Haunting and Scares Collection

by Rosemary Cullen

  “Yes, I’m not sure that’s true.” Judd shook his head. “I’ve never heard anyone talk too much about that and I don’t think it was ever proven.”

  “So, after all that, Dorothy took Donny and moved away, which is what I would’ve done in the first place... and nobody knows where they moved to.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me all this, Mom? Dad?” Stephanie looked back and forth between her parents.

  “Well, I have to admit, Stephanie,” Eloise answered, “it is indeed why your father and I were concerned about you buying that house. You seemed so set on it, we just didn’t think you could be talked out of it. Plus, you’re not superstitious. So, we talked about it and decided to just see how you liked it. We thought that maybe your youthful spirit and having three kids in the house would change things.”

  Stephanie struggled to contain her rage. She looked at her mother and father with contempt, trying to figure out some reason why they wouldn’t have told her all of this before now. Her mother was right. She didn’t believe in ghosts. That was a lousy reason to withhold the truth, though.

  With her nostrils flared, she thanked her mother for filling her in, gathered her children, and headed home. She’d heard enough. She feared she might say something disrespectful to her parents that she didn’t really mean. Stephanie remained silent on the car ride home, even though her children talked amongst themselves in the backseat.

  Upon pulling into the driveway on Primrose Drive, Stephanie noticed the trash was still piled up on the road in front of her house. She thought the trucks would have been there by now. Then, with a start, she realized that the rolled-up carpet was not leaning against the bags and boxes.

  Quickly, she turned the car off and rushed up the walkway. Timothy, Jane, and Jonathan hopped out of the backseat and followed their mother eagerly. They’d gotten a good look at her frantic face and her worried eyes.

  By the time the family got to the porch steps, Stephanie had been leaning against the banister. Timothy approached his mother’s side, sensing that she could very well faint and go tumbling back down to the walkway. There, like when Stephanie had gotten home from the job interview earlier in the day, the rug was once again rolled out in front of the door.

  “Why is this happening to us?” Stephanie sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks. “This just doesn’t make any sense! Why? How?”

  Stephanie gathered her questioning children, pulling them close to her, as they walked around the edges of the rug and headed inside. She slammed the door shut, locked it, and peeked out. The afternoon sun seemed to beam down just on the bloodstain, almost like a spotlight.

  Stephanie turned around, keeping her back to the door. With closed eyes, she learned how it truly felt to be defeated. How it felt to not have answers to questions. She knew her children, who were still standing in the foyer, wanted to know what was going on. She had no answers for them. Stephanie felt as if she just couldn’t face fighting this situation another day.

  Chapter 9

  Peaceful sleep was quickly becoming a thing of the past for Stephanie. She woke up the next morning tired and troubled yet determined to figure things out. Moving out of this house, of course, had been on her mind. This simply wasn’t a realistic option.

  After lying in her bed for several minutes, looking at the sun rising over the hills and seeming to encourage her, she realized just what she’d become in Moorestown. She felt like the naïve town sucker. The dumb buyer who finally took the haunted house off of the market.

  “The locals didn’t even want this house,” Stephanie murmured to herself. “I should’ve known there was some reason a house like this would be on the market for so long in a desirable place. And the price. Why didn’t I realize it was too good to be true? I should’ve known.” Stephanie’s investigative intuition kicked in to pair up with her determination.

  While Stephanie made pancakes for the children, having finally pulled herself out of the bed to face another day in her haunted new home, she heard a noise on the back porch. Finally, she thought, I might catch whoever is doing all this crazy stuff.

  “That’s it,” she said, slamming her spatula down on the counter. “I’m going to see who this is.”

  Stephanie rushed to the back door, pulled it open, then jumped out onto the back porch. There, in the morning sunlight, she saw a man stumbling to get away.

  Just as she headed down the steps, she saw him fall and get up to try to make a run for it. That gave her the advantage.

  “Stop!” Stephanie yelled. “Stop!” Much to her surprise, the man stopped. “Turn around!” she then yelled. Again, the man did just what she asked of him.

  Appearing to be in his late fifties, the man faced her. His disheveled appearance spoke volumes. His facial expression told Stephanie he was lost, if not confused. Is this guy homeless? Even if he is, I didn’t think Moorestown was the sort of town for a homeless community.

  Stephanie walked across her yard and got closer to the man, albeit cautiously. “What is your name?” she asked.

  The man paused then responded. “Donny.”

  Stephanie’s eyes widened as she thought back to the conversation she’d had with her mother and father. “Billington?” she asked.

  The man simply nodded, confirming that he was indeed Donny Billington. Stephanie looked him up and down, unsure of what to say or do next. This was certainly the strangest thing to have happened ever in her life.

  How in the world would the little boy whose mother was killed in this very house suddenly pop up, as a much older man, in the back yard? Why would he even be here all these years later?

  Stephanie wondered if he was a danger to not only herself but also her children. The two of them stood there for a few moments staring at one another, both speechless, but each for their own reason.

  “Did you put the rug on the porch?” Stephanie asked on a hunch.

