Story #2

STORY #2

Title of my Story: Hush

Genre: Mystery, Thriller

Logline: A man found out if a rumor was true or just a rumor.

 

My Story:

In a small village where I lived at, there was a rumor circulating about a boy who died of unknown reasons. With no relatives nor friends, no funeral was held for him.  Since his tragic death, there had been reports from the cemetery groundskeeper, Mr. Cordell, about a boy wandering about the cemetery on midnight. When Mr. Cordell went up to confront the boy, he disappeared mysteriously. The man thought that the boy was just clever in hiding but he can’t deny that he suspected that he was the ghost of the late boy.

Eventually, poor Mr. Cordell grew scared and he quit his job. Anyone brave enough to take the job quit after a short period. They said they witnessed the same thing.

Nobody was sure who that boy was. But more than half of the village was convinced that it was the ghost.

I myself don’t believe it. The pay for the nightshift for being the groundskeeper had gone high since nobody dared to take the job so I thought why not?

“Uncle, are you sure you’ll be fine by yourself? Do you want me to come with you?”

I smiled as I ruffled my worried nephew’s black hair. “Don’t worry, James! I can handle this.”

With that, I exited the house.

By fifteen minutes of walking, I could see the rusty metal gates of the cemetery. The gates made a creak as I pushed it and my vision was met with untidy rows of gravestones clouded by thin wisps of mist.

I had to admit, the scene looked eerie as a whole.

Brushing it aside, I walked to the post where I was supposed to watch the grave from, turned on the dim lights and sat at an old chair.

The cemetery remained quiet and nothing happened like how it should be. It was when the clock struck twelve that something, or more like someone, showed up.

From my position, I could see a boy with a mop of messy black hair wandering around the gravestones. This must be the boy everyone was talking about.

I clicked my tongue and walked over to the boy. The boy’s hair, height and silhouette looked awfully similar to my nephew’s. I grabbed his forearm and spun him around before he could run. Concluding that it was indeed my worried nephew, I scolded him. “James, you shouldn’t be here.”

James remained silent and motionless. Did he felt guilty for sneaking around?

“Can you go home by yourself?”

He shook his head.

“Fine. I’ll take you home. Nobody dared to come to the grave anyway.”

On the way, no words were exchanged. He must have been very embarrassed for getting caught. On the doorstep, I searched for the house key but I couldn’t find it. I knocked on the door, hoping that my brother was still up.

It wasn’t my brother who answered the door. To my horror, it was my nephew that showed up from the other side of the door. It was James.

I whipped my head to my side, where James was supposed to be. My eyes widened and I froze in shock. There was no one there.

 “Why are you here?” asked James.

“…Holy cow.”