Story - 2 | September 2025

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The Little Ghost’s House

TUWA Noor

Lehigh Acres, USA

My cat Niki suddenly leapt onto the desktop computer’s mouse. She acted as if the mouse was her sworn enemy, the real “rat.” Niki had never done that before. The monitor was in sleep mode. It was 7:15 in the morning.

It was a Sunday morning. Quiet all around. I had thought I would sleep late on a school holiday. But I woke up very early. I sat at the desk, turned on the computer, and tried reading something, but laziness crept in. I pulled my legs up on the chair and leaned back comfortably. I don’t know how long I sat like that, staring blankly at the monitor. Through the hazy screen I saw a whitish shadow. Just then Niki jumped across my shoulder. I scolded her and picked her up in my lap. I turned around. No one was there. Maybe I saw it wrong. Or maybe it was just Niki’s own shadow. That’s what I told myself.

I put Niki in her box with food and drew the curtains over the window. Often when a bird flew past the window, such shadows played across the monitor.

I was reading The Great Gatsby. I glanced up. Again, a white mist hovered over my shoulder. Its shadow stood fixed on the monitor. Then I heard a voice: “Don’t be afraid, Eva! I was once the little boy of this house. Now everyone calls me the Little Ghost! I had a name. Tony.”

I was speaking with a ghost. I was in a kind of trance. My father, a nutritionist, had taken a new job in the big hospital in this town. He liked the two-storied house on River Way, Road No. 13. It had a basement. From there one could see hills, and beyond the hills, a river. The realtor had warned us that no one stayed long in this house because people said it was haunted. My father laughed. He didn’t believe in ghosts. He told us that about a hundred years ago a seven-year-old boy had gone missing from this house. After looking around the place, he said, “I like this house.” And that was that.

The little ghost, Tony, said: “Everyone thinks I disappeared somewhere outside. My parents searched everywhere. The newspapers carried the news. The radio and TV announced it. They searched with helicopters in the hills and the forests. They never found me.”

I felt great pity for Tony. With curiosity I asked, “What actually happened to you?”

He sat on my desk and said, “I’ll tell you everything. But first, will you be my friend?”

“Yes, I’ll be your friend,” I said, extending my hand. My fingers brushed through what felt like fluffy clouds of cotton. He smiled. “I’ve already read the Great Gatsby on your desk. You don’t need to struggle reading it. I’ll read it to you. I’ll help you with all your homework. The upstairs west room was mine. It’s locked now. My guitar is there. I can play really well. If you want, I’ll teach you. Whenever I felt sad, I’d sit in that room and play.”

I was about to ask if he had never told anyone all this before. But as if reading my mind, Tony said, “Yes! I tried. But whenever I began, people panicked. Within a month they left the house. That’s why I’m laughing now. It’s been years since I laughed!”

Then Tony began again: “My favorite cereal was Granola. I always had it with milk for breakfast. Do you know why it was my favorite?”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because inside every box of Granola there was a separate packet containing tiny stone figurines of different animals. I had a whole box filled with them. Today, I give them all to you.”

I said, “But tell me, how did you disappear?”

Tony began: “Our cousins had come during the summer school vacation. My sister and I were playing hide-and-seek with them. I was terrible at hiding. No matter where I hid, they always found me first. Then I remembered there was a wooden chest in one corner of the basement. Mother kept winter clothes in it. I thought it would be the perfect hiding spot. No one would find me there.

“I stood on a stool, lifted the latch, and climbed inside. I pulled the lid down. It closed tight. It was pitch dark inside. The latch stuck. Time passed, but no one came looking. Some painters were working nearby. Two of them came over, chatting, and placed a heavy iron ladder right on top of the chest. I banged on the lid, terrified. I shouted and cried, but they didn’t understand and walked away. I sobbed until I fell asleep.

“When they couldn’t find me, the police were informed. Notices went out everywhere. Mother sat in my room all day and cried. After two months, my parents left for another town because the memories of me haunted them here. And I stayed behind, alone. Playing hide-and-seek, I hid so well that no one ever found me again.”

The picture of the little boy rose in my mind—such a helpless child! My heart overflowed with compassion for him. I rose from the desk and went down into the basement. I switched on the light. Cobwebs and dust everywhere. Of all creatures, I fear spiders the most. I brushed the cobwebs aside and came to the wooden chest in the corner. On top lay a heavy iron ladder. I pulled it down. The chest was latched from the outside. I struggled and finally opened it. As I lifted the wooden lid, I saw on the pile of clothes a tiny human skeleton. My head spun. Tony whispered, “Leave the lid open! Don’t close it!” I left it open, then buried my face in my pillow upstairs and wept bitterly.

By then my parents had woken up. Mother was at the breakfast table, calling me to eat. I washed my face and came. She was pouring tea for father. I sat down. In my bowl was cereal. I poured in milk. Father sat opposite me. I asked, “Dad, do they still sell Granola cereal?”

He replied, “Oh, that’s a cereal from a hundred years ago! A nutritionist named James Jackson created it in 1883. Now the Kellogg Company makes something similar under another name.”

When father started talking, he never stopped until the whole story was told. But I interrupted him, very serious now: “You don’t believe in ghosts? Come with me!”

I grabbed his hand and pulled him along. Mother followed us, curious and amused at our antics so early in the morning. We went down to the basement. I turned on the light. The chest was open. Pulling father closer, I announced: “Look, Dad!”

Both of them peered in. To my shock, they showed no surprise. Together they said, “There’s nothing here but some old clothes. The previous owners must have left them behind.”

I rushed forward and looked into the chest. Indeed, the skeleton was gone. Vanished!

 

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