Chapter Twenty-One: Dancer Hanging from the Ceiling:

A year passed. Henry ended up living with us. He helped Doris around the house. His eyes near left me whenever I passed him by. Miranda always stared back at him.

“I don’t like him,” she whispered one summer afternoon.

“Why?” I asked. She shook her head.

“He’s not good,” Miranda whispered.

“But he seems nice,” I said.

“Don’t trust me!” she shouted. Henry looked at us with a cold look in his eyes. (I think he was staring at Miranda more.) But, my mind wasn’t on that right now. Joe came back into my head again. I did not know how he found the area where I lived. It just happened, really. I ran into him when I was exploring around down the dirt road by my house. Usually, I always find something new to along this road. I forget the official name, but the local kids called it the Old Man road. I walked along the path under the Saturday sun. There was an old house down the road. Many kids love to explore it. I have been there a couple of times myself.

That day felt like the day to do that.

“Are we going back to that house?” Miranda asked. I whirled around on the road.

“Why yes,” I said. I held out my arms. The sun felt good on my skin. Miranda frowned at me.

“What’s so great about that house?” she asked.

“You can always find something new,” I said. I stood on my tip toes. Miranda shook her head.

“Whatever,” she muttered. She still followed me down the road.

The house down the road looked like something out of a horror movie. Nobody had lived there years. The town hasn’t decided what they wanted to do for it. Some of them wanted to tear it down. Other want to renovate it and sell it.

“I don’t know who would want that crappy old place,” Mama said. “It’s just an eye sore.” There were rumors that place was haunted.

Miranda and I made it down to that abandoned stairs. Cigarette butts littered the ground. The grass desperately needed to be cut. The tips made my legs itch. No amount of paint in the world could save it. Even that window to the left of the door still had a big hole in it. I think one of the boys from the high school broke it to unlock the door from the inside. I took a breath and started walking towards the house. Miranda followed close behind. We quietly walked up the creaky steps.

“Why are we being quiet?” Miranda asked. I shook my head. I reached out and opened the door. The smell of cigarettes, moth balls, and rotting wood hit my nose. I had to take a step back.

“Yuck!” I said. Miranda put her hands on my shoulders.

“Maybe we should go back,” she whispered in my ear. I was about to speak when I had the feeling that we weren’t alone. I turned my head to look into the dark living room. You will never guess who was there.

“Joe?” I asked. “What are you doing here?” He sat on the plastic-covered brown sofa with a lit cigarette in his hand. He looked up at me with a scowl on his face.

“Oh, it’s you,” Joe muttered.

“You can’t smoke in here,” I said.

“Mind your own damn business, bitch.”

“Put that out now! You aren’t supposed to smoke!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“Put that out now or… Or…”

He raised his eyebrow. “Or what?”

I took a step forward. “I will make you!” Miranda put up her fists and growled. Joe threw back his head and laughed.

“You?” Joe asked. “How are you going to do that?” I was about to speak when we heard a creaking noise in the ceiling.

“What was that?” he asked. I looked up at the dusty gray ceiling. I froze when a faint whispering filled my ear.

Find me!

I ran to the spiraling staircase.

“Where are you going?” Joe asked behind me. I didn’t answer him. I didn’t even turn around when I heard him and Miranda running after me. That voice in my ears grew louder and faster.

Find me! Find me! Find me! Find me!

We ended up at the door to the attic. When I touched the door, the screaming ripped through my body. Only, I couldn’t hear words anymore. I put my hand to my chest as a wave of sorrow and pain tried to choke me. I fought back tears as I forced open the door.

“What are you doing?!” Joe asked. I stepped back as my jaw dropped.

“What the hell?!” he asked. In the back corner of the attic, there was a woman hanging from a noose. She looked like she had been dead for days. Bugs were crawling up and down her skin. We could see through her long white dress. Joe, Miranda, and I took off running down the stairs.

The police came by that house and took the body away. We ran back to my house. I told my Grandma what happened and she called the cops. I didn’t even know what that woman’s name was. They said it was a suicide. Why did she choose to die there? I still do not know to this day. Why she called out to me? I had no idea.

This wouldn’t be the last time I would hear dead people talking to me.