The Barking Ghost

11

Frantically, I searched for a weapon. Something to protect me from the barking dogs.

I found my aluminum baseball bat in the closet. I gripped it tightly and crept across the room to my bedroom door.

I pushed it open. And listened.

Yes.

The barking was definitely coming from inside the house. From the living room, I decided.

I took a deep breath and slipped into the hallway. Where were my parents? Their bedroom is directly over the living room on the second floor. They had to hear this.

Why hadn't they come running out?

Mickey's room was on the first floor down the hall from mine. I peered down the hall and saw that his bedroom door was closed.

What's his problem? I wondered. Where is everyone?

I crept quietly down the hall, inching my way to the living room. I could hear the dogs racing around in there.

I gasped when I heard a loud crash.

Something clattered to the floor. Great-grandma's lamp, I guessed.

I stared up at the ceiling — to my parents' bedroom. Were they deaf or something?

Holding the bat in front of me, I jumped into the living room and snapped on the ceiling light.

The dogs were…

The dogs were…

NOT THERE!

The room stood empty.

"Huh?" I blinked a few times from the sudden brightness of the light, then stared around the room.

No dogs.

No growling. No barking.

But, wait! Great-grandma's lamp lay on its side on the floor.

I took a step over to the sofa. Something crunched under my bare feet.

Potato chips?

Yes. Potato chips. Scattered across the room.

I spotted the potato chip bag — ripped to shreds on the floor.

My heart thumped so hard, I thought it might burst out of my chest.

As I bent to pick up the torn bag, a shadow fell over me.

I heard heavy breathing.

And I felt a gust of hot, smelly breath shoot across my neck.