The Inherited Haunting

This is a short fictional story inspired by the writing prompt: “you believe your house is haunted. What is happening to make you think so?”

“Are you sure it’s for me?” I asked the older gentleman in the expensive suit.

“You are Abagail Jones, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Well, yes, but I didn’t even know I had a great aunt Gwen.” I protested.

“Gwen was the eccentric spinster sister of your grandmother, ” the man, who had introduced himself as Mr. Rawley, explained. “Your mother was the only family member to communicate with her up until her passing.” the man looked wistfully up at the sky. “Your mother was such a delight, I was so sorry to learn she’s also no longer with us.”

“You knew my mother?” I asked. Suddenly I felt like I never knew my mother.

“Through Gwen, yes, ” he said. “Your mother visited once a month. She always brought one of those delicious blackberry pies.”

So that’s where the other pie went, I thought. Mom loved to bake, and she was excellent at it. Every month she would bake a pie for us, one for each neighbor, and one I never figured out. “Sometimes lonely people need pie, ” she’d say. She’d never spoken of who the lonely people were.

“And you, ” I addressed the man. “You worked for my aunt?”

“Yes, yes. I’ve been Gwen’s lawyer for years, ” he said. “I came to think of her as a friend. I hope she thought the same of me.”

The faraway look in his eyes told me there was more to this story.

“Why did I not know Gwen?” I asked.

“Gwen was a fascinating woman. She minded that big old house all by herself. It was always immaculate. Some of the townspeople, however, would talk. The rumor was there were weird occurrences around that house, and they thought Gwen caused them. Your mother wanted to protect you from the public eye as far as your aunt was concerned.”

“But mom, she interacted with her, didn’t the town say things about her?” I felt I should have known if my mom was thought to be some kind of freak.

“Hardly!” Rawley exclaimed. “Your mom was seen as a kind-hearted soul taking care of her family.”

“But Gwen knew of me? And left me her estate?” I asked.

“Yes, ” Rawley confirmed. “Now I must take you there; time is of the essence!”

The whole concept was getting stranger and stranger. Any average person would have run, so I got in the car. We drove outside of town, through a clearing I never knew existed, and up a winding road that led to a large stone house. It was both magnificent and insanely creepy.

“You mean to tell me this is mine now?” I asked Rawley.

“Yes, ma’am. According to the will, it is.”

“What am I supposed to do with it?” I currently lived in a one-bedroom apartment above the coffee shop I worked for.

“According to this, ” Rawley said, reading the will, “you can do anything but sell it.”

I blinked at him.

“Gwen was particular. The house must stay in the family, ” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

Rawley sighed. “I’m starting to see the resemblance.”

This thought made me giggle. “So my aunt was awesome, got it, ” I said.

Rawley rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes, you’re definitely hers. How about we just go in?”

I followed the older man inside. The interior of the home was twice as impressive as the exterior. We entered into a grand foyer with a double staircase at the back. Off to one side was a parlor; the other was a grand ballroom. I walked through the parlor with its pale yellow walls and hardwood floor. The furniture was rich brown but covered in sheets. The mantle above the fireplace contained a row of framed pictures. I went to examine them. One was an older woman with a baby on her knee. I recognized the baby immediately; it was me. The next was the same woman, her hair grayed, with my mother. They were sitting on the front stairs at the entrance to the house. The woman had her arm on my mother’s knee while Mom’s arm was placed on the woman’s forearm. They were both laughing and had the same smile. Last was a picture of a young woman on the arm of a serviceman in uniform. It didn’t take me long to realize the three pictures all contained the same woman.

“This is my great-aunt Gwen?” I asked Rawley.

“Yes, ” he confirmed.

“Who is this man?” I asked, looking at the last picture. Just as I asked, the picture fell, face down, on the mantle. I jumped back.

“That man was my friend, Ronald. Ronald McGold.” Rawley explained.

“He and my aunt, they were an item? I thought she was a spinster?”

“She was. Well, enjoy the house I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rawley started heading for the door.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, ” I said, running in front of the older man to block his path. “You can’t just leave me here!”

“My dear girl, ” he said. “This is your house now. I’ve stocked the refrigerator; the kitchen works, bedrooms are upstairs. I’ll be back in the morning; we can discuss all the final details.” Rawley patted me on the shoulder, walked around me, and left.

I stared at the door for several seconds, completely bewildered. “What just happened?” I asked aloud to no one. “Oh, right, there’s no one here,” I said. “Why am I still talking?” I shook my head at myself and decided to explore.

The ballroom was exquisite. The black and white tiled floor seemed to stretch forever. A gleaming black grand piano sat in the corner. An intricate chandelier hung in the middle of the room. I walked into the room, spread my arms out, and twirled around.

Suddenly excited to see the rest of the house, I ran for the staircase. Taking the steps too fast, I quickly fell and skinned my knee. I sat on the stair and examined the injury when a sudden wave of déjà vu hit. I looked around. Have I been here before? Perhaps Mom brought me?

I decided that wasn’t standing in my way of examining the house so I continued up the stairs. Hallways spread out on either side; a long hall to the left and a shorter one to the right ended with a rounded wall. I remembered the turret when we pulled up to the stone house and figured that must be it. I ran over and went through the door.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. A spiral staircase led up through the middle of a round room, completely walled with bookcases. Hundreds of books surrounded the room with a gigantic cushion on the floor. I walked in and sat on the cushion; it was so comfortable I laid down. That’s when I saw it; the entire ceiling was windows, exploding with the stars of the night sky.

A book fell from a shelf, narrowly missing my head. I shouted as I sat up. I picked up the book and examined the open page. It was a book about constellations. The page featured Andromeda and Perseus.

Just as I started to read, I heard music, piano music, coming from downstairs. I walked back downstairs to investigate and couldn’t believe my eyes when I got to the ballroom. Two shadowy figures were circling each other. “This can’t be right,” I said to myself. It must just be a reflection from the chandelier. Then, off in the corner, I noticed a man at the piano. He was no shadow.

I screamed. He stopped playing, stood up and screamed. The shadows disappeared.

“What are you doing in my house?” I demanded!

“Your house? What are you doing in my house?” he yelled back.

To be continued….

After some great feedback I’ve decided to make this story into a book! Stay tuned!