— 3 —
“Angie, where are you? You naughty girl, you missed the bus”, called her mother. Still, no Angie answered her calls. I heard footfalls on the stairway as she ran up to the little angel’s bedroom. I knew she’d be there, so I had already entered the room, and I stood there, watching anxiously as she ran inside.
“Oh my God, what happened? My poor baby…” she exclaimed in shock, tears streaming down her face.
You know, we ghosts aren’t supposed to haunt humans as such; just the place where we die. In our case, it was even more complicated. We loved the house. We had just moved in a few weeks before that fated day. So we never wanted to haunt the house. I still remember that day in ghost council. When we refused to haunt the house, the chief Ghost had some worries. The person who shot us wasn’t in their territory, and they couldn’t give us an early transfer till we had some quality haunting time in this house. Tough luck we felt. So he made a recommendation, and we agreed with haunting the house; just as long as the clock stayed there. And the new tenants, Angie’s parents, loved the clock; so we’ve been here for the past six years now. And till today, nothing had gone wrong. I remembered the words of the Chief few years back in the council.
“Mrs. and Mr. d’Angelo, Pap d’Angelo, you are honorable ghosts of this community. A fate more cruel than any of us have been handed has been handed to you all. Till you avenge the person responsible for your death, you shall not get peace. However, it is to be understood that since that person is no longer within this ghostly jurisdiction, you will have to wait till we can get you over to another.”
“We wish not to haunt this house. We are fond of it, and in it, are some memories and something else that is more special. You know it well too, Mr. Chief. I request you not to order us otherwise”, my mother had said.
“Very well, then let it be known that you are haunting the reason for your deaths. There is a golden clock, stopped at the time of your death. It is destined to be in that house for a few years at least. You will be haunting it till a day comes that it leaves the house.”
“Thank you. We accept”, Dad had interjected before Mom could object again.
“You are not to touch any human while you are there. There lies a terrible consequence for the one touched by a ghost. Be warned. It cannot be undone once it happens. Fate is not a power to be played with, my friends.”
And we had been here ever since.
Today, Angela was pale, ghostly white and shivering without a stop. The doctor had come, and to his shock, her temperature was far beyond any normalcy. He had given some tablets, but I knew it would have no effect.
I looked at mother. She was jiggling near the attic window, weeping as she looked outside. I sat next to her.
“Why did you do it? Why did you touch her, mom? She is ill, very ill. Her mother…”
“I touched her because she was crying. I was just trying to wipe her tears, Pap. I didn’t think it would harm her. After all, she is…”
But she never finished her sentence… We felt the wind as the attic window blew open; for the first time in six years.
For Three Word Wednesday‘s 250th prompt (Early, Jiggle, Quality).
© Leo 20/July/2011