It Sounds Like Fiction

Moving away from your hometown never sounded appealing to any sixteen-year-old, so when Wren Montgomery’s parents broke the news to her that they were moving, she was devastated. Her entire life was here, her friends, her boyfriend, her 4.0 GPA at Lexington High School – okay, maybe her GPA was traveling with her to her new town, but that’s not the point. The point was, she was happy here; she didn’t want to leave.

She was, however, appreciative that her parents allowed her to finish out the school year in her hometown. Starting at a new high school, especially right before senior year, sucked but having to start in the middle of any school year would have been nearly unbearable.

The first few days at the new house went by smoothly with the exception of a dream Wren had the first night about a man standing in the middle of her room while she slept. The dream didn’t bother her much, and by morning she had completely forgotten about it. Wren unpacked, set up her room in the way she preferred and even checked out the pier. The ocean definitely made this move worthwhile. For the first week, Wren spent most of her time on the sandy shores, doing her summer reading. Though, she was unsure if she needed it now since she wouldn’t be returning to Lexington High School this fall.

“Better safe than sorry,” Her father told her when she brought the maybe-unnecessary reading list up to him. So, she continued to go to the beach and read every single day.

After one particularly sunny day, Wren decided to head home a little earlier than usual. When she got home, neither one of her parents were there. Exhausted from the walk home, Wren plopped down on the bed, groaning when her phone slips from her hand and with a slight thunk, hits the floor. Instantly praying her screen didn’t shatter, Wren rolled over on her stomach and peered down to the floor. Unable to see anything, Wren dips her arm into the darkness between her mattress and wall. Her fingers touch the cold, hard surface of the floor and she instantly began to search for her phone.

She stopped, however, when her fingers, instead of coming into contact with another stationary plank, the plank moved downward causing Wren to promptly jerk her hand back. Without the weight of her hand, gravity pulled the floor plank back into its spot with a soft thud.

Curiously, Wren rolls off her bed and gently scoots the bed away from the wall. Again, Wren presses her hand against the floor until she finds the loose plank. On her third try, the plank pops back up and she carefully removes it from the floor and peers inside. Unable to see anything, she grabs her cell phone which is a few inches away, checks the screen and thanks God that it’s not broken before flipping on her flashlight. Inside the hole was a small, dusty box. Curiosity gripped Wren again, as she stuck her hand into the hole, hoping a spider didn’t jump out at her.

Once she pulled the small, dusty box out of its hole, she peered into the hole once more to make sure there weren't any treasures left behind. Then, she replaced the floor plank, pushed her bed back against the wall and stood to her feet.

Before Wren can get comfortable on her bed, she hears the front door open and close followed by her name being called. She sighs before placing the box and her phone in the middle of the bed and walking out of the room and down to where her mother’s voice came from.

“Yes?” She asks as she walks into the kitchen.

Wren’s mother, a petite woman with thin lips, has her arms full of groceries when Wren arrives.
She places the bags onto the counter before turning to her. “You’re home early,” she says. “Was the beach crowded?”

Wren shrugs. “Not any more than usual.”

“Well, I just got news from your father. He and I have to go to one of his business conventions for three days, the twenty-first through the twenty-third. Are you going to be okay here alone?” Wren nods but her mother keeps talking. “If not, I'm sure we can drop you off at your aunt’s house on the way.”

“I’m sixteen and about to be a senior in high school, I think I can handle a weekend by myself,” Wren replied.

Wrens mother eyeballs her for a second before saying, “Okay. Well, there’s still time in case you change your mind.”

“Okay,” Wren tells her but knew she wouldn’t. A whole weekend to do whatever she wanted? There was no way she was giving that up.

Wren’s mother didn’t say another word and so Wren went back to her room. When she opened her bedroom door the first thing she noticed was the box she found under the floorboard. Instead of it laying in the middle of her bed where she left it, it was now opened and its contents were strewn across the floor. The second thing she noticed, and she didn’t notice it until she heard an “Oh, shit!” was a man standing a few feet away.

She locked eyes with him but before she could say anything, he began to vanish in thin air. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes she wasn’t sure she would have believed it. Wrens first instinct was to scream but she wasn’t going to do that. If she ran down stairs screaming like some sort of maniac about a ghost living in her bedroom, there was no way her parents would ever leave for the weekend, instead, they’d be locking her up in a psychiatric hospital. So, instead of doing everything her body begged her to do, she swallowed the scream and just stood there, rigid and unmoving. What was going on? Wren was never sure if she believed in ghosts but she wasn’t closed-minded in the slightest. She knew she believed in life on other planets, so why would ghosts on earth be any different?

