Writing.Com Contest entries

The Boy Named Twenty-Eight

This is for Tiggy's Birthday bash

1061 words
The Story of a boy named Twenty-eight
By Lisa Noe

It was the tenth month of the year on the tenth day of the year I am a ten year old little girl alone in the house on Halloween, the noises of the house are frightening me. I keep hearing a voice calling my name
But I don’t see anybody or anything out of place. I finally get the courage to go to the basement to see what I keep hearing, when I slowly walk down the stairs they creaked each time I put my foot down.
I heard a voice calling my name, but where was the person, I could not find a sign of anybody having been in the basement for many months. I am waiting for my parents to get home so that I can go trick or treating
I go back upstairs and begin to put on my costume, I will be dressing as a princess, I have a long gown with a golden crown I even have a wand like the fairy Godmother. After dressing I hear that voice calling to me again, it is driving me crazy and I am afraid and I don’t want to be home alone any longer. My parents had to both work late so they gave me the key this morning before I went to school so I could get in the house when I got home. They don’t make it a habit of leaving me alone but they know that I won’t burn the house down or anything. Again and again the voice calls to me. I look outside but there is no one there.
I get to thinking and I have not checked the attic for anything perhaps the voice was coming from the attic.
I pull down the latter and I slowly climb up into the attic one step at a time. I’m very careful because If I got hurt my parents would never trust me to be alone again. When I got up to the attic I saw where it looked like someone had been there it was in disarray. I heard the voice once again and this time it sounded close by, I was really scared I can tell you. I saw a box move and I jumped and screamed and then the voice called my name and told me not to fear him. I was curious so I walked towards the box that had moved and when I got there and looked behind the box I saw a little boy. “ Who are you?” I asked. I’m twenty-eight, wow that’s a weird name, well I died and I am the twenty –eighth*black* person to come back to the place where I used to live when I was alive. “You mean you’re a real live ghost?” “Yes”.
“Why are you here?”
“I was killed by someone and I must stay here until that person is caught and punished and the truth revealed”. I stayed in the attic with Twenty-eight for an hour or so until I heard my parents come home. I rushed down the stairs from the attic and greeted my parents at the door, begging them to take me trick or treating. They put me off for a few minutes but I was relentless and so they got changed and walked me around the neighborhood from house to house. I kept thinking about Twenty-eightI new I was planning on sharing my candy with him, I was determined to find out how he was killed and who did it. Because he really wants to move on and go to Heaven but he can’t until the guilty person is punished for killing him. He was just a young lad, I can’t believe someone would hurt a little boy that way. Late that night after my parents went to bed I sneaked up stairs to be with Twenty-eight “Hi I brought you some of my Halloween goodies.”
“I thank you, but I don’t eat I’m dead.”
“Who killed you”
“Some neighborhood teenagers, I happened upon their pot patch and they were afraid I would tell so they mad it look like I did it myself. I was not allowed to be buried in the catholic cemetery because they think I did this to my self.”
“What are their names and where is their stash, I’ll tell my parents to get the police after them.”
“We set and talked most of the night up until about 5:00 AM. I then sneaked back down to my room where I wrote all of these exciting revelations down in my diary.”
I told my mother the next morning that we had a ghost living in the house, she dismissed it as being a Halloween prank or something, what could I do to help Twenty-eight
I started crying and telling my mother all of the things that Twenty-eight had told me.
My mother’s smile faded and her brow furrowed as if she were concerned. She knew that a young boy had lived here and had died mysteriously by hanging. She could not believe that her daughter could know so many facts about the boy named Thomas Langley.
“Are you telling me the truth?”
“Yeah!” I then told her where the pot patch was located.
For some strange reason I believe you, so who did you say those boys were?”
“it’s those teen-age boys down the road that live in the Racks house.” I said.
My mother had a job in the County Clerks office, which was combined with the sheriffs department and she swore she would get to the bottom of this boy’s death. She researched the old news paper accounts of what happened. She found out many facts that were disregarded at the time of the boy’s death things just didn’t add up in her mind this boy was murdered and she went to the sheriff’s office and told him so.
She offered up the pot patch location to prove they had a reason to kill the lad.
They went back over the facts of the case and with this new information that was now brought to light, Twenty-eight could now be free and go to Heaven because they proved without doubt that he was killed by the boys and those boys were arrested and jailed. I helped to free the soul of this poor boy I knew as Twenty-eight