Haunted House Masterlist
A fun little idea thatâs very quickly written. Apologies for mistakes, I should be sleeping but brain wouldnât allow.
Your alarm is blaring. Itâs loud and obnoxious and screams for you to wake. You donât want to but you have to âseize the dayâ as one would say. You turn to your side and hit snooze though, shutting it up and deciding that five more minutes wonât hurt. You had such a wonderful dream that you want to get back to it. It was about you being rich and never having to work another day in your life.
âYer gonna be late again for work, lass.â
Your eyes pop open as you scream, balling your fist and punching the man that lays down on your bed. Your fist phases right on through though and he laughs so loudly that you wished you could actually hit him.
âAh, ouch, lass. That hurt.â He feigns pain, rubbing his face and he grins like the Cheshire Cat itself.
âJohnny,â you rub your temples. Your want for sleeping in is fleeting, âhow many times do I have to tell you. The beds off limits.â Glaring at your ghostly companion.
âYe said, Johnny, make sure I stay awake even when my alarm goes off,â he mimics your voice horribly, really laying on an abnormally high pitch to make you wish you couldnât hear. He places a hand against his cheek and the other comes around to tap your forehead. You shiver when you can feel the cool sensation, youâve never gotten used to that. âSânot my fault ye keep sleepinâ in.â
âYeah, yeah,â flinching when your alarm goes off once more. You groan even louder than before as you turn the alarm off. You sit and rub your face till it hurts. âAlright,â you feel his hand pressing and nudging on your back. You swipe at him like a hissing cat and tumble off your welcoming, warm bed. He laughs and lays still as you move around sluggishly. You walk out of your room even when you can hear your bed weeping for you and head to your kitchen.
Grabbing a tea bag, a mug, and pouring water from the sink in it before placing it in the microwave. Pressing the buttons and you watch the light flicker on the mug spinning slowly. Thereâs a growing heavy weight against your back, it press well against your shoulder and even when you try to shove him away. He doesnât budge, a mountain of cold, hard steel that doesnât move even when you say his name. âSimon,â you whine, trying to push him away but alas, your hands phase through him just like it did with Johnny.
âYou need a kettle,â he says with so much disappointment in his brown eyes. Thereâs an atrocity happening before him, actually itâs happened many times. Youâve flat out refused to even boil the water on at least a pot. âI feel like Iâm dying again just watching this.â He leans ever more and youâre damn near fused to your counter.
âOkay, okay,â the microwave beeps and you open it to grab your mug. Wincing and trying to hold the hot ceramic handle without it peeling your skin off. âIâll buy a kettle this time around.â You say as you have many times over, âcan you move? Please?â You hear him sigh like heâs suffering and he leaves. Disappears off into the nether and probably wonât come back until you pour him a glass of his favorite whiskey as an apology. âFucking Britâs.â Grumbling your annoyance as you dump your sugar and stir it in the cooling liquid. Not even bothering to blow as you drink it. You donât really get the difference but somehow itâs always an offense when Simon sees you do that.
âHeâs right,â John sits on your recliner. A cigar in hand and even though heâs as ghostly as the others he manages to find a way to smoke in your house. âThatâs no way to drink a tea.â Of course heâd jump in on this, though you think he might only do that just to get a rise out of you.
âBuy me a kettle and make me a tea.â Holding the mug against your face. Drinking it defiantly and Kyle comes through a wall as quickly as you say that.
âYou banned us from making drinks or food.â Holding a finger out as he nods in making his point. John grunts in agreement, smoke somehow puffing around in swirls.
âFor good reason, Kyle.â The last time they tried to do anything it was a mess. And not in the incompetent way but more in the paranormal why is everything floating kinda way. âThere was tomato sauce splattered on my ceiling! The ceiling,â placing your mug down on the counter. âI had to get a ladder to clean it.â
âDidnae ken that would happen when I touched the damn thing.â You hear Johnny somewhere in the room but have yet to spot him. Probably hovering in a dark spot as usual when he plans on scaring you by grabbing you. He seems miffed about the incident since heâs the main reason why theyâre all banned. âYe were sick at the time. We just wanted to help.â
That makes you feel a little guilty. Your ghosts do try to help around as much as they can but sometimes their paranormalness doesnât always work well in your house nor around objects. So far theyâve been able to touch you with no problem but with other things though⌠somtimes they will float or get weird with the temperature, your hairbrush has been freezing cold here lately⌠one of them probably snooped around your bathroom again. Youâve gotten as used to your roommates as best as you can. Your ability allows you to see and hear hem as clear as day while others canât. Itâs a blessing and a curse with your wonderful little ability despite the learning curve.
The curve being that thereâs ghosts in your house.
âAh, shit,â Kyle pulls you from your thoughts. âYou need to hurry, youâre gonna be running late again.â Kyle, ever the one to keep you on your goals quickly points that out as he looks at the time.
âOh, son of a bitch!â You fly down the hall back to your room to get dressed. Forgoing buying breakfast on the way even when John yells for you to do so. You hobble to get your shoes on and nearly roll out your door to get to your car. Not even bothering to lock your house since your ghostly apparitions wonât allow an intruder to do harm. You slam your foot on the gas after reversing and drive off to your job. Blasting music down the road to get your mood right for the next eight hours.














