By;
Jessica Singleton
" Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know. " - Ernest Hemingway
The depth of most people's opinions are about as intense as their vision range. Sometimes when they talk , you cannot even squint to see it. I am sorry if that was rude but it is the truth. Why lie and tell the world that Santa Claws is a real person? While you're at it, let them know about the Easter Bunny. I was watching TV one time and they had this special about cats. There was this famous author who left his entire estate to cats. His cats no less. I swear to you now. God be with it. That man was not considered insane. Not at all. Thank God though. Just think of how one would look if they made a decision that no one wanted to hear. I guess as long as it meows then no one can say that you're crazy. The point of that is ; people only question your mind when you disagree with them. So just say yes and nod your head like a bobble headed crack head in an alley. That way you always fit in with the norm. The American Dream; Get a fat wife who will bring you a plate of food and have a child that is white and as pissignorant as you are. That way no one thinks that you're gay.
I spend most of my time behind a piece of glass. I take pictures for a magazine. Art in photography is my past time. I like to read too. But taking pictures is just much more relaxing to me. I get to look for art in the things around me. Then I get to bring still objects to life , so that the whole world can see them the way that I see them.
So I wanted to use my vacation time this year to drive around and to take pictures. It sounded amazing to visit old homes. Those big Victorians that usually exist upstate. I drove my car around to see them all. I did too. That was a breath of fresh air. I slept in, showered, and then drove with the windows down and U2 playing on my CD player. I took three CD's with me. I knew I would not be on the road that much.
U2 , Tool , And Alice In Chains....
I ate at this diner that sits on the highway. I do not venture out with menus much. I get soda pop or iced sweet tea. Then whatever comes on a plate is basically a sandwich.
I found this house that had it's own graveyard attached to it. The whole family died in the 1700's. The man who once owned the place was an inventor named Toad. Toad's family started to slowly die after the death of his son. The son BigToad died when he was just 4 years old.
The rumor was that he had a cat and the cat was wet. Then the cat tried to jump into an electric device that Toad Senior was working on. It electrocuted them both. Cat and boy.
Well, I took lots of pictures. Then when I got home I noticed that in all the pictures that I took there was a small child in it. I drove back out there because I did not want that. I assumed some little neighborhood kids thought it'd be funny to get in the way of my photo shot. No there was no one. Although when I went back out there I found a necklace. It looked real. I took it to a guy that I know. It was real. Not only that, it was to have belonged to the woman of that house back in the 1700's. The necklace was legendary in itself.
Some time later when my photos sold out like beer at a rock concert for men, I had a lot of money. More then enough to buy a nice Victorian home. I bought that old Toad house.
What a find. It was great. Anyway
I got the house and all of the antiques in it. The first night there I found that necklace again. I guess that I forgot to put it away.
That night a child was standing at the end of my bed. It was that kid from the pictures. I started to sit up and to tell him to get the blank out of my home. Then he pulled out an AX and he chopped off my head like he was George Washington with a cherry tree.
I woke up the next morning . I was alive but I had a headache. I looked into that kid. There was no kid. He was a ghost. He was a spiting image of that kid who'd died years ago. I saw his picture. He was the only one. The truth was there.
I also found out what really killed him.
His mother was into black magic. She needed to shed his blood to help herself out. So they covered up his death.
To get rid of the ghost, I had to set the record straight. Then once his soul was at rest, then he left the house.
The End
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