Read The Ghost of Oak Online

Authors: Fallon Sousa

Tags: #girl, #children, #child, #witchcraft, #witch, #story, #ghost, #haunted house, #creepy, #spooky, #ghost story, #scary, #haunted, #jewelry, #rhode island, #jewelery, #graverobbing, #locket

The Ghost of Oak (2 page)

       
Earlier that year, they promised each other that they would
never be popular, try to be popular, act popular, or even look
popular. Trying to talk like a teenager was against their rules,
because popular girls tried to sound older than what they really
were. Regardless of the fact that they had just broken their rules
of friendship, Jasmine and Katie were glad to see each other at the
end of the day, after a long day of not having all the same
classes. Lucky for them, the kids at White Elementary got an extra
recess at the end of the day, which allowed them extra playtime
that they could use up chatting with friends, or running around the
playground before they had to walk home, or get a ride from their
parents.

        
After the 3:00 bell, Katie and Jazz stormed out of the
school, and into the playground. They thought that they would be
safe for the time being, but Hank Crawford, a fifth grade bully,
came up and started teasing Katie.

       
"So, have you seen any monsters under your bed, yet, Katie?"
The bully chuckled. It wasn't long before Jasmine stepped in,
though. She got up and shook her fists at Hank in a threatening
sort of way. He instantly backed off.

         
Unfortunately for Katie, Jazz's mom came driving
by along with other parents who drove their kids to and from
school. Mrs. Thomas walked up to her daughter and urged for her to
get into the car.

        
"You don't want to go home late on the last day of fourth
grade, do you?" She asked. Katie had completely forgotten! She had
forgotten that it was the last day of fourth grade! How could she?
Only she would do such a foolish thing as that. Katie didn't want
her mom to get worried, so she decided that she'd better get
started home, after all it was a pretty long walk to her house. She
started home slowly, though, stopping to carefully peer at her
surroundings before moving on.

 

          
About halfway through her walk home, she stopped
to rest on a park bench. Katie lived on 1534 Oak Street. She did
not know much about her house, or why her family lived there. Just
the story her father had told her. He said that he and Mrs. Smith
had grown up in Wisconsin. They had met and fallen in love in high
school, and they attended the same college in New York City. But,
after college, they got married, and about a year later they found
out that Katie was on the way. They didn't want their child to grow
up in a busy city, so they thought about going back to Wisconsin,
but they went on a trip to Little Compton, and they instantly fell
in love with the town, especially Oak Street. At the time there was
only one house for sale, and even though the former owner was rich,
the price was low, because the house was old and
abandoned.

      
None of the elderly homeowners that inhabited the
other homes on that street wanted to give up their house any time
soon, so the Smiths just bought and fixed up that one. Katie took
in a breath of fresh New England air, and looked at the world
around her. Everything was so peaceful and serene. The sky was a
lively shade of blue, and she could smell the well-kept green
grass. It was a beautiful summer day. Katie wished that she could
stay and watch nature unfold, but she had to get home before her
mother grew worried, so she continued on her walk home. She could
feel the heat on her arms as she crossed on to the next street, and
it was nice. She stared at the crumbling sidewalk as she walked.
Then, she looked up and realized that the local cemetery was
several yards away from where she stood. She took a deep breath.
She knew that it was silly to be afraid of a grave yard, and that
she would have to get over it and finish walking home as she did
every other afternoon, and besides she wouldn't have to go by this
way again for the next few months.

        
Luckily for her, there was a shortcut from her house to White
Elementary, and she walked to school that way in the mornings, so
she would not be late for school, but her mother insisted that she
take the long way home, so that she could get some exercise and
enjoy the fresh air. Katie had complained of her feet hurting many
times in order to get out of going the long way (She didn't want to
get into her childish fears with her mother.) ,but Mrs. Smith
didn't fallfor the trick. Slowly and carefully, she took her
first-next step. Then, she took more small steps. She was about to
pass up the cemetery, when she noticed something shimmering under a
small pile of grit by the cemetery fence. She knelt down beside the
strange object and brushed away some of the grit. The object
appeared to be some sort of necklace. Katie took a closer look at
the object.

        
It was a locket, and it appeared to be a gold heart with an
American eagle in the center. It looked as if it had once belonged
to someone rich, but it also looked very old, as if whoever owned
it had bought it secondhand. Actually, it looked like it was way
older than any antique that Katie had ever seen. It was probably
something had been crafted in the 1600's at the very least. Though
beautiful, it looked as if had seen hundreds of thousands of better
days. Katie thought however that if she took it and cleaned it up
like new, that maybe it would be worth money. If it was, she could
sell it and buythe expensive bike that she wanted. Or, she could
just keep it. Having a piece of jewelry like that was probably
worth using her old bike. She would have to see about that, but one
thing was for sure. She was taking it home with her. So, hesitantly
and careful not to break it, Katie picked up the locket. Then, she
happily skipped the rest of the way home. If only she knew what she
was getting herself into by taking the locket
home.

 

 
Chapter
Two

 
Young Katie
Smith got home several minutes later, to find her mother awaiting
her arrival by the front door.

      
"What took you so long?" replied Mrs. Smith in an
extremely discontented sort of way.

       
Katie stood there, dumbfounded. She didn't understand just
how to explain the situation to her mother. However, she took the
courage to take a deep breath and say: "This." She pulled the
necklace out of her pocket and showed the "loot" to her
mother.

      
    
Mrs. Smith examined the
locket in her daughter's hand closely with an occasional frown or
puzzled expression. "Where did you find this?" she asked, throwing
yet another question at her daughter. Katie explained to her mother
how she had come across the locket under the tiny pile of grit by
the cemetery gates. Mrs. Smith agreed with Katie on the fact that
the fancy locket was definitely worth loads of
cash.

