New Prompt (for October 5, 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}
Old Prompt (from September 21, 2022):
"Rumor has it that your school is haunted by a high schooler around your age. While you stay after school to catch up on a subject, you hear a whisper in your ear. You freeze up expecting to hear whispers of pain and anguish, instead, you hear the answers to your homework." {credit to writing.prompt.s on Instagram}
My Story: Meet My Ghost Tutor
Psychology was going to be the death of me. Well, maybe not me, but my GPA. Not to mention, I had been sick a few days ago and was forced to stay home from school. I had missed three exams, two oral presentations, and an entire day of classes.
With massive stacks of books in hand, I headed to a secluded table in our library. Mom reminded me that dinner was at six sharp, so I only had three hours to figure out the make-up work that was due by the end of the week.
"I'm gonna die in this library." As the words left my mouth, I felt a shiver run down my spine.
In 1983, one of the biggest earthquakes that had ever struck our small town shook the entire school just after the high school lunch. Amanda Kingsbury had been in the library when it struck. Not knowing what to do, she pressed herself against the hardwood floor and covered her head. Despite doing what we were trained to do, a bookshelf fell directly on top of her.
Emergency services think that she died instantly and didn't suffer any pain. Kids who had been in school with her that day claimed they could hear her cries of agony through the floors. Since then, kids had seen apparitions, almost been hit by falling books, and claimed to hear shouts of pain.
"That was a joke." I pulled my psychology book off the top of the pile. "Okay, chapter six."
Half an hour later I had answers to two questions and felt like I was losing my mind...and my ability to read.
" 'Question three: the patient presents with visual delusions saying that their TV is spewing snakes that are out to steal his soul, so he injures himself by ripping the TV off the wall. What is the most likely mental illness that this patient suffers from?' " I sighed. "Studying for a psychology exam?"
"Schizophrenia with paranoia," a soft whispered in my ear.
I jumped in my seat and whirled around to see who had spoken. There was no one else in the library. Most of the other students were out by three let alone three-thirty. My heart hammered in my chest.
"A-Amanda?" I asked. When there was no response, I turned back to my homework.
"The fourth one is bipolar disorder," the voice spoke again.
"Who are you?" I asked as my hands grew sweaty.
"Most people called me Mandy." I saw something come into my field of vision.
Sitting in the chair beside me was a redhead with a green turtleneck and light-washed bell-bottom jeans. There was a faint white glow to her skin. I could also kind of see the bookshelves behind her as if she were translucent.
"Aren't you going to introduce yourself?" Mandy asked. "Or are you one of those kids who doesn't have any manners?"
"Chelsea," I choked out. With a deep breath, I extended a hand to her. "My name is Chelsea."
Mandy looked at my hand but didn't move to shake it. "Well, Chelsea, I'll continue to help you with your homework in exchange for something." Mandy examined her nails.
"What's that?" I asked with a lump growing in my throat.
"I have been stuck here for almost forty years. You can't begin to imagine how miserable life is in a high school library." Mandy cringed. "There are things I can't unsee. I need you to figure out why I'm still here and how to get me out."
"Why me? If you've talked to students before, why not have them get you out?" I asked.
"Most students just run in terror to tell their friends about me. Plus, I've been watching you." Mandy raised a brow.
"You've been--what now?" I asked. Even I could hear the waver in my voice.
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't mean you any harm." Mandy rolled her eyes. "I needed to keep an eye on someone to see who might actually be right to save me. It's you."
I chuckled until I saw her face and realized she was serious. "What makes me so qualified?"
"Number one, you didn't run. Number two, you're smarter than you think you are." Mandy grinned. "Number three...I promise to tell your dad everything you've done and not to worry about you."
My heart stuttered. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about his warm smile. It was one of the few things I remembered. "You can do that for me?"
Mandy reached out to take my hand, but all I felt was a cold sensation. "I would be more than happy to. Come on, let's finish this psychology homework."
At a quarter to six, I had all of my make-up work done and walked to the door with Mandy right behind me.
"So what do we do from here?" I asked.
"In this wonderful resource inventory, there aren't any books about the occult." Mandy crossed her arms. "I need you to do some research and report back to me. The last person I asked for help mentioned something about tormented souls getting trapped."
"I'll look into that." I slung my bookbag onto my back. "How do you want me to meet you tomorrow?"
"After school again?" Mandy asked.
"Sure. My mom won't believe that I finished all this work." I smiled. "Is there anything else I can do?"
"Don't worry. I can't get hungry or thirsty. No need to pack two lunches." Mandy smiled. "Besides, most teenage boys are forgetful enough that I could find snacks in their lockers."
