~Earlier that day; Halloween 2005~
“Morgan!
Don’t go too far from the house!” I called out to the little girl, her Dorothy
dress swaying as she skipped around the yard. A small smile made its way onto
my face as I leaned against the front door. My little sister was collecting
flowers for her basket. She said it was only right for Dorothy to have flowers.
I could hear my mother moving around in the kitchen as she finished up cookies,
my brother in his room probably messing around with his costume. He was a
pirate cowboy this year. Shaking my head, I let my eyes drift down the road a
little to the old cemetery right next to Hallow Manor. The oldest house in the whole town, and the
most haunted.
Hallow Manor had been built in the 1800’s by a
man named Zachary Hallow. He was also the founder of the town, and was filthy
rich. His wife, Mary Margret Hallow was a beautiful, fair and graceful lady.
She had pride in her garden and her only child. A little girl named Marbella.
Tragedy struck Hallowvile when a fire broke out across the country side and
soon reach the town. Hallows manor one of the buildings caught in the fire, but
it didn’t burn all the way. Mary and Marbella were caught in the house and
trapped while Mr. Hallow was out of town.
Mrs. Hallow somehow found her way out but not without horrible
burns. The entire left side of her face
and body was burnt to the point she nearly died. The lady didn’t care though,
as she cried into her sisters arms. No, all that matter was the screaming
coming from the little girl, trapped on the second floor. Marbella died, October 31, 1843 at the age of
5, no one found her body. Mary Margret Hallow died August 17, 1846, three years
after Marbella at the age of 31. Every now and then people will say they can
still hear the anguish cries of Mrs. Hallow, as the ghostly figure haunts the
halls of Hallow manor trying to find her daughter. Mr. Hallow is seen walking
the hallways, every March the sound of a gunshot is heard through town, a
memory from 1849. Despite the town wanting to refurbish the old Manor, no one
dares to go near it least they face the wrath of the lonely Mrs. Hallow.
“Kota! Kota!” Morgan’s
excited voice broke me out of my thoughts and I turned light blue eyes down to
look at my younger sister. Her deep
brown eyes sparkled up at me as she held up a hand full of flowers. “They match
my dress!” She said, and I couldn’t help but smile at her. The five year old
skipped into the house to show their mother her flowers. It was nearing the
time for people to start trick or treating, but yet the streets have never
looked some empty before. I could only wonder as to what was going on.
“Heehee…hee.” I jumped, hearing the
sound of giggling to my left and quickly looked out into the yard only to see a
slight glimpse of a little girl run across the street. Morgan was still inside,
so who was that? Pulling my jacket around my body more, I trekked across the
yard and to the curb, trying to spot the girl. “Hee hee, Kota.” There it was again, and this time it said my name.
Light blue eyes searched the yards before landing on Hallow Manor. Squinting a
little I tried to make out the blurred figure waving at me from inside the
yard. “Come play with me, Kota.” The
voice was soft, but had an eerie tone to it, making me shiver a little. “Come
on… Be brave Dakota.” I told myself, pulling the hood of my jacket over my head
and started to make my way to the old Manor. “Play Kota… Play.” The little girl said again before appearing to
vanish then reappears on the porch. “Hey! You could get hurt up there!” I
called out, and picked up the pace, rapidly making my way to the front of the
yard. As I walked up to the porch, I could feel something in my soul calling
out to me, begging me to enter the house. I didn’t know at the time, that this
would be the last time I saw day.
The door opened
without much resistance, a slight wind blew across the entryway of the house,
taking a few stray leaves and dust with it. “Hello?” I called out, wondering
where the little girl went. She couldn’t have gotten far, and I should at least
hear her footsteps. Light blue eyes drifted across the room, taking in the old
furniture and dusty stairs leading to the next level of the house. An old
grandfather’s clock stood off to the side, its face broken and glass littered
on the floor around out. A few pictures are still hanging on the wall; some on
the floor there glass covering shattered and the picture faded. “Come… Kota… come see.” I heard the
little girl again, and quickly looked up the stairs to see her standing at the
top, bright green eyes peered at me intensely. The look was foreign on the
young girls face and I felt compelled to go to here, see what she wants to show
me. As if in a trance, I slowly made my way up the stairs, hearing them creak
under my steps and with every step closer, the girl smiled. “Come…” She whispered, holding out her
hand, and I didn’t even hesitate to take hold of it. The girl’s pail blonde
hair bounced around her shoulders as she led me towards a room near the back of
the upstairs. Her soft voice humming a tune that strangely sounded familiar. We
reached the room and the girl spared me a look before walking through the door.
Stunned, I stared at the door for a few moments until it felt like something
pushed my forwards and I opened the door.
Nervous blue
eyes took in the room, once the door opened. The little girl was sitting on the
only bed, an old and falling apart doll in her hands. The room was rather large;
one wall was black and looked like it was falling apart while the rest of the
room was a faded purple color. The bed was on the left side of the room against
a faded wall. The bed was bare, except for the girl and had something red on
the middle of it. The red was also splattered on the wall and floor around the
bed. Toys and stuffed animals that I didn’t recognize littered the floor and
there was a trail of blankets leading to the broken door of the closet on the
right. The whole closet was black and burnt, a small bundle of what appeared to
be clothes and blankest lie in the back corner of the closet.
“My room…” The girl whispered, still
focusing on her doll. I blinked back to her when she spoke before slowly making
my way across the room. “How is it your room? It belonged to Marbella Hallow,
surely you aren’t her.” I said, looking curiously at the little girl who so
bravely entered the haunted house. Who was I to judge when I also entered the
house. “Bella is me… Mama called me
Bella.” The girl’s eerie voice spoke and those deep green eyes met my light
blue eyes.
Wait, did she
just say she is Marbella? That’s impossible though, Marbella died over a
hundred years ago. Who is this little girl, claiming to be the dead daughter of
the very founder of the town? Maybe I should take her home; Mom should know whose
kid this is. “Bella…” I started, figuring I should call her by the name she
called herself. “Why don’t you come home with me and my mother can give you
some nice cookies and we can get you home?” I asked, hoping the girl would
agree. “Kota isn’t leaving… Kota stays
with Bella and Mama. Mama will like Kota.” Marbella replied, her face
breaking out into a smile before she just vanished from in front of me. Just
like that she was gone, and I was left standing in a Childs room, completely
shocked at what I had just seen.
Ghost… can’t
really be real… right?
