Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Oct 14, 2021

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2021 #17

 My son was tremendously lost after the death of his mother.

It left a big gaping hole in his life, and he didn't know what to do with himself. She was his everything. She was there for him whenever he needed her. She was always there, even for something as little as a friendly ear or a tiny bit of information. But, unfortunately, over the months, Matthew became withdrawn and aloof. Everything became a routine that had no meaning or fulfillment. Although he dressed impeccably, something was missing from his overall makeup, sort of like an emptiness seeping into his daily life. Then one day, without any kind of sign or hint of what brought about a change in his personality, he was chipper, bright, and engaging. So it was the whole night and day. "What happened?" I asked him one morning at breakfast. "You're more than back to your old self?"

"It was time to get out of that rut," he said with a mouth full of cereal. "Best to move on and move forward."

"Like mom used to say," I concluded.

"Like mom used to say," he agreed.

Each day appeared to have brought the light back into his life and in his eyes. Soon, he got himself a cell phone, and shortly after that, he must have met someone because most of his time was spent on that phone, cooing, laughing heartily, and lowering his voice in my presence. I was happy that Matthew was finally happy. I had come home very late one evening after spending it with our friends, reminiscing old times. They missed Madeline terribly, and it goes without sharing that the night did not end without a few tears here and there. Finally, I made it home in one piece even though I'd thrown back a few hard shots of Scottish whiskey. I noticed a strange glowing light under Matthew's door. In my inebriated state, there was something about that light that bothered me. I opened his door slowly and saw Matthew sitting in front of an Ouija board with several lit candles around him. Within the confines of the configuration of candles stood Madeline's apparition, having an entire conversation as if she had never been killed in that car accident. "Jump off the roof of the house," she said. "Hang yourself from the lanai, or cut your wrists, be creative," Madeline's ghost encouraged him. "Whichever way you choose, you'll be able to join me in the end."

Without hesitation, I stepped forward and dashed the candles aside, hot wax flying everywhere. Next, I grabbed the Ouija board and broke it in half. When Matt tried to stop me, yelling and swearing at me and calling me a mutherfucking son-of-a-bitch, I gave him a stinging slap across his face and knocked him to the floor. Then, with the apparition gone, the smell of sulfur lingered in the air. I picked my son up by the scruff of his collar and dragged him downstairs to the living room, and we had it out. He missed his mother desperately, and just out of the blue, it occurred to him to get an Ouija board so that he could communicate with her. Immediately, his mother responded, and as the conversations went on, Matthew claimed that through the ouija, his mother told him to buy a cell phone so that she could call him. In those conversations, it was alleged that Madeline instructed him to use blood candles when he summoned her through the ouija. She promised that she would appear to him, and tell him how he could join her on the other side. "And that was by finding various ways to kill yourself?" I asked him mockingly. Matthew had no response. "The last thing your mother would want is for you to harm yourself in any way, shape, or form! Whatever that thing was that you summoned? That was not your mother, just something that fooled you into thinking it was so that it could take your soul!" When the realization of what I said was true, it hit Matthew like a ton of bricks, and he broke down and cried. It was the cry he needed to have to finally reconcile with his mother's death.


A month later and Matthew was back to his old self, happy-go-lucky and bright. I served up some good old Raisin Bran for breakfast which he had not had in a while. Matthew dove in and asked for seconds once he was done. I slid the milk across the table and watched as he indulged himself. "Thanks for saving me from that evil thing, by the way, Dad."

"That was only one form of evil, Matthew," I replied. "There are several other kinds."

"What kinds?" He was curious.

"Humankind is the worst," I confirmed. "The very worst, no alleged demonic force can top the evil of humankind."

"Shit," Matthew shook his head. A second later, his entire body went limp, and his head crashed into his cereal bowl with a huge thud. His body slid off the chair and hit the linoleum hard. The demon that disguised itself as his mother failed miserably because of the length of time it took to possess his soul. Me? I work quickly. I don't fuck around. I took possession of Mattew's father at his wife's services while his soul lay in the depths of its grief. Gotta be economical. 

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