"You go through the lockers?" I asked.
"What else am I going to do all night?" Mandy winked. "After school?"
"After school." I agreed.
*****
"That research you had me do last night was deep and dark." I opened my laptop as Mandy materialized next to me. "There are rituals I could do, but there isn't a guarantee that they will work. The only surefire way to help you get to rest is to complete any unfinished business you may have. Is there anything you meant to do when you were in school?"
Mandy blew out a deep sigh. "There were so many things I had planned for myself." She shook her head. "I don't know."
"What was the biggest thing that you wanted to do?" I asked. "Your biggest dream?"
Mandy covered her face with her hands. "We can't do it."
"Come on, how difficult can the dreams of a seventeen-year-old girl be?" I asked.
"I wanted to marry my boyfriend. That was my biggest wish." Mandy covered her face. "I know. I'm shallow. When I was seventeen, I was so worried about moving away and making new friends in college that I wanted a constant. We were going to school together. I figured the next step was marriage."
"You don't have to explain it." I opened a new tab on my computer. "What was his name?"
"Clark Andrews." Mandy scooted closer to get a view of my computer.
I opened up Facebook and searched the name with our town name. Sure enough, a man who appeared to be in his mid-fifties popped up. "That him?"
"He has gray hair now, but yes. I'd recognize those blue eyes anywhere." Mandy smiled. "He's still here then?"
I pulled up Yellow Pages and searched for the same thing. There was only one result. A house no more than two blocks from the school. I printed off the page.
"Can you leave this place?" I asked.
"I've been too afraid to try. I didn't leave the library until graduation." Mandy shrugged. "Maybe?"
"We have to try." I placed my computer back into my bag and picked it up. "Come on."
She stopped at the door to the main entrance. "I can't do it."
"Amanda. If you want to be free, you have to try to leave. Seeing Clark is the only way to finish your business." I held the door open. "Go."
Mandy took a deep breath and extended one leg over the threshold. When nothing happened, she placed it on the sidewalk. Before long, she was outside.
"So, how do you feel?" I asked.
"Amazing." She opened her arms. "I haven't seen unfiltered daylight in years."
"I hate to break your basking moment, but we need to go." I started walking to the east. "My mom expects me home in an hour."
As we walked, Mandy talked about how so much had changed. In fact, she talked the whole way to Clark's house. If I learned anything from psychology, it was that people tended to fill awkward moments with talking. Mandy was nervous to see Clark after so long.
"It hasn't changed." Mandy stopped in her tracks.
"What hasn't?" I asked.
"His house. This is the house he lived in when we were together. He hasn't changed a single detail about it." Chelsea walked over to the tree in the front yard and ran her hand over what I could only imagine was a heart with their initials in it.
"Let's go inside," I said.
With a rapid heartbeat, I walked up the steps of the porch to the front door of the maroon house. I knocked gently. There were footsteps on the other side and the same man I saw on Facebook answered the door.
"Hello. How can I help you?" Clark asked.
"Your name is Clark Andrews, right?" I asked. When he nodded I continued with the scheme I made up on the walk over. "My name is Chelsea Greystone, and I work for the John Adams High Herald. We're doing a piece on the earthquake of 1983, would you be willing to talk to me for a bit?"
"Come in." Clark stepped out of the way.
He led me into his living room, which looked like he hadn't changed the furniture since the 80s. I sat on a vintage green suede couch.
"What do you want to know?" Clark asked.
"The piece is nearly finished with some other interviews that I've done and from the information faculty members have provided, but I did have some questions about the girl who was killed in the earthquake, Amanda. You dated her, right?" I asked.
Clark leaned back in his armchair. "Yes, you could say that."
"What do you mean?" I asked with a furrowed brow.
"We weren't like the other couples in high school. Amanda was so sure of herself. Her confidence filled a room and charmed everyone. I was the popular boy in school who everyone wanted to date. But we didn't care what others thought." Clark looked off into the distance. "We never fought. Not once. No one could've been better suited for me."
"So, you were in love?" I asked.
Clark got up and walked to a cabinet in the living room. He rummaged around for a second before producing a navy velvet box. "After we arrived at college, I was going to ask her to marry me. The ring is my grandmother's. My dad had it refurbished after she passed because he knew how much she wanted it to stay in the family. I never married anyone else. No one was as good as my Mandy. Sometimes it even feels like she's still here."
Mandy appeared briefly behind Clark. She had tears in her eyes as she waved goodbye to me. As she slowly faded to nothingness, I saw her whisper that she loved Clark.
"Is that all you needed?" Clark asked.
"Yes, that's all." I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. "Thank you."
Happy Writing,
Ally Mac
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