A short story based on the image shown
from a prompt from Writers Unite! – February 2019
The Haunted Chair
A Short Story by Lynn Miclea
I stood outside the house, gathering courage to go inside. I had briefly lived here over twenty years ago. When we had first bought the house, we knew someone had died in it, but we thought nothing of it. We just cleaned the place up and moved in.
Then we discovered the house was haunted. A ghost roamed the halls, and it was not friendly. It terrorized us. There were always strange noises, doors opening and closing, lights flickering, pockets of icy cold air, and the sound of footsteps.
But the worst was the chair. The chair in the living room would shake and bounce and creak. I was always terrified of it. I could still remember the day that it bounced after me and chased me across the room. The memory made me shiver.
We didn’t last long in the house, and we left after a few months, taking all our belongings but leaving that chair behind. The house never sold after that, and it remained vacant all these years.
Now I was back to see it one last time. Was it still haunted? Had we imagined it all?
I slowly entered the house. It smelled stale and musty. Gasping, I noticed the chair still there in the living room. The chair that had sparked terror in me so long ago, and it still filled me with fear now. Looking at it made my skin crawl.
The room felt cold. Goosebumps rose on my arms. I still didn’t like being here. I needed to go. As I turned to leave, I heard a thump. A lump rose in my throat. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the chair bounce. Then it bounced again. The ghost was still here.
A shriek escaped my throat, and I bolted for the front door. As I approached the door, it slammed shut and the deadbolt engaged. I was trapped!
Panicked, my eyes wide with terror, I raced into the kitchen to the back door. That door was still unlocked. I could hear the chair loudly thumping on the floor behind me as I fiddled with the doorknob. I could barely breathe.
My hands shook so badly I could hardly turn the knob. Finally I opened the door and quickly ran out, my heart thudding heavily in my chest.
Blinking back tears, I walked around to the front of the house and glanced back at the building. A shadow crossed the front window.
I knew one thing. I would never go back to that house again. Never.
Copyright © 2019 Lynn Miclea. All Rights Reserved.
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