Think I’ve figured something out.
I’ve walked the haunted tour for years now, hundreds and thousands of times. Tour groups climb these stairs to the armoire, where the guide recounts the story of the ghost inside. The doors are opened, but the armoire is empty, always empty, despite shrieks of fright from the tourists. They just want a good scare. Can’t they see there’s no ghost in there?
And then, they’re gone. I only notice when, at the foot of the staircase, the door creaks wide. Another tour has arrived. And a thought crosses my mind.
Am I the ghost?
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There’s a room at the top of a narrow staircase, and in that room is an armoire. It has large, thick doors that don’t exactly close right. The armoire is supposed to house the ghost of a girl who was locked inside and forgotten long ago. It’s the highlight of the tour. When visitors arrive at the top of the stairs they shriek with fright, or delight, I can’t tell which. I’ve pushed my way through them to see for myself but I’ve never seen a thing, not once, not ever. Not in the thousands of times I’ve been here….
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There’s a ghost door at the end of the hall. For no reason at all, it would creep away from the wall and slam shut, and when it did, it shook the house and startled everyone. They tried to explain that if the back door was left open, or a window was up even a crack, a breeze could come in and push the door closed. But it wasn’t true. It was a ghost door. Something didn’t want us to leave the house, and on that night in particular, we could hear it moving down the staircase to find us.