Bill Shaw
Creative Writing
Mrs. Beal
Little Girls in Blood Stained Dresses
I walk into the silent hallway looking at the great arching ceiling, noticing
every detail still puzzled why such a house cost so little.
“Isn’t it grand” the old real-estate agent announces looking at us with a
perfect smile. “It only coast 200,000. And with your credit you can get that loan in no
time.”
I look back at her, and fake smile “why so little, a house like this only 10 years
old with so much detail. This house should be 800,000 for the quality. You gotta be
pulling my leg…” I look into her eyes trying to find some cache, some reason, I know
she’s full of it.
“It just so happens that the owners that built this house, purchased the lot
after a fire burn the last one down. They put a lot of equity into the house to bank
money, but I guess they didn’t care anymore, got up and left.” She looks back with
her innocent smile once more, and takes out the papers for the house.“Here you go
Mr. Stamos” And once again smiles her perfect smile.
Daddy daddy! I wanna pick my room!” Sarah yells threw the empty hallow
halls of our new house. I try to cover my ears from her annoying giggles.
I look down at her and tell her to quiet down “go ahead, there’s 5 rooms to
choose from, in fact hun you can have 2 if you’re a good girl” she looks back with
wide eyes and a smile. I love the kid, but she can really make a migraine suck.
“Oh I will daddy I will!” she scampers off into the many rooms of the house,
and disappears. I slowly walk over to the kitchen island and place my suit case on
the desk. I stare at the black leather and gold handle for a wile, thinking how far
we’ve gotten. I think of how much Sarah and me have gone threw, then decide to
open it. Lying in the middle is a symbol of hate, a picture. I carefully pick the back off
and place the picture in the frame, and lay it on the counter. I take a step back and
start to feel a little dead inside. “I hope you can see us now Marie, and I hope your
happy. Thanks for sleeping with ron, my best friend.” before I can think Sarah bursts
threw the doorway and gives me a hug.
“Its ok daddy, mommy knows how much fun were having” and with an angels
grace she picks up the picture and looks it over. “whos this man daddy?” . I never
told her about ron, she’s too young to know.
“that’s ron hun, hes a bad man Sarah.” she lays down the picture and hugs my
waist. I pat her on the head and she runs off to her new room. After Sarah leaves I
decide to open up some borubon, and look into the grand living room. I face the
ceiling and think about how good our life was going. I was married, in love, had a kid
starting kindergarten, and then my wife had to screw it up. I think about the time I
walked in on them, after getting home early from work . I was about to lay a slug
right between rons eyes if it wasn’t for sarah living with that witch. And yes I
developed a heavy alchohol addiction, but oh well.
(Screams) “David…” I sit up startled looking for Sarah’s.
“Sarah! Honey where are you!” then a voice calls in the back of my head.
Maybe it’s the burbon.
“check the basement…”
I decide to follow the voice and head down to the basement. I look around
and see a pitch-black basement. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I see Sarah
slowly walking towards me.
“Sarah… hun come on. Ive had enough of this.” The figure stops, and stands
still in the darkness. I walk up and grab her arm.
Once again the voice echoes in my head “David… I like you…. David” the lights
flicker and I look at Sarah’s face. Terror runs down my back as I see a face Covered
with burns, eyes bleeding onto her blood stained dress. I close my eyes too afraid to
look at the demented face
“Help David… kill me” the voice rings out into the room. Then the lights
flicker on and open my eyes. And just like that Sarah was back to normal.
I walk into the old building with the giant sign saying, PRESS RECORDS. I
head towards the computer and start flipping threw the slides of old newspaper
headlines. Murder 1967, town hall burned down, 1989, lunatic escapes asylum, and
then I find one that catches my interest. As I read on threw the article my heart sinks
into my stomach. Girl Burnt To Death In House Fire, A young girl of 8 was in her
home as her father arrived after drinking heavily, the mother and the husband than
proceed to fight. The father then does the unspeakable and hits the wife on the head
with a bottle, killing her instantly.
