It’s pitch black except for the lighter in the hand of the long-haired boy on the swing. He lights it and the swing set is illuminated around him. He puts a small cylindrical paper to his lips and inhales. He holds his breath for a moment before releasing the smoke from his lungs. He does this several more times until two girls wearing the same coat walk up to him. They must be twins because their faces are identical, but one has hair that’s short and flipped out at the ends, like a pixie. The other one has long flowing hair down to her elbows. They look at the guy on the swing before laughing hysterically.

“Well, hey Joe,” the one with short hair says between chuckles.

“Ladies” Joe replies, dragging out the last syllable longer that he needed to. “Are you ready for an adventure?” He smirks and begins to slowly swing.

“You had us walk to the park at midnight for an adventure?” the long-haired twin says sounding frustrated. “Is it going to involve like, the forest and stuff, because you know how I feel about dirt?” Joe looks at her sister and she just rolls her eyes.

“Uh, no,” he says. “You know that house on Oak Hill?”

“Haunted Hill?” the twins ask in unison.

“Sure, whatever,” he stops swinging. “Today is apparently the anniversary of the murder of that kid in the house up there.”

“And?”

“We are going to investigate. As in, find the little ghost boy.” He smiles, satisfied with himself and the twins look at each other before agreeing to go.

“But just so we’re clear,” the short-haired girl adds, “There is no such thing as ghosts.” Her sister play punches her arm and says, “Keep telling yourself that Beth”.

“Come on Lizzie,” Joe interjects, “Play nicely.”

He gets up and starts walking, Beth and Lizzie trailing behind him. It’s a 15-minute walk from the park to Haunted Hill but in the dark it takes 23. By the time they arrive at the house, it seems to be darker than before. They stop at the white paint-chipped fence and stare at the house. It looks like every other house on the street. It has a white exterior with Pepto Bismal pink shutters, green grass, and a wraparound porch with a built in swing. There is nothing scary or haunted about the house. After a few minutes Beth sighs loudly.

“It’s now or never,” she says while pushing open the front gate.

They slowly walk up the cobble stone path to the porch. They climb the three steps and make their way to the door.

“Wait, shouldn’t it be locked?” Lizzie asks with a puzzled look.

“Not if you’re me,” Joe says smirking and pulling out a bobby pin from his tie-dye hoodie. He kneels in front of the door knob and begins inserting and twisting the bobby pin in the lock. After a few seconds there’s a click and the door creaks open. He stands up, smiles goofily at the girls and walks through the entrance, stumbling on the doormat as he does so.

Once inside they all split up, not intentionally though. Beth goes to the kitchen, Lizzie to the living room and Joe to a bedroom by the staircase. The house is decorated in the ugliest of 70s furnishing. The only appealing thing about it is the 3 sun-shaped light fixtures in the hallway.
Lizzie takes out her phone and finds the flashlight app. She clicks on it and a beam of light shoots out of her phone and illuminates the room.

“Gees, how long has it been since someone lived here?” she calls out.

“Like, 30 years or something,” Joe answers from down the hall.

Lizzie makes a skeptical look toward his direction but he can’t see her through the walls. She walks around and opens drawers, not really looking for anything, just being curious. In the kitchen Beth is looking at a calendar on the fridge with cats in outfits that look like they’re from Saturday Night Fever. She turns and heads for the hallway.

“This house doesn’t seem very haunted, you know,” she states.

“That’s because we’re downstairs,” Joe says appearing behind her.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Lizzie asks as she walks toward them with her phone lighting the way.

“Yeah, if one floor of the house is haunted then both floors are haunted,” Beth says in a serious tone.

“Not this house. People only report activity upstairs.”

“That makes no sense, Joe.”

“Lizzie, we’re going home. This is pointless.” Beth grabs her sister and starts for the door.

“No! Guys!” Joe points upstairs “That’s where it happened,” he pauses, “You know, the murder. So it makes perfect sense.”

As if on cue footsteps begin to sound above their heads. The noise moves towards the living room and everyone stops breathing.

“There he is,” Joe whispers. He looks back at the girls. Their faces are ashen and you can see the fear boiling in their eyes.

“We should go,” the twins say, their voices combining into one frightened tone. They slowly back away from the staircase and look at Joe.

“What’s the fun in that?” he asks, smiling and racing up the stairs.

The girls quickly walk to the porch and plant themselves on the swing. They wait for Joe to return and make worried small talk.

Joe gets to the top of the stairs and waits for more noises. There’s shuffling in the last room down the narrow hallway and he starts cautiously walking towards it. He passes picture frames with people long gone from this Earth and trails his fingers along the wall. He reaches the door to the room and the shuffling sounds are like a blow horn in his ears. His heart is beating so fast he should probably be dead. He takes a deep breath and turns the knob. The door clicks and opens to reveal a room darker than the rest. With a sliver of moonlight causing a small window-shaped spotlight on the rug in the middle of the floor. He squints his eyes but can’t make out anything else in the room. He realizes the shuffling has stopped and his heartbeat quickens, if that’s possible.

“Uh, h-hello,” he stammers.

A shadow moves in the corner and the color drains from Joe’s face. He’s paralyzed with fear and can’t move. Slowly the shadow creeps toward the illuminated rug, unveiling a muscular boy, maybe a little older than Joe. He wears dirty clothes and an angry smirk.

“Brian?” Joe asks, shocked.

Brian was his older brother but he ran away 5 years ago. It’s what sent him onto a path of self-destruction because he blamed himself. Everyone just told him it was because his brother was sick. He never believed them.

They stare at each other for a long time, saying nothing. Then Brian raises his left arm. At first Joe is confused, but then he sees the gun in his brother’s hand. The fear comes back in a split second and he turns to run. Before he can make it back to the hallway Brian pulls the trigger. Joe’s lifeless body falls to the ground ad everything goes black.

Joe opens his eyes and is blinded by the sun coming through the window.

“Did you have that nightmare about your brother again?” he mom asks.

“Yeah,” Joe answers wiping sweat off his forehead.

His mom gives him a worried look and leaves his room. He lies back down and watches the ceiling fan spin until it’s time to take a shower.