Final Homecoming

Marsha peeked out her front window from behind the curtains. That house across the street, the one that had been empty for months, empty since the murders, empty save the memory of its recent history of gruesome events, that house was now suddenly occupied.

One day nothing, the next evening there were lights casting busy silhouettes onto the shades. Somehow, new neighbors had moved in without being noticed. This was no small feat with nosey Marsha quietly following every nuance of activity for a block in each direction. She observed it all from her lookout position in the overworked garden along the front walk. At ninety years of age, her mind remained sharp, her eyesight keen.

Days went by and while the activity across the street remained high, of the new neighbors there was not so much as a fleeting glance. Lights went on. Lights went off. Voices and music were heard often rising to the point of a gala celebration. Yet no one came; no one left.

Marsha called the police to report the activity. They found an empty house with no sign that anyone had been there for months.

Just as she suspected – ghosts! It must be the Johnson family coming back to haunt their old house.

Night after night it went on. Such shameful behavior for the dead she thought, I wonder what they are up to over there.

Eventually, her curiosity drove her. One evening, without forethought, she found herself on the front porch ringing the bell.

“Marsha! We are so glad you finally came over to see us. We have been waiting for you.”

She instantly recognized the greeter. Her husband Ed had died back in 1985. He hadn’t aged a day since then. Inside, the rest of the family waited to greet her … and take her home.

Word count 300