Donuts & Tombstones: Part 3- The Lonely Little Girl

Photos Taken the Next Day

Melinda appeared by my side, gasping for breath. Her shoulder brushed mine- just as Kyle’s had.

The tombstone chunks before us swirled and crunched with growing intensity, becoming frantic as they attempted to fit together and settle. A dust cloud billowed from the chaos, filling our noses with powdered stone.

“It’s not possible” Kyle said over the noise. “There is no logical order for the rock to arrange itself in to become whole again. The pieces have become too smoothed from repeated collisions.”

“NO!” A tiny, child-like voice screamed from center of the chaos.

Tink, tink, tink . . .

Tiny gravel pieces from the road scraped by our feet, pushed by a sudden breeze. The gravel whipped around our legs, blowing my mini skirt sideways. All at once, the gravel flew into the air and catapulted toward us, as if slung from a slingshot.

 “Duck!” Melinda screamed.

I grabbed Kyle, pulling him down into a huddle, our heads knocking together.

“Let’s get out of here!” Melinda panted, pulling my arm in the direction of the Jeep.

“No,” I answered softly. “I have to help.”

“No, you don’t. It’s a fucking ghost!! We need to get outta here.” Melinda pleaded.

“Yes, let’s go. There is nothing to help,” Kyle chorused, lurching toward the Jeep. He clearly didn’t believe in the paranormal.

“I . . . I can’t explain it” I said, standing slowly, letting the gravel bits dance off my skin, “but I can feel it- whatever it is. It’s so frightened . . .” I took a step forward toward the swirling chaos. I couldn’t help it. It wanted so much to be comforted- so much to be held . . .

“Morgan?! Don’t . . .” Melinda yelled, but I barely heard her. My feet propelled me forward, toward the chaos and the moans- toward the anguish.

Sobbing filled my ears as I stopped a foot away from the distressed rock. “I feel you” I whispered. “What do you want?”

“GO AWAY!” A child screamed in a high-pitched wail. Bits of cemetery earth flew at me, pelting my face and arms with fresh, wet earth. A child was screaming at me . . . a poor, frightened ghost child . . .

“You’re lonely.” I gasped, piecing together the raw emotions that flooded me. “I know of a place where there are others like you. You don’t have to be alone.” I said, thinking of Fred and the happy child spirits within his walls.

The scraping stopped, bringing chunks of still rock to the ground. The dust cloud settled and the air cleared, bringing with it the sound of chirping crickets. From the now slumbering tombstone fragments, a small white figured emerged- a little girl, no older than 5 years old with long flowing hair and Oshkosh overalls. She grasped her hands tightly in a prayerful position, looking up at me with a hopeful expression.

“You promise?” The ghost girl asked, her voice echoey- almost human.

“I promise. Come with me.” I answered, ushering her toward the Jeep. The ghost girl floated, a small smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

The keys were still in the ignition of the Jeep, the headlights still burning bright.

“Get in,” I commanded Melinda and Kyle.

Kyle nodded, dragging an open-mouthed Melinda into the backseat. Kyle looked far away, as if he was trying to calculate an impossible math problem- which I guess he was.

I drove in complete silence, the small ghost following all the way, floating thorough the darkness. She danced in and out of the rear-view mirror, a little girl finally given hope. Town was deserted; I didn’t pass a single car on the way to Fred.

I parked in the very corner of the old school where Fred’s building was, behind a towering old oak tree. My feet hit the potholed lot and I breathed in a sigh I relief. The energy there was happy- peaceful even. The ghost girl floated in my peripheral vision.

“This is Fred,” I said, looking to the tiny ghost. “There are lots of kids here. Fred takes care of them.” She looked at me, her eyes big with worry.

“Don’t worry, they’ll love you.” I smiled.

She smiled back and then floated slowly through the darkness, up the back stairs of Fred, right through the old boarded up door. A giggle echoed off the walls, escaping the old broken windows. The girl had finally found her home.

In that moment, something solidified within my mind. I’d found Fred, the person and the place, at just right the moment- just when his story was ready to be shared with the world. The same rang true for the little ghost. I had to find her after I’d discovered Fred, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to help. It’s like OGS has a plan for me- a plan to help the spirits here finally find peace . . .

“What the hell, Morgan?!” Melinda cried from behind me, slamming the Jeep’s door.



Well, it seems that I have some explaining to do. I only hope Melinda and Kyle don’t think I’m totally insane. I guess we’ll find out together . . .

See ya’ll next week for another story from OGS!




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