For years I had heard stories about the Hawthorne Library,
that it was haunted,
especially the basement  
where the 19th Century books were kept.
For this reason, people tended to stay away
from the ground floor.
I had also heard that they were going to close the Hawthorne soon,
so I decided that my next ghost hunt would take place there.

Two days later, about 30 minutes before closing,
I entered the Hawthorne with my bulky camcorder
tucked neatly in my backpack along with a sandwich and coke.
It was a crisp December night and about an inch of snow had fallen,
leaving the library nearly empty.

I worked my way towards the stairs leading to the basement,
and when certain I wasn't seen,
made my way down the stairs.
I was alone.
It was colder down here as the heat made it's way up
to the higher floors.

At 9 pm, the lights went off as they closed,
and the heat was turned down.
What latch was that she just turned? I must be hearing things.
I heard the front door close and
I was alone,
here in the basement of the Hawthorne building.
The only light I had was the street light that barely made
its way through the ground level's 100 year old window's
thick glass and steel bars.

I settled into a corner and waited for my eyes
to adjust to the darker conditions.
I placed a 90 minute tape in my recorder
as the wind whipped outside
and the snow blowing about
made eerie shadows on the walls.

One story tied to the Hawthorne
was the tale of 8 year old Melissa who had wandered from her mother
to the stairs leading to the basement.
Before she turned back,
the door swung,
hitting her and sending her tumbling down the stairs
to her death.

The Librarian,
who disappeared one day
only to be found the next,
huddled in one corner of the basement,
the victim of an apparent heart attack
at 28 years of age.

There were more stories,
but I blew them off as urban legends,
a little truth surrounded by years of
creative storytelling.

It was getting really cold...
did they turn the heat off completely?
I gulped the remainder of my ham sandwich
and decided to get started.

Before I could turn the recorder on,
I thought I heard a voice,
a whisper really... a small girl.
I finally located the 'on' button,
fighting to keep it steady.
Again I heard the whisper;
'why are you here?' followed by a giggle.

What is your name little girl?
Another giggle from the same direction,
then it circled me.
Never, in all my experiences of conversing with the dead,
had I heard a voice so clear as this.

'Last night' it repeated...
3 or 4 times as she giggled...
'last night, last night, last night'
'what do you mean...last night?'

'Last night for the Library, silly...
didn't you know?'
suddenly, I heard laughter coming from all corners
of the basement
it became louder and louder...
'Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!'
a deafening male voice half choking on his laughter...
'But you won't be alone...
'Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha...' a pounding, gurgling laugh...
'No, you won't be alone...Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha........'

They said I died from exposure
when they opened the basement
six months later to begin renovations.
Seems the Hawthorne was going to become
an apartment building.

But I was dead long before my body froze.
They'll discover this fact when they find my camera
on the shelf
right next to
'The Tell Tale Heart'  
...her favorite book!
oldie - more a short story
Amanda May 14
You were a dark splash of rain
Looking for laughter to brighten cloudy skies
I was an innocent ray of sunshine
You dimmed my light with your haunting eyes
You have a way of doing that to everyone who gets too close to your storm.
megh May 11
i feel you around me
sometimes you are comforting
sometimes you are evil
please leave me be
strangers become comfortable after a time
and the stoic faces of the old
are alive when they are free to tell their stories
this is what I live for
the stories

the orbs that roam the mountainside at night
many years after the crash that took all aboard
the lights that flicker same time every year
on a deceased husband's birthday
the cries of a child calling for her mommy
repeated each night
looped in time
down the halls of this 300 year - old brick house
where her mommy died from a fall

I have known the gentle touch of a kind spirit
and the angry wrath from the darkest of entities

I did not seek these gifts
they were given
and I follow with open mind and soul
for I live in the peace and comfort
of what this awareness provides
that there is more
much more
beyond this final breath
oldie - revised - based on my own experiences...yes, they are true
something brushes my cheek as I sleep
tiny footsteps perhaps
and I awake in the vaguely lit room
somewhat startled
for this is the second time in two nights
but on this night I do not simply turn over
the dreams, these nightmares of sorts
are beginning to extend
well past the moment of being awake

now propped on one arm
I focus my eyes and sweep
first across my pillow
slowly to the edge
of the mattress
which is inches from the floor
I see it
not scampering
but walking away at a normal gate
this bright neon red spider  
large and life like
moving away towards the corner

I'm fully awake and I'm seeing this,
the thought occurred
my every nerve twitching in icewater
it's legs cartoonishly long and thin
I watched in stark silence
as it bent low and weaved its way through the space between my slippers
then behind a box of videos
I sat in disbelief
again asking myself if I were awake
but I knew
there was no need to slap myself this time

I slowly leaned towards the box and pulled it quickly
towards me
it was gone
and I was still awake
still in some place between disbelief and shock

how does one escape their nightmares
when they cross from dream to reality
oldie - true story - slightly revised
Hillary B May 2
past lives reemerge
they pound piercingly on your door
call your number
shout your name
demanding a reaction
needing to be heard

a runner will hit the ground without hesitation
never feeling safe
a runner knows one thing
that one thing is
to vacate

however, I have heavy heels
that dig me in deep
when the runner keeps on running
I tend to sink
Drowning into the ocean of thoughts
Each one of them is haunting
Perspective is all but positive
Restlessness seems to be taunting
Each second feels like eternity
Sulking and Daunting
So much pressure and so many regrets
Each one of them is haunting
Drowning into the ocean of thoughts
Acrostic with little bit of palindrome touch.
Kaity Apr 25
why have you left without saying goodbye?
thought you said you would always be near.
people keep saying to move on, i try,
but it's your ghost that i see in the mirror.
you have something to say, but i'll never know
because there's six feet of separation
i swear it's you i see when all alone
but the shadows stir imagination
and when i forget, and i try to call
i'm reminded with deafening silence
you know, nothings the same, nothing at all
because it's a world void of you existence
               and whether it's real or all in my head
               none of it really matters
                    you're still dead.
the people we hold dearest are most often the ones that have the most sudden and hurting goodbyes.
Skeletons in the closet,
Voices in your head.
Cobwebs in the corners,
Monsters under the bed.

Ghosts from the past,
Shadows on the floor.
If I face mine,
Will you face yours?
Uneasy, Insecure
Agonizing, Pestering, Haunting
Killing you from inside
Tried something new. Hope I didn't ruin it. Cinquain sort of. Inspired by APriCoT..
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