The Ghost

One day, when the wind was howling like a wolf, and the bats were having a feast, Mr. Hyde was in his bedroom. It was midnight, but of course, he wasn’t sleeping. He never slept, always plotting his next evil plan. He was mumbling to himself, and tonight, it seemed like he was a dog. He was rolling around like a maniacal idiot (not that he wasn’t always.)

Then, I, the ghost who haunted the night, saw him through his window and thought that I should enter. Not his house, but his body.

So I flew through his window as fast as a falcon, and I entered his body. But again, of course, I was unlucky. Since the only reason he was rolling around like a stupid dog was that there was another ghost inside him. I never did work out at the gym, so obviously he won the fight.

So I was forced to haunt his house. The next morning, when Mr. Hyde woke up, he felt very eerie, like there was something inside of him, which both you and I certainly knew: there was a ghost inside him. And that ghost was powerful. He entered through your dreams. Through your biggest nightmares, like a spy. Like a robber.

But then Mr. Hyde? He was powerful, too. He may have even been the most powerful man on this earth. So, he broke free. That ghost went flying out the window, whining like a wet cat.

But then, he realized that there was another noise in that house. That noise was me.

Obviously, a ghost doesn’t go around saying “who, who!” (That’s him floating in the wind). So, now you know we didn’t like screaming. In fact, we didn’t even mean to make noise at all. But we had to. Unless we wanted to be still for life. Yet, other ghosts didn’t have an option. They were frozen. Frozen by hard magic. Turned to stone. Practically statues. And crushed under the power of good. I’m lucky that I wasn’t not crushed like that. Maybe one day I might be. But I hoped not.

But now, Mr. Hyde really noticed that there was something going on. And being a scientist, mad or not, you had to be smart. So he was, and then he held a seance to call the ghost, which he sensed in the house. So he called all his neighbors, all his close friends, and far friends, too. He called all his family members and everybody else he knew.

And then, that’s when I had to fight. I had to fight against all of the rituals they did to call me. And I could hear them. I could hear them like thunder in my ear. But my willpower didn’t let them call me, didn’t let them see me. And then, I had to do something.

My mother had once said, “Only use this spell in the deepest of dangers.” It was the only spell I knew. And this was dangerous. They were going to see me. They were going to kill me. I thought about it. For a long long time. Then, I decided I just had to do it. So I used it! I used the spell. In a booming voice, much stronger than theirs. And then, all of them froze. And then, I said the backup spell. The one that would crush them.

I thought, Should I crush them? Or should I not?

Then, I decided not to. I knew how I’d been crushed. Crushed with only my spirit left to roam. No one could hear me. No one could see me. Then, I would have gotten used to it. But still, I thought, No.

So then, I just left.

Now, Mr. Hyde — his story was one of the past. One that I will always tell. For eons and eons to come. And his story, I’ve just told you.


One thought on “The Ghost”

  1. Brilliant writing by a child of 8 years old in terms of plotting the scene, selection of words, dipicion of positive attitude to conclude the story. The child deserves encouragement.

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