Haunted Read Online Free Page B

sliding of the pocket doors and the footsteps on the stairs continued.   Occasionally the back door would be open in the morning, but thankfully, as fall moved into winter, that rarely happened.    However, it wasn’t all sweet and roses.   The two oldest children refused to go upstairs unless I was with them.   Even if all four were up there together, they couldn’t stay up there long.
    I was slightly concerned, but they weren’t telling me ‘ghost’ stories, so I let it go.   In December of that year, my next-oldest child saw the first apparition.  
    A loud scream followed by, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” jolted me from a deep sleep.   I recognized Miranda’s voice instantly and headed to her room.   As soon as the light was switched on, she bolted out of her bed and wrapped her arms around me.   Tears poured from her eyes as she sputtered between sobs and tried to tell me what had happened.
    Nearly a half hour later, she’d finally calmed enough to give me details.   She’d been asleep, but a strange noise woke her.   Her eyes snapped open and across the room from her in the wingback chair, an old woman sat watching a small boy play with a train.   Her description of both the woman and the boy were extremely vivid.   She said the boy was about Samantha’s size (My youngest daughter), and wore striped pajamas with a blue plaid robe over them.   He had dark hair and was extremely pale.
    The woman wore her hair in a bun and had a long old-timey dress on.   At first she was just shocked, but when the woman looked away from the boy to glare at her, it terrified her.   She opened her mouth to scream for me, and the lady bent forward and raised her finger to her lips.   At that point she screamed her head off, and I had come running.
    The poor darling was so badly shaken she ended up sleeping with us that night.   From that point on, she refused to sleep alone.   I had no choice but to move her in with her older sister.  
    It wasn’t long after that I saw my first apparition in the house.   My experience was completely different, and the way it came about coupled with the small event from earlier that day, leads me to believe the ghost I saw had nothing to do with the house per say.   I believe that particular ghost was attached to a thing instead of a place.
    The kids had left for school and I’d decided to do some digging around.   There were two attics in the house.   One was a walk in attached to my bedroom, and the other could be entered through a small door in the upstairs closet.   Both were absolutely full.   Being the nosey person I was, I decided to rummage around and see what sort of trinkets had been left behind from previous tenants.  
    Coffee in hand, I entered the attic attached to my bedroom.   Neatly stacked boxes covered the floor making it difficult to maneuver. So I started with the boxes closest to the door and worked my way back.   Most were filled with junk.   Old newspapers, magazines, left over door knobs and brick-a-brack.   Those went to the side.   Several boxes contained moth or mouse eaten children’s clothing.   Those went right out to the burning barrel.   About midway through the small room, I’d just moved a stack of boxes and noticed the back of a rather large picture.   I turned it around and let out a gasp.
    A young girl, who looked about Samantha’s age, stared back at me with the saddest blue eyes I’d ever seen.   She had long light blond corkscrew curls and was dressed in a knee length blue winter coat that matched her eye color exactly.   Her tiny pink lips were pulled up in a pout.   It was adorable and I loved it.   It was easy to see it was hand painted and the canvas looked old, but the frame was gold plastic with large ornate scrolling prevalent in the 70s.   It didn’t seem to fit with the look or age of the painting.  
    I took it downstairs and got to work on it right away.   After removing the canvas from the frame, I used