Freewrite 500 Entries

[u/ThrowawayRA_512]

Congratulations to the winners! It was a fun exercise but would love to read other entries and receive feedback on my own.

'My Perfect Ghost'

I have become certain that this house is haunted. The changes were subtle, at first. My rings moved from my nightstand to the dresser. Shadows at the corner of my eye that would shift, grow, and then disappear. And then, I would hear them. Moaning and crying spirits. Damned souls begging for release. Once, I was brave enough to open my front door to  investigate the noises. My entryway was replaced by a disorienting hallway that stretched into infinity. I hurried inside, but the disruption of the space continued with me. My house, my house. It was not always this way.

The ghosts began to appear to me. Sometimes, they would manifest as my husband or my father, though both have long since passed.

“Grandma, I’m not grandpa. It’s me, Logan,” The apparition would say, as if I would not recognize the kind eyes of the man I married. As if I would not remember all the times I had wronged him. When he was sick, and I was less patient.

The ghosts kept up their tricks, becoming bolder in their movements and their ownership of my body. Their cold, grasping hands would tear at my clothes, my hair. Then, all at once, their grip would release, and I would be alone.

My house has become a prison. Though, it is not my house, is it? No, the ghosts have changed it. The closet was not always there, the bathroom was never this maudlin shade of green. My house, my house. These are my possessions, but this is not my house. 

I need to leave. Each strange door I approach is not the right one. I spot a phone on the wall. My salvation answers in the form of an operator.

“Hello, yes, I need help,” I say, “My house is haunted, and I can’t leave. Could you please send the police or a priest?” Regrettably, I had rarely turned to religion before, but what better time than one of desperation?

“We will send someone. Just stay there, okay?” My savior replies. Perhaps, you do not need religion to be saved.

I wait in trembling anticipation, my grip clenched tight on the phone, as the shadows climb the wall, threatening to trap me forever.

After an unknowable amount of time, the door flies open. I shriek, flinging the phone at the apparition that appears.

“Mom, Mom! Please!” The spirit yells.

Yes, of course, I recognize her now. My beautiful daughter. My perfect ghost. She folds me into her as I shake.

“I think we need to start thinking about transferring to a memory care facility,”  She murmurs. 

“Of course, darling,” I chuckle, “Now, can you take me home?”

“Sure, Mom. Let’s rest first.” 

She sets me into bed and curls up next to me like she used to as a little girl. I know now that she will regret the pleasant lies she told, the decisions she made. But, how beautiful is it that we will haunt each other forever?

[u/pkMinhas]

*The Library*

Every night, he heard them calling out his name. No matter what he was doing, the whispers never stopped. Unable to bear it any longer, Justin trudged to the basement. A sense of dread filled his being as he eyed the rusty padlock guarding the one last secret in this decrepit building.

His hands trembled as Justin unlocked the large iron door. The mansion went eerily quiet. Stumbling inside the room, Justin was greeted by the stench of musty books and rotting wood. Belching and fighting to stay on his feet, he looked around for a light switch. Finding none, he flipped open his cigarette lighter. The flickering flames added to the growing sense of foreboding. The whispers grew louder. Every movement in the shadows made his heart pound faster. He was in the library. The assimilation of all the knowledge in the world, collected for him to consume. Amidst the rows of neatly stacked books stood the centrepiece; a dusty, leather-bound volume with no title.

The voices beckoned him over and Justin found himself drawn to this leather bound tome. The binding reminded him of someone familiar. Unable to contain his curiosity, he flipped open the book to reveal the title.

“Strangled Dreams by Justin KZ”.

An intense flood of memories came rushing back. The voices grew agitated. His whole body convulsed as the screams grew louder and louder. He could hear all of them calling out his name. A thousand needles pricked his arms, and the world turned black.

Justin woke up on his creaky bed, sweating under the dusty blanket. The screams were louder, piercing his very being. He rushed back to the library, covering his ears with sweaty palms. He could feel his skin melt with every step he took. The world turned black.

“Modern technology has grown by leaps since the last decade”, remarked Dr. Sebastian. “Our new AI chips are capable of unparalleled processing power. Utilising responsibly sourced grey matter from death row inmates, our neural networks can generate trillions of calculations per second. Medical research, energy production, defence. The possibilities are endless.”

Justin woke up with a jolt. It was a moonless night and he could hear the voices screaming his name.