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Ghostly Misadventures

Alexa Finley
Reclused Warrior.png

"Reclused Warrior"

Zoey Tiefenthaler

A shrill, mischievous chorus of giggles came from our hiding spot. My aunts and uncles had decided to spend a night out, and my cousin Claire and I had been placed in charge of our younger cousins. We were set on abusing our power. That night, the method of choice was a carefully crafted prank. 

 

From the corner of her dimly lit bedroom, we waited for the “ghost scanner” to complete its download onto my iPod, a key ingredient in the success of our prank. In hushed voices, we began to plan out the minute details. The wind blew aggressively, adding to the ambiance of creaky wood floors and empty dark corners in my uncle’s creepy house. The anticipation of the prank was building, and Claire and I couldn’t help but have mischief in our eyes. 

 

After studying the fluorescent screen, we glanced up to confirm that it was time to act. I followed Claire’s curly blonde afro closely out the door. We crept downstairs slowly, our eyes glued to the screen, where multiple globs of humanoid-shaped orbs of color flashed in and out and hopped around the scanner. The next step of the prank was simple: Claire and I had to bust out some of our acting skills to nail the execution. We exchanged side glances and then approached our prey—the younger cousins. 

 

“You have to come into mom’s room now!” Claire’s authoritative voice sparked with urgency. This alone scared my cousin Allie, but Kate looked a bit more skeptical; she is the usual and most frequent victim. Before they had time to ask questions, I showed them the ominous spirits that were popping up on my ghost scanner. Like sheep, they began to flock to the bedroom, running around like chickens in an effort to avoid these pixelated blobs. A small inkling of guilt crept into my head over pranking my more sensitive cousins, but I was dedicated to the prank. 

 

The guilt was soon replaced by a bit of my own fear. What if those really were ghosts? What do we do now? My genius prank had turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

 

Of course, we all cowered in her mom’s bed, arguing over who got the privilege of being the most heavily protected in the middle spot, and who had to be most exposed by the edges of the bed. We settled into a disordered heap and the bravest one of us picked a movie. We stayed in a heap for the rest of the night.

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