Aunt Celia's House: A Paranormal Story

A short paranormal story.



I loved my Aunt Celia. She was widowed. Her husband Harrison had died in a war fought long ago. Aunt Celia was a proud widow. She never remarried. I used to hear my mother tell her to get on with her life. Aunt Celia would state that men like Harrison Williams were one of kind. I will never marry again and I will cherish the reason why I don't. Aunt Celia said this with great pride. She often told me stories of her beloved Harrison. I could understand, even at my young age. I was a romantic at a tender young age. My dear aunt was, too.

Around the age of nine years old, I was asked by my aunt Celia to stay with her overnight. I was honored. Aunt Celia lived in a southern style mansion. It was huge. Pure white columns and two stories. Verandas, porches and stairs. Six bedrooms and three bathrooms. Such elegance. I lived with my mother in a two bedroom house. It suited our purpose, but it could hardly be called elegant. Aunt Celia had a great sense of humor and this, I felt that I shared with her. She was always perfectly dressed, not a hair out of place. I tried very hard to imitate her. I was rarely worthy, but she loved me anyway.

I ran up the stairs to the mansion and aunt Celia waved my mother off. "I am so glad you came to stay the night with me Grace," She said. I echoed that sentiment and thanked her for inviting me. "We will have lots of fun!" She said. And that we did. It was almost Easter and we dyed and decorated Easter eggs and placed all of them in a large beautiful basket to be taken to the church, the next morning. My aunt played me many records on her old phonograph. The songs were sweet and romantic. They brought joy into the room and onto my dear aunt's face. She dabbed her eyes now and then. She showed me a few waltz steps and I was so happy. She fixed supper for us and shooed me off to bed. My room was a young girl's dream. Pale pink wallpaper, ivory white furniture and pink satin comforters on the bed. Many small toys and cute figurines were on a cabinet against the wall. There was a beautiful doll on my bed. It had golden curls, a cherub face and pink satin clothes. I grabbed it close and snuggled into the soft bed. I fell into a deep sleep.

It must have been around midnight when I woke up. A strange scratching noise was coming from the closet. It sounded like an animal was scratching, trying to get out. I had a low lamp on in the room and was quite curious. Not scared at all. I felt safe in aunt Celia's house and knew that there must be a logical reason for the disturbing noise. Some animal must be trapped, I thought. I flung the closet door open and came face to face with my uncle Harrison. I recognized him immediately from all of the photos that my aunt Celia had shown me over the years. He had on an army uniform of some sort. His twirled moustache and dark curly hair was familiar, even though I had never laid actual eyes on the man. He grinned at me, almost sheepishly.

I almost screamed, but somehow, I managed to hold it in. Uncle Harrison stepped out of the closet and into the room. He was as tall as aunt Celia had described him. He said "Shh." I dared not make a sound. Uncle Harrison Williams had an important story to tell me and a mission to accomplish and he knew it. He threw his arm around me and instantly, I felt a radiant love in that embrace. He smiled at me and he said "I died here, they brought me home before I passed on." I nodded. He said "I had something for your aunt Celia and I never had a chance to give it to her. It came home with me, but I hid it, thinking that I would be able to give it to her later. As you know, I died here, I never walked again out of our bedroom." I nodded again and almost started crying. Uncle Harrison said "Shh. It is okay, my little one, don't be afraid." I smiled bravely at him. He nodded and said "Look under your bed, under the mattress and there you will find a ring box. Give it to Celia. I brought it back for her and I have always hated that she did not get it before I died. I know how faithfully she loved me and I love her just as much. We will be together soon, but I wanted her to have this ring." I gulped, nodded and smiled. My dead uncle Harrison Williams patted me softly on the head. "You stay close by her, she needs you." were his parting words. I nodded. He vanished.

I was so tired, I barely managed to shut the closet door and crawl back into the soft bed. I woke up in the early dawn. I jumped out of bed and put my small hand under the fluffy mattress. My tiny fingers found a small velvet box. I drew it out. I smiled. I rushed downstairs, to the kitchen and found my aunt making a pot of coffee. "What are you doing up so early, Grace?" She asked me. "I have something for you." I said. I presented her with the black velvet ring box. She looked at me quite funny as she opened it. A loud gasp followed. I could not help it, I started laughing. She was holding the ring and a small folded note with it. It said "I came home and I brought you this, but it can't compare to the amount of love that you have given me. This ring means we will see one another again in eternity and for always. Love, Harrison.

I had never seen my aunt cry before, but she bawled her eyes out, that Easter morning. I did, too. Aunt Celia asked me, I knew that she would, "How did you get this?" I thought long and hard before I answered her. Some folks do not do so well with paranormal stories, you know. I answered "He brought it to me to give to you. It was here all of the time and he died before he had a chance to give it to you." Aunt Celia smiled. The ring was a large blue sapphire set in gold. Her birth stone. And mine. She put the ring on. It fit perfectly. We dressed and gathered our Easter basket filled with colored eggs and set off towards the church. My hand was held tightly in my aunt's. We were both grinning ear to ear.