The Society of Ghosts and Witches

The Society of  Ghosts and Witches

“Jerks!” Ian yelled at Billy.  Billy had just shoved him into the gutter, and Ian had missed being hit by a semi truck by inches.

“Wuss!” Ian yelled back, taking off down the street.

Ian went for a walk near the cemetery by his house.  They’re so lucky he thought to himself.  The dead don’t have to put up with creeps like Ian.

Ian was about to turn to go home when he notice a ramshackle house at the edge of the cemetery, by the swamp.  It looked like a stiff wind could blow it down.

Ian had never noticed that house before.  In all his trips through the cemetery, he couldn’t remember seeing it even once.

He decided to investigate.  As he got closer to the house, fog rose up off the water.  It was spooky, especially being as this was Halloween.

A woman in a witch’s costume was standing at the door.  She smiled when she saw Ian approach.

“Welcome to the Halloween House!” she said brightly.  “Come in, have some punch and make yourself at home!”

“Um, okay.  Thank you,” said Ian, unsure.

“Don’t be afraid, dear,” the witch smiled. 

The house inside was the completely the opposite of the outside.  It was on par with Buckingham Palace.  Ian had never seen such a place.  Spider webs hang from glorious chandeliers, the cups were fine china, the food looked as if it had been prepared for Queen Elizabeth herself.

“Welcome to the party, young man!” said a pale man behind Ian at the refreshment table.  He was so pale, he was almost transparent.

Almost as if….Ian thought then shook the thought out of his head.  He didn’t believe in ghosts, even on Halloween.

He just thanked the man politely and wandered through the party, taking in the opulence.  Some people were dressed as witches, others as ghosts.  The ghosts weren’t wearing sheets, they were just painted white.

“Attention!” the witch who’d greeted Ian at the door bellowed a while later.  “I want to welcome our newest member to the Society of Ghosts and Witches.  This is Ian.  He became a ghost this afternoon.”

“What!” Ian yelped, jumping out of his seat.  “A ghost? I’m not dead.”

Everyone laughed.  “I said the same thing, young man,” said the pale man who’d welcomed him to the party.  “Right before they showed me the whole in my middle. That was during the American Revolution.”

“I’m dead? How?” Ian asked, thunderstruck.  Then he remembered.  “The semi didn’t miss me, did it?”

“No, son,” the witch said gently.  “But there’s an important reason you have stayed here on Earth.  You are designated to prevent what happened to you from happening to anyone else.”

Ian digested this.  Then he smiled.  “I get to haunt Billy?”

“If that’s what you feel is necessary,” the witch answered.

Ian grinned.