to get one of the staff.
"By the time I returned the apparition had disappeared and the attic had closed itself. The staff asked me if I wanted him to send for the doctor, but I refused him, stating that I felt well. If this continues, I may need to seek the help of a priest."
"How strange." I chuckled as I turned to the next page.
The next entry was from October 17th of the same year.
"I feel the need to evacuate the premises. These apparitions are occurring more often and becoming more violent. The last time, I had been so terrified I had not taken into account the outfit the apparition had situated herself in.
"The young girl had long blonde hair fashioned into fancy ringlet curls that framed her face. Her blue eyes were piercing and such a strange shade of light blue. She had a mole above the left corner of her mouth and freckles streaked across her nose. As for clothes, she was beyond outdated. Her dress was upheld by a squared-off hoop skirt. The frilly sleeves came down to her elbows and a tight bodice made her chest perfectly flat."
I gasped in terror and ran to the bathroom. In the mirror, I saw the apparition. It was me, but the clothes didn't match. My tank top was tie-dyed red, yellow, blue, and white. I had on jean shorts that I had cut from acid-washed jeans. My hair was crimped, teased, and dyed dirty blonde.
This journal was from 150 years ago, but I had never once seen a ghost. Not for as long as I had lived here.
How long had I lived here? I didn't remember moving it, but I wasn't because I was born here. What did I do? People worked, right? I couldn't remember having left the yard. I shook my head. I didn't need a job. I hosted parties. At the last one I hosted, I invited loads of people. There was...Oh, great heavens. I couldn't think of a single person I knew besides my parents.
I walked to the window and peeked outside. Children walked down the streets looking at strange metal devices or talking into them. Their clothes were strange, too. Shirts with people's faces on them or simple designs. They carried bags with straps on their backs. The girls exposed their belly buttons and showed cleavage. Their shorts seemed as though they shouldn't be long enough to fit. What was happening? I needed to clear my head in my room.
The looking glass on my vanity reflected me in all my glory. Perfect curls, glamorous gown, and piercing blue eyes. My granddad had gifted me the pearl necklace that rested on my chest. I touched up the mole on my lip before heading into the foyer to greet my guests.
Our lavish house was decorated with the finest silk furniture. Ladies and lords came from all around to be entertained. We hired the best cook and pianist for the night to ensure our guests had the most memorable night of their lives.
I had heard through the grapevine that George Washington may make it to my party. I cannot believe father let me host tonight. He and Mother had decided to take a venture into the countryside for the week. He had said something about needing a break from work.
I did not care what the reasoning was. He had finally agreed to let me host. I passed by some high-ranking government officials on the stairs. They had struck up conversations about how beautiful I looked and how my father would be proud of my soiree.
There were nearly two hundred people in attendance. Mr. Thomas, the butler, had let me know. It was time for me to greet the guests.
"Hello, everyone." I clinked a golden spoon off a glass and everyone faced me. "I am beyond grateful that you all were able to make it safely this evening. My apologies to those who were expecting my father and not me. He has taken a last-minute trip to our country home. However, this party will go on as planned. If you can find your seat in the dining room, food will be out shortly."
I walked out of the parlor, greeting people along the way. I made it to the kitchen as the staff was working on carrying the appetizer out to the dining room.
"Chef Claude, will dinner be served as expected?" I asked.
"Mademoiselle Eleanor, but of course!" The chef tossed some vegetables into a large pot on the stove. "Your father informed me of every decision he made before he left. Dinner will be delicious."
"You are a lifesaver, Chef Claude."
As I pushed open the door to the kitchen, I was met with the silver barrel of a pistol. I felt the door bang closed behind me.
"How can I help you?" I asked.
"My sincerest apologies, miss. This bullet was meant for your father, but he had the clarity of mind not to show up tonight." The man frowned.
The next thing I know, I woke up in my bed. What a peculiar dream, I thought. I shook it off and dressed for the day in a multi-colored tank and acid-washed cut-off jeans.
Today was the day. I needed to tackle the mess that was the attic...
Happy Writing,
Ally Mac
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