Then it hit her. Wren had seen him before, very briefly. So briefly, that when she woke up and saw him in her bedroom, she completely forgot about it until this moment. “I’ve seen you before,” she speaks out, looking around the room. She didn’t know what she was doing; she felt like a fool but she knew she wasn’t crazy. Nothing happened, but she still continues to stand in her doorway, glancing around her room.

After a few more minutes of silence, she steps into the room and kneels down next to the small box and its contents. She begins to pick up the items. First was a picture, either the man in his younger years or a child that looked exactly like him stood next to three other kids. She looked on the back of the photo, looking for a name or a year. Nothing. Sighing, she places it in the box and then picks up the next items which happened to be a small piece of paper. The scribbles were nearly impossible to read and the yellowing of the paper didn’t help. After a few minutes of trying to decipher what it was, Wren gave up and put in the box, too. The third item was what looked like a piece of a drumstick. A weird item to keep in a box under the floorboard, Wren thought. And lastly was another piece of paper. Wren didn’t even bother trying to read it as she out it in the box and then closed its lid.

Wren didn’t see or hear from the ghost for the rest of the day and at the dinner table when Wren's father asked her how her day went, she left out the part about the ghost and mystery box.

The ghost didn’t make an appearance until the next night while Wren was asleep. Suddenly she woke with a jerk and there stood the ghost a few feet away from her bed. He wasn’t solid this time, but she could still make out plenty of details. When Wren reached over to her nightstand to turn on her lamp, however, he had already gone.

“Seriously?” She grumbled. “Can we drop the creepy ghost act? I’m not afraid of you.” Nothing. There was no flicker of light, no chill in the air, no whisper in a mysterious wind. Wren groaned. “What do you want?” A few seconds of silence and still nothing. “Well, if you could at least stop staring at me while I sleep that would be cool.” And with that, Wren turned off her lamp and turned her back to the room before falling back asleep.

The next morning was like any other. Wren woke up, joined her parents for breakfast, showered and got ready for the day after they left for work. She did her chores, ate lunch and then gathered her books and beach gear before heading down to the beach.

Wren laid her blanket out on the warm sand in its usual spot before pulling out her book and getting comfortable. She sat there, listening to the crash of the waves and the sound of children playing for what seemed like hours. She just listened to the sounds and stared at the black printed words, unable to focus on any of it. She wanted to know about the man that occupied her bedroom.

Finally, after completely giving up on her daily reading, she decided she would go home and try to find something on the internet about the previous owners of the house. There had to be something on there, right? Maybe she would find out what happened to them.

Wren all but ran home, groaning when she saw her parents’ car in the driveway. Was it already that late?

“Oh, just in time for dinner,” her mother smiled.

“Go get cleaned up, we will wait for you,” her father told her. Wren does as she told, reminding herself that the sooner she gets dinner over with the sooner she can go upstairs and do what she came home to do.

Thankfully, Wrens parents talked amongst themselves which made eating quick easier and unnoticeable. At the end of the meal, Wren cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. Then, she practically ran up the stairs debating on which phrase would sound better to Google.

When she entered the room, however, she realized she wouldn’t need a perfectly worded phrase. The pale, semi-transparent figure stood in the middle of her room as if awaiting her arrival. Wren refused to take her eyes off him; partially because she didn’t want him to disappear but also because she literally couldn’t. He didn’t say anything and when he moved, it was a step towards her. She took a step away, to the right. Again, he took a step and so did she. Soon, they were walking in circles.

“Who are you?” Wren asked once she found her voice. She kept her distance from the pale figure as they circled the room. The thought of her talking to a ghost was almost laughable. Almost.

The ghost purses his lips for a minute before smiling. “My name is Jimmy,” he answers.

Notes

Hey, guys, so I have had this idea for YEARS but never knew exactly what I wanted to do with the storyline. Last week, though, we were slow at work and suddenly a plot came to me and I basically rough drafted the entire outline in like fifteen minutes. Also, this is my first ever story written in third person, so I'm sorry if it sounds awkward. It'll get better once there is more dialogue. Anyways, thank you for reading! There will be four more parts and I will update every day until it's over.