Little Ghost Boy

From: Megan Smith (Megan.smith10@sky.com)
Story type: Ghost
Location: 27 sheriff drive
Source: Form Submission
Date submitted: Thu May 19 12:06:22 2011

When I was a little girl, I lived in a house. Its kinda strange actually, I mean, the house wasn't old, we were some of the first people to live in it, my parents and me. A few years after I was born, I began to realise my room was slightly different from the others.

My room was colder than those in the other houses, and I'd always feel a breeze. I began keeping the windows slightly open during the day. I'd wake up terrified in the night for no reason. But when I really found out there was something wrong with my room was when, during a powercut, the door seemed to dissapear when I reached for it.

Then, five days after my fifth birthday, the day my little brother was born, I saw him. Only once, and I dismissed it, but I couldn't deny that I'd seen him. I had had my first glimpse of the little ghost boy.

But then, I saw him again, in the corner of my window. Every night he was there, and the first night, when I woke up, I saw he had moved from the window to the mirror, and was watching me with interest. Then, startled by my awakening, he vanished.

He never moved from the window again, but I watched him every night. After a few nights of sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor watching him stare at me, I finally got the nerve to go up and talk to him. He never talked back, and I never went too close afraid he'd bolt, but he listened to me.

I tried to touch him once, but the glass was freezing and he dissapeared for a few days.

When I got older, I grew used to his presence. When I was watching a film, I would turn to see him watching it from the window. When I was playing with my friends, he'd be watching them too.

He was always concerned for me. When my tooth came out, he seemed distressed and left again. For a whole week I was worried sick. He came back one night when I had a nightmare, and I turned to see him looking at me comfortly from the window, and once again all the fear was gone.

As I got older, he seemed to be sad. Sad I was growing away from him, but there was a look of pride in his eye. He was very protective as I grew older, and I was afraid I'd grow away from him. So we began talking again.

One day, when my friend came round, I decided to show her to him. No one had ever noticed him before, so I was surprised when she gasped and told me she could see his tiny little face.

As I grew older and older, I melted into him again. He became a part of my life.

When I was eleven, I moved house. Moved from there. The night I was leaving, I couldn't find him anywhere. I searched every inch of my window, and even searched the mirror. But he was nowhere to be seen.

After two years, I've come to think of him as a guardian ghost maybe. He had no link to me what-so-ever, yet he seemed so concerned for me. Or maybe he was curious.

I have fondly named him Zashiki from Zashiki-warashi, meaning house ghost in Japanese.

If there is anyone who could prehaps tell me what was Zashiki's desire at my home, or his interest with me, then do. However, maybe it would be best just to keep Zashiki's little story to ourselves.

After all, I don't know where he is anymore.