  Donny nodded his head. “Yeah, I did.”

  “Why?” Stephanie asked. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because my mama loved it. I didn’t want it to get thrown away.”

  Stephanie nodded, trying to be understanding, even though there was really no excuse for what this man had done at this point in his life. On another hunch, she kept the conversation going. “Why were you looking in the windows?”

  Donny held his hands up in a passive way. “I just wanted to see what you all were doing,” he answered. “I miss living in the house. Always have. I liked living in this house even better than any other house I went to after I was with my grandmother.”

  Stephanie nodded, still not understanding how in the world this man could’ve held on to this for all this time. She was a little fuzzy on the timeline of things, but she knew whatever happened here with this man’s mother had to have happened at least five decades ago. “I see,” she said. “That’s... interesting.”

  “I like your dog, too,” Donny said. “When you all have him outside for a long time, I take him for walks. When I throw sticks he chases them.” He smiled. “I wish I had a dog.”

  Pieces fell into place for Stephanie as she stood across from Donny. He’d been the one to look into the windows and then make a run for it. The night Scout came up missing, he’d taken him and walked him. The feeling she got that someone was watching them all had come from him. The rug incident, which made her feel crazy in every way, was now explained, even if Donny’s actions didn't quite make sense.

  Still, though, Stephanie was coming to realize there was no way Donny Billington could’ve gotten into their house. Scout hadn’t been let out, the day he’d come up missing. As a matter of fact, Stephanie still wondered how the dog had gotten back inside the morning he came scratching at her door.

  Then, of course, the very first incident was totally unexplainable. How was the dishwasher opened after she specifically remembered closing it? What about the kitchen lights that same night? And there was no way Donny had slipped into the back yard while she’d been gardening and moved her shovel.r />
  Stephanie looked the disheveled, possibly ill man up and down. Some questions were answered yet very important and even more disturbing ones were not. The uneasy feeling rattled in Stephanie’s soul as a warm breeze rolled by. The leaves on the trees rustled like a chilling ensemble of haunted snickers.

  Chapter 10

  Stephanie stood out in the back yard for several more minutes talking to Donny. In fact, the longer they talked, the more she warmed up to him, even if she was trying to hide her anxiety about him being there in the first place.

  Finally, as the sun had come out and gotten a little too hot for the morning, she invited him inside. Donny, nodding his head graciously, accepted the invitation. If nothing else, he could see how the inside of the house where he’d grown up had changed, if it had even changed at all.

  Donny sat at the dining room table, running his fingers along the top. He commented about how his table had been in the same spot and was the same size when he was a kid. Stephanie listened from the kitchen as she finished preparing the pancakes and the rest of breakfast. She put a few on the plate, as well as sausage links and eggs, then took it into the dining room, placing it on the table in front of him.

  All the while she listened to him comment about the changes in the house’s interior, she kept thinking that this man looked as if he could use a good meal. She was thankful she had enough to share with him.

  Stephanie sat at the end of the table as she talked with Donny, asking him where he’d gone after Moorestown, why he came back, and even if he still knew anyone in town. She wanted to ask what happened with his father but didn’t want to be rude.

  All the while the two talked at the dining room table, they’d both been unaware of listening ears nearby. Sitting at the bottom of the staircase, Timothy listened. He’d been in the bathroom upstairs when he heard his mother shout, prompting him to look out into the back yard and see what was going on. He watched his mother talk to someone he didn’t know and had never seen before. And he also watched her walk the man inside. He then inched down the steps, walking on the balls of his feet to be as quiet as possible, and sat down on the bottom step. The eleven-year-old listened with keen ears, soaking in every question his mother threw the man’s way, and every answer the man gave in return.

  “When I lived here with my grandmother,” Donny Billington said, “my mom visited all the time. I liked it. I felt close to her.”

  Stephanie’s face scrunched up as she tried to make sense of what Donny said. “What was that, Donny? What do you mean exactly?”

  “My mother,” Donny said, then smiled. He lifted a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth then answered. “She would come visit when I was here with my grandmother.” He chuckled. “Mom always liked the lights to be on in the house. She didn’t like the dark.”

  “Oh,” Stephanie said. “Is that right?”

  Stephanie recalled just last night when she’d gotten home from her parents’ house. She’d been lying in bed, having a hard time falling to sleep, when she pulled her phone out and got online. She was looking for what was published in regards to Jeannette Billington’s murder. She’d learned quite a bit that was coming in handy now.

  Dorothy Palmer didn’t come to live her with her grandson until after the death of his mother. She wouldn’t have been visiting the house when Donny lived here with his grandmother. It all wasn’t making any sense.

  “Donny,” Stephanie began, making sure to keep her voice light, “how would you have known your mother was here if you couldn’t see her?” She wanted to say more but stopped right there. She didn’t even believe what she was asking, but she had to see Donny’s reaction.

  “She gave signs,” Donny said. “My mother always gave signs that she was here. I always knew.”

  Stephanie nodded, trying to keep a straight face and keep him talking.