The father then fearing prosecution decides to burn the house down. Not
caring about his daughter, the father leaves her inside with the dead wife as the
daughter slowly holds on to her mother crying out for help. It was later found from
the autopsy of the little girl that the cause of death was too much strain on her heart,
along with sever burns. Scientists estimate duration of death to be 3 hours. With this
I step back, and feel a cold rush down my spine. That thing I saw was a spirit, the
spirit of this little girl, I had to do something, and I need a drink.
The next day I decide to get a pastor over, hoping that he can release and
destroy the demons within the house.
“Hello father Calhune.” I look at his emotionless face and brief case.
“Its nice too meet you, Mr. Stamos, very nice indeed.” The pastor walks over
to the room, and stops for a moment.
“I feel the entity within this house already, it is strong” I look at him as
though this is one big joke. But soon later all the lights flickered, as the pastor slowly
took out his bible and silver cross.
“In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” The
house slightly shakes, and the father keeps repeating his phrase. Slowly after each
time, I can feel the lights fading until we are in total darkness. With the lights off I
cant see anything but the deep black that is all around. The lights turn back on and
the priest continues to chant, I look to the walls and notice blood pouring out of the
wood. The priest sees this also and increases the intensity in his voice
“In the name of the father and of the son!, and of the holy ghost! Amen!” the
blood is pouring and is pooling around us, I close in before stepping into the dark
red liquid. Then we look ahead and see the blood form and take the shape of little
girl, dancing across the room. Soon the figure stops and begins to stare at us after
the father stops preaching. Slowly the figure moves in towards us, hand extended.
“Death, will consume your soul, and you shall be forever trapped in this
house.” The figure speaks out then stops. Father Calhune quickly pulls out his cross,
and the figure hisses and fades away.
After the priest left, Sarah and I began to feel a calm among the house.
I had trouble going to sleep that night, something was still eating at the back of my
head, like something wanted to lull me to sleep. Then the fires came, and I was
transported to the front yard of a burning house. I could hear the screams inside,
and see a figure slowly dig its way out of the rubble, only seeing its silhouette. As the
figure kept crawling I began to see features. The face was burnt to the bone in some
places, the eyes bleeding out of their sockets. The blind figure slowly gets closer,
clawing farther and farther out and away, from the burning rubble.
Now it is right below me, I cannot run from this terror, alls I can do is stand
and watch. The figure is now grabbing onto my leg, its hand burns into my skin. The
figures head lightly bobs, and looks up. It is a girl. It is the girl, from the fire, and she
is saying something.
“Get out, go, and run away…”
I look into her eyes and a jolt runs down my spine, I am awake in the house.
My face is sweating and my heart pounding, I head to the bathroom. As I walk threw
the door, I notice a sharp sting on my leg and look down. I see a red burn on my leg
just above my ankle, with indentations of a hand. I jump startled at the sight, and
look to the mirror, only to find the little girls silhouette standing behind me.
“Get out…” she whimpers the words softly before screaming, cracking the
mirror into shards that fly over the floor. I run to Sarah’s room, heart pounding even
louder. As I run threw the hall way the walls once again bleed for the little girls pain,
and every second feels like death creeping closer. I bust into Sarah’s room and see
her shaking violently on the bed. Taking the bible on the nightstand I hug her close
to my fast beating heart. and turn to the passage. Soon the blood pours into the
room, and a moan creeps threw the floor. Once again I recite the passage this time
louder.
The blood has now formed the shape of the girl, she is angry; it walks
towards us slowly, a hand creeping upward to our faces. Feeling deaths presence all
around told me I had little time. I took the bible in the air, and screamed the Lord’s
Prayer. And in that instant, the house stopped moaning, and the blood splashed to
the floor seeping into the cracks of the house as though nothing had ever happened.
Quickly I ran out of the room with Sarah unconscious, and jumped in the car. Wile
sitting in the seat I looked back one last time and saw the little girl waving in the
window where Sarah’s room was. After that day I never went by or back to that
house, but the experience will always stay with me, and so will the scar that was
burnt to my body.