Novel & Cerita Ghost Wife

Adam lamented. “I’m just wondering if maybe we should get him inside and bolt the door. This might not be the safest place for him after all. She’s getting a might closer and some of those zombie spirits look like they’re coming back to life in a not too friendly way.” He studied the spirits who were once so animated but were now acting dazed and confused. A few of them were losing that dazed look. It was being replaced by one of intelligence and… Anger? Hate? He couldn’t tell.

"We work at the Gray Lodge. Well, used to. We got fired." "We're sorry we lied," Zel added. "We just need to know more. Can you help us?" The old woman sighed. "It's somewhat of a long story but, I can tell you what happened to his wife. You might want to grab a seat. It's not a happy story as you already know. She told us about Mr. Grayson's family. About how his wife had died mysteriously. Their child had also disappeared shortly after. Rumors had it that he had something to do with their disappearance and the lodge has been haunted since then.

Unknown POV I got married to Lisa since it has been Lia's wish to make Lisa her mother, but life has been empty after losing Lia. It started with nightmares. I would see Lia in my nightmares, trying to communicate with me but I wouldn't understand a thing. Sleepless nights followed, and every day was a nightmare. Lia would appear to me but she was more like a ghost, she wouldn't move nor talk. She stared at me while I cry at night feeling guilty for having her murdered by an unloyal friend Lora's ghost has been missing for days and that worries me a lot. I stared at the ceiling as the birds chirped good morning and the sunlight beamed through the curtains.

He retired about five years ago, letting his sons manage his company. “What does he want with Benny?” “That’s why Rain paid Amanda a visit.” Ghost shrugged; his tone was calm. “We have to do this the old way. This guy was squeaky clean. He paid his taxes to the last dime, not even a parking ticket.” “Squeaky clean,” I huffed, sliding my phone back into my jeans pocket. “Too fucking clean.” I pursed my lips. “What about the wife? How did she die?” Ghost checked his phone. “Boat accident fifteen years ago.”

I was gone, and it wasn't as though they could speak ill of me now, not while my body was being buried in the ground. Even my mother-in-law came. She was already a frail, tiny woman, but seeing her there made her appear decades older. Grayson knelt before my gravestone, convinced he was performing some act of atonement. But to me, his presence was nothing more than repulsive. After the funeral, he returned to the small apartment. Alice, starved for three days, lay there, barely clinging to life. The moment she saw Grayson, fear overtook her—a fear she couldn't hide.

a warning voice, that's what I heard. The voice sounds familiar. I don't want to believe my guess is right. Behind me, that's where I turn my direction to. Behold, my late wife. How's that possible? But she's dead! Ghost? I don't believe in that myth A hallucination? Perhaps, it might be.

His dead body was laid on the floor covered with a white sheet with people surrounding him and a woman over his chest as she wept like a woman who is sincerely in vain at his departure. While me. I sat out of all those people away from the body leaning back to the pillar with my legs cuddled to my chest, my hands around my legs as I looked at her with zero expression as the tear strains on my cheeks itched. I'm outcasted from his people while I'm his wife. I don't understand anything. I was married just yesterday and I became a widow today. And no one came to console me but strangely three women who are his mother, aunt, and sister were consoling that particular woman while I am staring at t

I said before ending the call without giving her a chance to speak. Then, I pulled up her contact to blacklist her number. When I checked WhatsApp, I found that she'd sent me dozens of messages. The first ones in the morning were questions about the wedding. When she later found out I was gone, she kept asking where I was. Just today alone, she sent me more texts than she had in the past month. After skimming through them, I blacklisted her number. Then, I set my phone aside and went back to sleep.

“You might be.” “Then I guess you’ll have to learn to live with ghosts.” He looked away, gold eyes dimming. “I already do.” ⸻ That afternoon, the staff avoided me even more than usual. Gaya didn’t meet my eyes. Leina kept glancing at the bruises around Malrik’s wrist when she passed the room. The whispers had started again—quiet, quick, half-believed rumors about curses and souls and a wife who looked like a woman who died too long ago.

He muttered and smiled a sad one before walking out of the room; then, I went close to my body to look at it intently. "I felt his touch. I felt my father's hand holding mine!" I let out when I noticed the four ghosts who just passed through the wall on my right. They must have seen my father walking into my room. One of my new ghost friends is Ericka, who got here three weeks ago because of a motorbike accident, and Lucinda, a middle-aged woman who got a heart attack a month ago. "Really?" Clinton asked in surprise and examined my physical body closely, and Dylan tried to touch my left barefoot.