  “Yeah, she always gave signs,” Donny said. “She’d always put my teddy bear on the dresser when I would leave it somewhere else. She would move things around, out of the way and to where they really belonged.” He laughed. “One time my grandmother was using some tools in the yard. Mother moved them up onto the back porch. My mother used to always nag my father about leaving the tools out in the yard. She hated it, really. Then, she would open my drawers so I could get my socks out every morning. I think she was being sweet. She took good care of me when I was little.” He shook his head a little and took another bite of pancakes. His expressions going from happy to sad as the memories flooded over him.

  Never for a day in her life did Stephanie believe in ghosts... until now. As she listened to Donny speak, she thought seriously about the possibility that Jeannette Billington’s ghost had been watching over Donny since she was coldly murdered by his father.

  From the sounds of it, her spirit—her ghost—did whatever it had to do to let the little boy know that no matter what, in life and in death, she would be there for him and make sure that her presence was known to him. Stephanie also figured that when Donny left this house to go live with his grandmother elsewhere, Jeannette’s ghost must have stayed here.

  As crazy as it sounded, Stephanie believed it. Now, as she looked around the house with questioning eyes, other thoughts came to mind. She’d never expected to think about this kind of situation, but here she was in the middle of a ghost story.

  She took out her phone and did a quick Google search while Donny concentrated on his breakfast. When she got what she needed, she looked over at Donny and smiled.

  “Donny, can I ask you something?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Can we talk to your mom and tell her it’s okay for her to leave? Help her find peace?”

  Stephanie knew she needed to say something endearing to the man, even if only for his sake. “It’s interesting you bring all of this up because I truly did feel her presence, the presence of a woman. But, well, I just didn’t know how to speak to her.”

  Donny smiled and nodded, agreeing. “I don’t know why she’s stayed here so long.”

  “She was waiting for you, Donny,” Stephanie said, reaching over and rubbing the man’s shoulder. “She was waiting for you to come back. And it all makes sense now.”

  He nodded and smiled. “Maybe so. She did love me, you know.”

  “I know. So, do you want to speak to her now?”

  He nodded and took a deep breath.

  Just as Donny was about to speak to his mother, Timothy came walking around the corner. He paused and looked at the man at the table with questioning eyes.

  “Timothy,” Stephanie said. “This is Mr. Donny. He lived here when he was a kid.” She looked into Donny’s eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t start talking about how and why he left the house. “And Donny, this is my son Timothy.”

  Timothy shook Donny’s hand and then looked at his mother. “Mom, is there a ghost here? I heard what you all were saying and I just want to know the truth.”

  Stephanie hesitated before answering. “Son, yes,” she finally said. “There is. She—the ghost—is Donny’s mother. And we were just about to ask her to leave the house.”

  “She’s a nice ghost, though. She won’t hurt you.” Donny looked at Timothy and smiled. The shine in his eyes made it clear he wanted to comfort Timothy while defending his mother’s reputation.

  Timothy climbed into a chair next to Donny. “I could tell that. I knew she wouldn’t hurt us, but she did scare us a little bit.”

  That admission made them all laugh. With the tension broken, all that was left was for Donny to talk to his mother.

  “Mother, I’m so glad you stayed here waiting for me. You knew I’d come back, I guess.” Donny smiled and looked up at the ceiling. “When I lived here with Grandma, it was good that you were close. I still needed you. I missed you so much. I still do, but it is different now. I’m grown up. And I don’t live here anymore. I’m just visiting today.”

  Donny looked at Stephanie and Timothy and smiled. He looked down at his plate of pancakes and took
another bite.

  “And Mother, you don’t have to be here anymore, either,” Donny finished up by saying. “There’s somebody else here now. Another family. They’re really nice, too. And I know you’d like Miss Stephanie and she would like you. I just know it.”

  Stephanie teared up at Donny’s sweet words. Just as she was about to thank him for what he’d said, a strong wind rattled all the windows in the house. The thick cloud that had gathered over the house seemed to speed up, allowing sunshine to reach down and into the dining room. Stephanie looked around, finally feeling like the home she’d hoped would be a fresh start for her and her child could be just that—a fresh start.

  As Donny continued eating his pancakes, the twins came down. Stephanie introduced them to the former resident and then made their plates. Soon enough, Donny, Stephanie, and her three children sat around the dining room table. They talked with the man as if they’d known him their entire lives.

  “Donny,” Stephanie said, “you’re welcome in our home anytime. And I really do mean that.”

  Donny thanked her and nodded.

  “But you don’t have to peek in the window, though. You can knock on the door. Always let us know when you’re here because we’ll want to see you. And I’ll do you one better. I’ll keep the rug in the basement, just for you.” Pushing the last sentence out of her mouth was harder than she’d thought it would be, but she felt she needed to make some kind of gesture to the man.

  When Donny finished with his breakfast, Stephanie let him out the back door and saw him off. There she stood, at the door window, watching as the disheveled man walked into the distance. It wasn’t long before he walked into the woods and disappeared.

  She turned away and walked into the dining room and sat back down at the table, knowing she had some explaining to do with the twins. Timothy remained silent, letting his mother tell the story.