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Ghost

This was never supposed to be a ghost story. My grandfather built this house with his own two hands, but I don’t think he ever meant to haunt it. He died peaceful in his sleep, the way everyone always says they want to go. Peaceful deaths aren’t supposed to make ghosts.

We all hear him in the creaking floorboards, we can feel the ridges of his fingertips in the faulty wiring. Nothing in this place is without his maker’s mark.

My grandmother has it the worst, though. She sees him lingering in every corner, but he’s gone before she can get a good look. They always slept in twin beds across the room from each other, like a TV couple from the fifties, and she keeps the bed made for him—dusting off the patchwork quilt every few days. Just in case.

Once, she tells me that she woke up to see him standing at the end of her bed. Watching over her along with the painted porcelain angels that line her bedside shelf like a row of holy soldiers.

“He looked good. Like the day we met,” She tells me. She lays her hand on mine and her skin looks like crumbled tissue paper stretched thin over her hollowed bones, “What I don’t understand is why he keeps leaving me here all alone.”

She sees other ghosts too, though none loom quite so large over my mother and I as my grandfather does. My grandmother tells me that her father came to visit one day, his legs finally healed from his accident in the coal mines. She asks my mother when her brother is going to visit again, since she keeps seeing him standing at the edge of her driveway working on a car that he had owned back in 1967. Her mind seems to run in a loop, so haunted by the phantoms that surround her that she becomes unsure of how each day bleeds into the next.

I start wondering if I too might start seeing ghosts one day, and I see the same fear sparking behind my mother’s eyes. We wonder if this haunting might be hereditary, as we watch my grandmother lose track of life and death before our eyes. Our fear is shaped like my grandfather’s silhouette, lingering in the corners of the house he built.