      
"Do we have to sell it, Mom? It is very pretty,
and I'd sort of like to keep it", Supplicated
Katie.

      
"Well, O.k., she said after a long period of
hesitation. I suppose that there isn't really any harm in keeping
it. All I have to say is that if you ever find out that someone is
looking for a locket like that one, you will give it to them. Do
you hear me?" Katie nodded.

      
She understood that if she were to come across
the locket's rightful owner, she would have no choice but to return
it. She was also pleased to know that if she never did find the
necklace's owner that it was all hers.

     
"Katie, would you please help me get dinner?"
That was Mrs. Smith Calling her daughter to help
cook.

       
Katie always enjoyed helping her mother with dinner, ever
since she was a little girl, and she hoped to become a chef
someday. Her father would be home from work in about an hour, and
he expected his dinner to be ready every single day, the minute he
walked through the door. It was his one annoying tendency that no
one could ever change. Katie walked into the kitchen, where her
mother stood over the stove, stirring a pot of soup with a wooden
spoon. Katie instantly got out some lettuce, peppers, cucumbers,
carrots, and tomatoes, and spread them out on the table. She got a
big glass bowl from the cabinet, and tossed a salad. She didn't add
the croutons or the dressing yet, though. If she did, it might get
soggy, and if it got soggy, Mr. Smith would be quite unhappy with
the meal.

     
"That looks delicious." Mrs. Smith commented,
admiring Katie's cooking skills. Katie beamed.

      
Before covering it with plastic wrap, she took a
good look at the salad that she had just made. Her mother hadn't
just been trying to make her feel good. The salad really did look
delicious. Since the salad was done, Katie helped her mother in
attending to the other courses of the meal. She helped her mother
marinate and season the chicken, whir up several side dishes, and
best of all: help make their special homemade brownies for dessert.
Just as they finished preparing the meal and setting the table,
(including the plates of food as well as the drinks) Mr. Smith
walked through the door. He seemed quite pleased with the aroma of
the meal, and took his place at the kitchen table. His wife and
daughter joined him in their usual seats. And they happily ate
their meal. They spoke very vaguely, for they believed that it was
best to keep quiet during meals, particularly the evening meal.
However the cooks didn't need Mr. Smith to tell them that he
enjoyed the meal for them to believe it. It was written all over
his face.

When they were done with the meal,
they stacked their plates into the dishwasher, and headed for the
living room.  Mr. Smith channel-surfed the television, while
Katie and her mother made popcorn. By the time it was done, Mr.
Smith had found a good family movie, and they watched it together,
until it was time to sleep. Then, they kindly asked their daughter
to go to bed, for it was nine o' clock, and they would be going to
sleep soon as well. Grumpily, Katie left her parents and the movie
behind, and headed for her room.

 

 
Chapter
Three

That night, when her parents had
long since gone to sleep, Katie lay awake in her bed. Not even a
common owl or cricket made its sound. It was really a calm and
peaceful night, but something about the tranquility made her feel
perturbed, as it always did. Katie tossed and turned restlessly,
with much endeavor to fall asleep, but something just didn't feel
right. Since she'd stayed up late that night after all, she did
start to become lethargic, and almost dozed off.

       
But all of a sudden, an awful scratching noise disconcerted
her. She sat up in bed, petrified. Beads of sweat poured down her
face, and her heart raced. She wailed only softly, so her mother
never came to comfort her and tell her that everything was all
right. The dreadful sound continued, and her sobs grew louder, but
her mother still didn't hear her. She tried to scream, but nothing
came out. Then, she grabbed a tissue and wiped away her tears.
"It's only my imagination." She told herself.

      
She refused to go crazy over a little noise. It
was probably just a stray cat or dog who was pawing at the front
door, looking for a home. If that was the case, then it would just
move on to another door after a while. And she was right. A few
minutes later, the scratching stopped, and Katie was able to drift
off to sleep.

      
Before Katie knew it, it was 6:30 am, and pop
music drifted from her alarm clock, waking her up. She could smell
pancakes, maple syrup, eggs, and bacon coming from the kitchen. Her
mouth watered with pure delight. She loved it when her mother made
a home-style breakfast. However, it was odd, as her mother usually
only made a fancy breakfast on Sundays, and it was a Saturday
morning. Katie didn't care. She just couldn't wait to eat the meal.
She ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, forgetting to put on
her slippers. To her satisfaction, there was already a place on the
table for her.

      
She looked at the breakfast. At her usual seat
there was a large plate with a sunny-side-up egg and a piece of
buttered toast, as well as a strip of bacon, and an over sized
squirt of ketchup. To the right of that plate, was a much smaller
one. On it was a stack of three buttermilk pancakes, topped with a
pat of butter and a sticky stream of maple syrup. To the right of
that, a folded napkin sat under the necessary utensils. To the left
of the larger plate, was a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange
juice. Then, she noticed that her setting was the only one
there.

        
"Where is your place setting, Mom?" she asked. "And
Dad's?"She added.

 

         
Mrs. Smith laughed. "I made the breakfast just
for you on your first day of summer vacation, sweetie." Was her
reply. "Wow!" She continued. "My little girl only has one year left
of elementary school."

          
Katie blushed briefly, as she thought of going to
middle school in less than two years.

        
"Kids these days, they grow up too fast." Katie's mother
said, more to herself than to her daughter. Mr. Smith walked into
the kitchen, and smelling the breakfast that Katie had just began
to eat, he grumpily got out a box of raisin bran cereal, and a
gallon of milk. He knew better than to complain about not getting a
breakfast like Katie's, for he was a grown man, who knew that
Katie's breakfast was special, and only intended for her
consumption.

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