Ghostie

Clicking over and over, Genevieve Luvet snapped picture after picture, varying the angle and her facial expressions with every new take. 

Genevieve flaunted her artistic flair through her selfies. She prided herself on her thousands of followers on Instagram. Looking through the pictures with a judgmental stare, Gen’s eyebrows scrunched as each photo became more and more distorted. In the final picture, a shadowy figure floated in front of Gen’s profile in the mirror, obscuring her features. Gasping in fright, Gen showed the picture to those around her. 

“A ghost? You really believe in that crap?” Aayden, Gen’s brother, cackled. 

“While I believe in an afterlife, I’m pretty sure spirits aren’t photobombing your daily selfies,” Gen’s bestie, Bonnie, commented with an air of confidence. 

Annoyed with her friends’ lack of loyalty, Gen stormed away, yelling over her shoulder, “You know, this is how every horror movie begins. The non-believers go first, while the protagonist lives. See you never!.”

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Arriving home, Gen realized no one else was there. Sighing in dismay, Gen uttered, “Well, I’m definitely dying tonight.” With a sad chuckle, Gen shrugged and entered the house, locking all the doors and turning on every light switch she passed. The room glowed brightly in the dark evening, eliminating every shadow and every hiding place a person or entity could come from. Too paranoid to sleep, Gen curled up on her burgundy love seat under a gray fuzzy blanket, determined to watch the entire Harry Potter series through the night.

Five minutes into the movie, Gen rose from her comfortable seat, too jittery to relax. With no one in the house, she began stress cleaning, getting out the vacuum, mop, duster, and window cleaner. Wiping counters and dusting shelves, Gen continued to listen to the movie, more at ease by being productive. 

Once the countertops were spotless and the floors were shining, free from contaminants, Gen was able to make snacks. To avoid sleep, she made an extra strong pot of coffee and popped buttery popcorn. Topping the bowl off with gummy bears and chocolate pieces, the young woman was satisfied. She walked from the counter to the couch with her snacks and caffeinated beverage and prepared to binge the rest of the franchise. 

Instead of settling in, Gen jumped out of her skin when the front door hit the wall with a BANG! and several picture frames crashed to the floor. Leaping up in fright, Gen hurriedly shut and locked the door, bolting it this time as well. 

“Yep, I’m a goner. Time to write my will and leave a video,” Gen anxiously remarked, filling the silence with sarcasm, her usual coping method. The young woman continued through the house, locking windows tightly and bolting the other two doors. Still muttering to herself, Gen said, “Of course, the one weekend a ghost appears in my pic, my parents leave town for the weekend and my idiot brother sneaks out to see his girlfriend.” 

Gen screamed in terror as she passed the entryway again, seeing the same dark figure in the mirror in the foyer. This time, the spirit developed shape and color in its transparent state. As if on cue, the spirit shrieked back, and the mirror shattered. Ducking her head and holding her arms in front of her like a shield, Gen ran into the living room, where the lights were brightest. Spinning frantically in circles, the redhead searched for the figure to appear again. After a few moments of silence, Gen turned to the space where the mirror shattered, only to find nothing amiss. There were no glass pieces on the ground, as though nothing had happened. 

“I’m going crazy!” Gen called out, beginning to sob into her hands, blocking the light and the hallucinations around her. She fell against the arm of the couch, collapsing to the ground, still shaking with tears, hyperventilating. 

Once her breathing slowed, Gen blindly reached for her phone on the couch. Through the tears, she grasped it. She opened it and dialed Aayden’s contact. “Straight to voicemail, of course,” Gen mumbled. “Hey moron, it’s your sister. Something is happening at the house. I’m not crazy, it’s…”

The TV, having moved onto Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, abruptly went black. Sitting on the shelf below, Alexa turned on without warning, blaring “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” by Tiny Tim at the highest volume. 

Gen screeched, dropping her phone and accidentally kicking it under the couch. Scrambling to her feet, Gen lurched for the bathroom closest to the living room. Struggling with the lock for a moment, she managed to successfully lock herself inside. There was no window, and no mirror in this bathroom. Once again falling to the floor, Gen curled up in a fetal position and rocked herself back and forth. The song continued to blast through the house. 

As quickly as it started, Alexa stopped, as if ordered to do so. A faint voice began speaking, nearly inaudible from the bathroom. Recognizing the voice as her mother’s, Gen burst from the bathroom, swinging her head back and forth for the sight of her mother. 

Her mother’s voice was easier to hear now, “Hey Gen, it’s mom. I wanted to let you know that your father and I have extended the trip until Tuesday. Make sure you and Aayden are locking the doors up tight, there was a break-in down the street. Poor girl was killed. Anyway, I love you. See you soon.”

The answering machine that had been playing Gen’s mother’s message stopped as well, and the house went deadly quiet. Once again feeling uneasy, Gen scurried back to her place of refuge in the bathroom to wash her face.

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Unlocking the door with his spare key, Aayden tried to sneak in the following morning. The door was still bolted to the wall. 

“Genevieve, unlock the door, you weirdo!” Aayden yelled, annoyed at his sister’s childish antics. 

With no response, Aayden peaked through the crack. The entryway mirror was shattered, a million pieces scattering the floor. Upon seeing a few blood drops, Aayden shouldered his way through, the bolt flying across the room, followed by splinters from the door. He stepped over the glass and began yelling for his sister, searching the kitchen and living room, then her bedroom, their parents’ bedroom, and finally his. Aayden sprinted down the stairs and checked the spare bathroom. It was unlocked, fortunately, and he slammed the door open. 

Aayden instantly staggered back, crying out in grief, “No, Nooo!”

Laying on the bathroom floor, Genevieve’s lifeless body was littered with cuts. A large slash covered her torso, blood splattering the walls, the ceiling, and pooling on the floor. A message was scrawled in blood across the shower wall behind the body. 

NEVER SAY NEVER. I’ll SEE YOU TOMORROW, AAYDEN.