The Ghostly Tale of Benjamin Harold

A remote in hand, Benjamin was watching tv. Or rather, was looking for something to come on. he was home alone that night, and the silence was nearly deafening. But nothing was too interesting that night, just some cartoon he felt he was 10 years too old to watch and a CSI spin-off he didn't care for in the least.

He stood after hitting the power button and was going to log onto a computer when he noticed an odd light dancing on the white shades of the living room windows. He pulled them back and felt as if he could no longer breathe.

His neighbors house was on fire, nearly entombed in twisting flame and black tendrils of smoke. The Anderson's next door were quite old, and he knew that Mr. Anderson was in a wheel chair. His wife wasn't fairing too much better.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed 911. He didn't even give the woman on the other side time to speak once she answered, he just started spouting information.

He was repeatedly assured that help was coming, and just as he hung up Mrs. Anderson opened the front door, a plume of spoke escaping out into the sky. He ran outside to tell her he had called for help, but this did little to help calm the frantic elderly woman.

"He... he's st.. still in there." she managed to get out between fits of coughs. Still no sound of sirens in the distance. Benjamin saw only one thing he could do for the woman with tears in her eyes she refused to let fall. He pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth and dashed inside the still burning house.

The End

2 comments about this story Feed