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| Ghost stories |
| They are real |
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16% |
[ 2 ] |
| Created by an over active imagination |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
| No truth to them what so ever |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
| Just meant to freak people out |
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16% |
[ 2 ] |
| Some are real, some are not so real |
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50% |
[ 6 ] |
| I just want the gold |
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16% |
[ 2 ] |
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| Total Votes : 12 |
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 Posted: Wed Jan 06, 2010 5:45 pm
Once I had an old friend named Christine. She had lustrous reddish-brown hair that reached her ankles (although she was only eight) and beautiful green-blue eyes. She was tanned and beautiful and everything I wanted to be, and everything I wasn't. Even though I thought we wouldn't get along (since she was eight and I was six) we eventually became best friends. We were inseparable. But she escaped to my house a lot. Her family was messed up--her dad left them when her mom was pregnant with her, and Christine's mom was a druggie. She died of overdose when I was nine. But just before my eighth birthday, Chrissy started talking about running away. She was scared of her mother when she got drunk, and frightened that it might hurt me too.
I didn't see her for two weeks, and I freaked out. I thought maybe her mom might've done something. It scared me, and so I checked it out. She had died, but they called it suicide. She had left a death note, with two sentences especially for me: "It's okay. I'll always be with you, so don't worry about me now." She had bought illegal pills from the man who supplied her mom with drugs, and it had killed her. Christine had meant for it to do that.
Anyway, my parents later divorced. My mother moved away, and I stayed with her. My dad kept our house. But he has visitation rights, so I have to go there sometimes. Whenever I do, I'll go to sleep in my bed and dream of Christine's death--only it's through her eyes. When I wake up, I look out my window, at the house where she'd lived, which is now occupied by a nice family I stay away from--and I can swear I see her waving from her window, from her old room.
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Posted: Wed Jan 06, 2010 5:48 pm
After I was born, my mother had a miscarriage. Sometimes I think it's a trick of the light (and she's not fat, so forget that) and I swear she's got a bulge in her belly. And sometimes, she's cradling something that later on isn't there, but I think it's the baby that was never born.
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