Las Fantasmas de Giselle

Reads: 318  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: House of Ghosts
Story I wrote for English class. I'm thinking about someday expanding this into a full story, but this is all I have for now. Just a girl and her arrogant ghost.

Submitted: February 13, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 13, 2016



“Havin’ a little trouble?”

“Mm, yeah. It’s difficult, I guess.”

“That’s not the right answer. Ya know that, right?”


I calmly put the inch-thick white binder beside myself on the bed. I stood up, readying myself for an impossible fight, my clenched hand full of tension at my side. My fist reached out to punch the wall, the lines blurry, in action, but was instead met with a sudden chill. A strange cackling arose from the icy air. A big smirk with hands on hips, for sure. My hand returned to my side, colder than it was before. I gritted my teeth in inevitable defeat and sunk back down into the bed.


“I can’t hear myself think when you keep going on and on. All I want to do is finish this stupid math homework! ¡Esta tarea estúpida!” I shouted and angrily pointed at the light blue wall. I shouted too loudly again.


“Giselle? Giselle, is everything alright?” my mom’s worried voice worked its way up the stairs and settled in my ear drum.

“I’m fine, I just uh…” I hesitated. “...I stubbed my toe!”

“Try to be more careful, chiquita. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry, mamá.


Another strange cackle. Hands still on her hips, chin held high, for sure. “Usin’ Spanish on me now, eh? How cute.”


I refused to reply, and continued to struggle through my homework. Any replies were a waste of my time and energy. If I kept shouting my mom would surely come upstairs, find me talking to what seemed like the wall, and induct me into a mental hospital. My blood was wavering close to approximately one hundred degrees celsius as she taunted quietly in the background. The hand clasped around my pencil was tight, almost breaking it in half. Her high and sarcastic voice was awfully irritating, not settling in my ear drums but breaking them down, slowly, from the inside out. Not unlike a flesh eating disease.


“Oh ho ho ho! Your number of reactions have become quite scarce.” Her tone changed. Leaning in closely, her hand covering her mouth, upturned in a most annoying and snotty way, for sure. Quickly glancing between me, her unexciting victim, and the door, her escape to likely more exciting activities. Exciting activities like chasing the likes of the small twins Ri and Ro. Careful consideration and thought. Quickly enough, her mind was made up.


“How boring, unexciting, lacking flavor you are, Giselle! Why do you not entertain me so? It’s quite sad, really.” Dramatic, a hand on her forehead, feigning utmost distress and grief, for sure. “Oh, why, look at the time.” A pause, a thought, a chill. “Ri! Ro! Come outta wherever ya are! Ha ha ha!” A change of tone, back to the original. A small gust of cold wind. A shape, a thing, a shadow exited out my door. I could hear two excited screaming voices. My room was at peace once again, my mind finally in focus.

Living in a haunted house was troublesome, for sure.


© Copyright 2018 B.S. Son. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Thrillers Short Stories