I actually wrote this bit of flash fiction last week, but it seems to fit today’s RagTag prompt. Here is a short-short story (544 words) about a sad little girl ghost. Also, I did want to show that I actually do write fiction from time-to-time. 🙂
The Girl with the Light Brown Hair
I shoved the front door shut with my foot and lugged my shopping bags into the kitchen. Another day in lock down. Is it day 62 or 63? They are all starting to blur together. As I started to unload my bags, I heard the sound of my television in the bedroom. I knew I had turned it off before I left for the store, so this could only mean one thing. I sighed, finished putting a quart of milk in the refrigerator and headed towards my bedroom.
As I approached the door, I slowed and carefully peeked in. She was there.
A little girl, about five or six, I reckoned, sat on the edge of my bed. She had light brown hair and was dressed in a summery blue tee-shirt and flower print shorts. Her pale legs dangled over the edge of the bed, and she was engaged with rapt attention to Dora and her friends on the screen.
Not everyone has ghosts, but this house does, so I was not surprised at all.
Not wanting to scare her, I softly said. “Well hey there.”
She jumped nevertheless and started to slide off the bed.
“No, no. You can stay. It’s okay.” I stepped into the room.
She relaxed and settled back down. Her large, doleful brown eyes looked up at me. I felt something crack in my chest.
“I haven’t seen you for a long time. How are you?”
She did not reply. She rarely spoke and has never told me her name. I glanced at the tv. “Do you like that show?”
“Yeah. It’s funny.”
“Can I sit and watch with you?”
She did not reply but moved over to make room for me.
“I’ve missed you,” I said as I sat down. She continued to watch the screen.
“Where have you been for so long?” I asked.
“I’ve been here. You just don’t notice me.”
“Well, yeah, about that… I’m sorry. I just got really busy… That was wrong of me.”
That television snapped off on its own
“I miss you too. It’s scary being here all by myself.”
“I should be here for you. I’m so sorry. I know it’s really scary. And I know that you are really lonely.”
“They go away and leave me alone too. And when they come back they yell at me. I’m sorry– I don’t mean to make them mad.”
I was stunned. She had never spoken this much before.
“I don’t think they love me.” She sniffed.
“Of course they do.”
I did not know who “they” were but I could guess. “They just didn’t know how to talk to you right.”
She lowered her head.
“They should not have yelled at you. And I should be here to tell them to stop. In fact, I’m gonna tell you this: They don’t get to yell at you anymore. If you see them coming, you come and get me.”
“And you’ll come?”
“Yes. I promise.”
Her little ghostly body leaned in to mine and I could see a faint smile on her face.
I wrapped my arm around her. I guess I’m a parent now, I thought, and my own eyes filled with tears.
LJGloyd (c) 2020