Excerpt of Haunted Echoes by Emma Bloom

When she made her way across the driveway of the old Pruitt house, a
shiver ran up her spine, and the voice that had been following her
around whispered near her ear. “Help her.”

Help who? Abby paused at the old rusty mailbox and gazed at the vacant
house. The Pruitt's had not lived in the house since Abby was about
six. Abby had always wondered why they had not attempted to sell it.
While the house might have been decrepit, the land would still have
been worth something. The wooden exterior of the house had seen much
better days. The white painted slats now showed the tattered grey wood
beneath. The kids all said the Pruitt house was haunted, but Abby had
always brushed their words off. Most of them wouldn't know a haunted
house from a hole in the ground. They were not cursed with the ability
to hear them. Abby had never entered it to test their theory either,
but today was a different story. She wasn't quite ready to go home and
found the idea of a distraction held an appeal.

Walking up the steps of the house, Abby winced as they creaked beneath
her. The wood seemed to crack and pop with each step, making her glad
there were only a handful of steps to the front door. After she made
it onto the porch which wrapped around the front to the left side,
Abby peered into the windows. The complete inside of the house was
barren. Abby walked back to the front and debated what her next move
would be. She stood there for what seemed a lifetime, wondering if she
should try to find a way inside. Abby nearly jumped out of her skin
when the doorknob turned, and the door squeaked open on its own
accord.

She could have waited some more as she tried to convince herself that
it was fine to go inside, but instead, she did the opposite. Pushing
the door open more, she slid inside. When it slammed loudly behind
her, Abby jumped and took a few more steps into the house. Scanning
the room around her, it looked as if someone had attempted to renovate
the inside of the house, but had stopped mid way through. The wood
paneling on the wall had been painted a stark white, which made her
feel like she was standing inside an igloo. The flooring had been
ripped up, and only old wooden boards remained. The window frames were
covered in paint that had started to chip away.

Abby debated whether or not to explore the house some more, before she
was drawn to the small fireplace at the center of the room. Walking
closer to the where the old bricks were exposed inside it, she
couldn't quite figure out what was drawing her to that spot. As she
got closer, she saw a small piece of paper sticking out of the bottom.
“That's odd.” How could a piece of paper even be there, considering no
one had been in this house for quite some time? Had someone been
camping out inside the house? Crouching down, she eyed it once more
before curiosity got the better of her.

The moment her fingers touched the tattered slip of paper, a blizzard
of air hit her face, and images flashed into the surface of her mind.
They came so fast that Abby could not decipher them at all. Her mind
was set at warp speed, and nothing could still the pictures enough to
figure out what she was being shown. She squinted, hoping that closing
her eyes a little would make it easier to process. Not at all. The air
around her shifted, and foggy haze crept up the floor around her feet.
The air pressure sizzled, and a tight tension squeezed its way into
her spinal column. The intensity settling around her was almost
suffocating. Abby closed her eyes, hoping that she could imagine a
different reality than the one that presented itself to her at the
moment. She was more than disappointed when she opened her eyes. The
moment Abby scanned the room, she was aware of the spirit that had
formed in the corner of the haze before her. The ghost shifted a
little, and then floated off the floor.

“Hello?” Abby's voice cracked on the last syllable. While she wondered
what the spirit needed, she wanted nothing more than to run away
before it could answer. She reminded herself that this was just an
imprint, and nothing would happen to her. Unfortunately, her nerves
took over. Crumpling the paper in her hand, she zipped out of the room
and bounded down the stairs. Abby almost tripped over the last step,
but caught herself before she fell.

After leaving the house, her feet moved so fast, she thought she would
trip over the laces which threatened to come loose with each step. She
made it to her house in five minutes, one lonely foot in front of the
other. When she unlocked the door, a familiar buzz greeted her. The
television switched on then off, then on one last time.