The Night Visitors

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The old Victorian house crouched on the hill above town, darker than the starless night sky behind it. Ivy crawled up its peeling paint, branching over the pointed turret windows like skeletal fingers. A tarnished weathervane sat frozen atop the turret, depicting a black cat with its back arched. The cat's eyes glowed an eerie green when headlights from the road below reflected off them.

Inside, twelve-year-old Lucy tossed and turned in her bed, tangled in floral sheets. She glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand. 11:58 PM on October 31st. In two minutes, it would be November 1st 2023. All Saint's Day. And that meant the night visitors would be leaving.

Every Halloween night for the past five years, ever since Lucy and her dad moved into the creepy old house on the hill, the ghosts came calling. They floated through walls, rattled chains, howled mournfully. The first few years, the night visitors terrified Lucy. But over time, she'd grown used to them. Almost fond of them, in a strange way. The ghosts kept her company in the big, empty house.

Now Lucy lay awake waiting for the ghosts' midnight departure. She didn't want them to go. The thought of being alone again in the cavernous house made Lucy's throat tighten. She wished her dad hadn't left on another business trip and missed Halloween. Again. She needed company... alive or dead.

The illuminated clock numbers flipped to 12:00 AM. Lucy held her breath, listening. A minute crawled by in silence. Then a low, creepy moan drifted through the walls. Lucy sat bolt upright, grinning. Yes! Her ghostly friends were still here!

She flung off the sheets and crept down the dark hallway, avoiding the floorboards known for creaking. At the top of the grand staircase, Lucy peered between the banisters at the foyer below.

Moonlight shining through the round turret windows illuminated a ghostly woman in a long white nightgown hovering above the dusty floor. Her wild gray hair floated around her head as she wailed, rattling the chandelier overhead.

Lucy smiled. It was the ghost she called "Old Lady Crenshaw." Legend said she was the original owner of the house, pining for her lost love. Lucy found her cries comforting, like a lullaby.

Shifting her gaze, Lucy saw two small shadows flitting around Old Lady Crenshaw. The twin ghosts of children who supposedly died of scarlet fever here ages ago. Though Lucy never caught more than glimpses of them, she named them Tommy and Tina. Their occasional childish giggles reassured her she wasn't totally alone.

Lucy tiptoed down a few stairs, craning her neck to see if there were more ghosts about. She clutched the railing in disappointment. Old Lady Crenshaw, Tommy, and Tina seemed to be the only visitors left. And they were fading fast, becoming transparent.

As Lucy watched crestfallen, Old Lady Crenshaw gave one last mournful wail. The twins' echoes of giggles faded away. The ghosts blinked out of sight, leaving only moonlit emptiness.

Lucy's shoulders slumped. She trudged back to her room, a hollow ache inside. She buried her face in the pillow as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Sobs shook her skinny frame. Now there was nothing but deafening silence.

Exhausted from crying, Lucy finally drifted off to sleep as dawn's light brightened the windows. Hours later, she jolted awake to a loud crash from downstairs. Lucy bolted upright, heart thumping. Had the ghosts returned?

More noises sounded... banging cupboards, clinking glass. Lucy crept to the staircase and peered down again. She didn't see any ghosts. Instead, a light shone from the kitchen doorway. Shadows moved inside.

An icy trickle of fear made Lucy shiver. Who was in there? Burglars? Should she call 911? What if they heard her?

She hesitated, biting her lip hard. Then Lucy remembered the ghosts always stayed near the foyer. She tiptoed down the back stairs, avoiding the creaky steps out of habit. She sneaked to the kitchen doorway. Bracing herself, she risked a quick peek inside.

Lucy gasped. A dark figure rummaged through the cupboards, wisps of fog swirling around it. Heart pounding, she realized it was one of the ghosts who hadn't left!

The shadowy spirit swiveled, fixing its glowing eyes on her. Lucy froze. A chill ran down her spine. The ghost glided toward her, arm outstretched...

Lucy screamed and turned to run, but tripped over her own feet. She crashed to the floor as the ghost loomed above her. Sobbing, she squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the icy touch...

Instead, a warm hand grasped her shoulder. Lucy's eyes flew open. Her dad knelt beside her, concern on his face. "It's just me, Lucy! I didn't mean to startle you."

Lucy laughed with shaky relief. She threw her arms around him. "You're home early!"

Her dad smiled. "I finished up work early and rushed to get here as soon as I could because I was excited to see you. I even picked up candy for trick-or-treaters."

He helped Lucy stand. As he made pancakes, she asked about his trip, thrilled to have company again... alive, not ghostly. Yeah, she'd miss the spirits a little. But her dad's presence was far better than any phantom friends. This Halloween, she realized the living could comfort her more than the dead ever could.