Romans & histoires Ghost Stories To Tell At A Sleepover

"With time, we'll get used to them." When we got home, I told Mom the stories the gas man had shared, but she shrugged it off. "It's just a harmless superstition, baby. Nothing is happening here. Can't you see? This place is amazing." Well, I guess she was right. But the way the townspeople told the stories, with wide eyes, and hushed tones.... it made it feel like more, than just bedtime stories. But despite all that... I never believed in monsters. Ghosts? Maybe. Witches? Of course. But vampires and werewolves? Please.... what a laugh. I may have a flair for the dramatic, but I had my limits.

I questioned. “It happened thrice. Once with one of our roommates. Alice went to the bathroom that night, the next morning she was found lying before the bathroom door unconscious. After that she got really sick and didn’t even utter a word. Maybe they got her out of here. Everyone says that an evil spirit lingers around the halls yearning for souls. I know that's not true.” "How do you know that?" I asked. "Ghosts are not real dummy," she rejoined. That didn't frighten me. But I was worried about Abigail. She was fragile. Even though mom and dad had told us that ghosts and spirit stories were fictional and irrational, now that they weren’t with us, I was scared for my little sister.

Despite the late hour, there was an air of tranquility in the room, a sense of peace that settled over us like a comforting blanket. "So, sweetie," I began, breaking the quietude with a gentle tone, "how was your day at school?" She paused, considering her answer between bites of ice cream. "It was okay, Mom. But... something happened." My heart skipped a beat at the hint of concern in her voice. "What happened, honey? You can tell me." She hesitated for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought. "Well, during recess, some of the older kids were teasing me. They said there was a ghost in the old gymnasium of our packhouse, and they dared me to go inside."

"I've just heard stories about it from the other kids in the neighborhood." "What kind of stories?" I asked. "Well, some of them say that it's haunted," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "They say that strange things happen there at night, and that sometimes you can see a ghostly figure in one of the windows." I raised an eyebrow. "Do you believe in ghosts, Jayden?" He shook his head. "No, not really. But the stories still scare me." I could understand why. Even as a grown man, the idea of a haunted house gave me chills. But I had a feeling there was more to the story than just spooky tales.

After a while she could hear his footsteps approaching towards the door. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he snorted. "I can't sleep in my room! I'm scared, Trevor! I feel uncomfortable seeing the size of the room and the bed! And while I was lying down in bed, I imagined that a ghost would be sleeping next to me.” She explained while her voice slightly trembling. Trevor laughed a lot after hearing what she had said. "Crazy! How can there be ghosts in this house? And the ghost is not real!"

I had no choice, so I dug through every gift Zoe had ever given me, but I found nothing. Just when I was about to give up, I shook a pillow, and a tiny paper figure floated out. Its face was drawn to resemble Lucas, and his birth details were written on the back! The fortune teller exclaimed, “That’s it! The lock and the paper figure work together, and since you've touched the lock, the effect on you is stronger. Luckily, you found it early.” I broke out in a cold sweat. That same day, I slipped the paper figure under Miles’ pillow and instructed my parents to watch him while he slept.

I told them about the freezing winters in my small village, the cozy warmth of my little house, the big barrels of pickled vegetables, the lively feasts during the New Year, and the daily gossip of neighbors… I even talked about how I scrimped and saved to send my adopted boy to school, watched him get married, and dreamed of holding my grandkids someday… It was nothing thrilling, just the ordinary ups and downs of life. The ghosts were mesmerized. Chloe forgot the cold and snuggled closer. The hungry little boy forgot his hunger and propped his chin up on his hands. The poltergeist stopped being grumpy, quietly squatting in a corner. Even the banshee forgot to cry. There was a glimmer of ho

She asked before launching herself into Chloe's arms making her grunt. Later that night, after Chloe was put to sleep in mine and Grant's room and the girls had all set up sleeping bags, which made me chuckle. When I asked what was going on, I got told we were having a proper sleep over, adults or not. Chloe even promised a ghost story or two. It felt nice, I hadn't even had this chance when I was in school. Chloe and Ingrid were already fast asleep. Clair came and sat in the chair next to me. "How are you feeling?" She asked quietly.

“My cousin says she went into his room last night when he was half gone. Came out without a scratch.” Their gazes darted to me. They shut their mouths with audible clicks. “Luna,” the braver one said, cheeks flushing. “Good morning,” I said, trying for mild amusement. “Don’t let me interrupt your ghost stories.” They exchanged a mortified look. “We weren’t—” the second stammered. “It’s all right,” I said. “I would talk about it too, if I were you. Just remember rumors grow teeth when you feed them.”

“There’s no bathroom! I was lying.” “Mia! You’re way too evil!” “Thank god… I wasn’t scared,” someone muttered stiffly. “How about we tell ghost stories?” Goselle suddenly suggested. “One person, one story—how does that sound?” Dwyn immediately chimed in. “Sure. I’ll go first. I’ll tell you a ghost story from when I was filming in Aeriflux.” The moment everyone heard it happened overseas, they visibly relaxed. For some reason, as long as it wasn’t a story that happened domestically, it just felt less scary.