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This week Romance Weekly went with a spooky theme. Jo Richardson wanted a spooky story real or not 300 words or less. I decided to base my story on a true life event as had been told to me several times as a child. I hadn't witnessed it nor was old enough to remember if i had witnessed but it sure does make my Dad laugh when he remembers it. I've changed names to protect the innocent and embellished a bit.
Martin and Damien anticipated the camping trip for days. Mom and Dad gave them permission to camp behind the farm, alone. The best part? No girls. Last time Jill got scared and Rose had to take her home. The endless crying was ridiculous, especially since it had only been a woodchuck. Girls. They got scared so easily.
This time Martin and Damien told as many scary stories as they dared.
Their eyes fluttered closed. The camp fire died out and they had poured water over the smoldering ashes. The the half moon provided little light. Perfect for the last ghost story Damien made up. The zipped their sleeping bags tight. A chill settled over the ground but they were too tired to get in the tent.
Martin sat up. “Did you hear that?”
Damien chuckled. Martin didn’t scare him. The rustle and scratch in the distance did (a little). “It’s another damn woodchuck. I’m going to call you Jill.”
Damien grabbed a stick from the fire pit to smack Martin in the leg and get a girly scream.
In the distance, a white shape hovered in the harvested corn field. “It’s a deer.”
Damien huddled closer to Martin. “It’s an illusion.”
The shape moved closer. It moaned. Martin whispered. “Deer don’t moan like that.”
They backed up together. Damien tripped over his sleeping bag, Martin ran into the tent, and a loud rip rent the air. The moan grew louder and the shape increased in speed toward them. They screamed.
“It’s a ghost. Let’s get out of here.” Damien squealed.
“We have to go past it to get home.”
“Run really fast. Don’t stop.”
Martin choked. “You’re gonna get us killed.”
It's probably not as spooky written as told. The hilarious part was the white specter was actually my Dad who got up in the night to check on the boys as he saw the campfire was still burring. His white t-shirt apparently was the only thing visible after the fire had been put out. By then he was half way up the field to the location where the boys had decided to camp. When they ran past him scared out of their minds he wasn't sure what was going on and turned and ran after them which further scared the boys because now the 'ghost' was chasing them to the house.
I'm excited to find out Victoria Barbour's spooky story. See you next week.