Matured Stories


The old man’s words seem to spark some
kind of fear deep inside of me, and it only
makes me want to learn more about Anna,
and why she is the way she is.

“What do you mean: you still are?” I ask,
taking a few steps closer to him.

He stands up a little straighter before
saying, “Well son, if you have time for a cup
of coffee I’ll be glad to tell you a very
haunting story.” I nod my head, nervous but
also eager to know what this man’s story is.

“Take a seat and I’ll go get some drinks.” he
motions for me to take a seat in the lobby

I guess I try my best to get comfortable on
the hideous flowered printed couch as I
wait for the old man to return. After a few
minutes, he comes back with two cups of
coffee, I’m assuming.

“Here you go.” he hands me mine before
sitting down across from me, on an almost
equally ugly couch. “Well, before we start,
I’m George Harrington.” he reaches his arm
out for me to shake. I accept.

“I’m Harry Styles.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry,” he says,
nodding his head at me.

“You too, sir.” we both relax back in our
seats before George speaks again.

“Well, it all started sixty years ago, at the
time I was seventeen; that young and dumb
age.” he chuckles, smiling at a memory.

“The Sexton House had been haunted for
about forty or so years before I was dared to
go in. Nobody lived there, only a few people
kept up the yard, but no one had stepped
foot in the house for years.” he explains,
coughing a bit at the end. “I was over at one
of my buddies’ house with some other
friends, and they dared me to go in…

because at the time I was scared of every
little thing. They thought it would be
funny.” he shakes his head before
continuing. “They promised me they would
go in with me, and they did, but once I was
in the house they said for me to really prove
I was no longer chicken, I needed to go
upstairs. So I did, as the rain poured down,
and lightning struck outside, adding to my
nerves. But I was determined to prove to
them I could do it.”

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George and I sipped on our coffee. “Once I
was in the tower window room, I heard the
door downstairs slam shut and I knew at
that moment I was in big trouble. But I
didn’t run, I convinced myself it would be
alright. And just as I was looking out the
window, this was before they boarded it up,
I felt a cold presence behind me, and at that
moment I knew I wasn’t alone…”

I grip onto my cup, remembering how it felt
last night when she showed up. It got icy
cold in the room, right before she spoke.

“When I gained enough courage to turn
around, I was shocked. Anna was standing
mere inches from me. I, of course, screamed
bloody murder and started to run out the
door, but right as I was beside the exit she
threw something sharp at me.” he pulls up
his sleeve to show a large scar, reaching
from his wrist, all the way to his elbow.
“Oh my God.”
“Yeah. I thought I would die that night. I
won’t step foot in that house again for
anything.” he shivers at the haunting
memory, shaking his head.

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“You said earlier she still haunts you?” he
looks up, locking gases with me.
“She does. She’s in my dreams every night. I
can still feel her cold presence, even in the
middle of summer.” I nod my head, almost
tempted to call Charlie and tell him he can
have his d–n haunted house back, but I
have a feeling I’m already in too deep.
“S–t,” I curse to myself. I forgot all about
working today at the graveyard! Charlie will
have my head, I’ve already been late once.
“What’s a matter, son?” George asks.
“I just remembered I have to work today,” I
tell him as I get up. I check my watch to see
it’s already after eight-thirty. “Thank you for
telling me your story, I’m sure I won’t
forget it anytime soon.” I sit my cup of
coffee down, thanking him for it.

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“No problem,” he says as I’m about to walk
out the door. “Oh, and Harry… be careful.” I
nod my head and sprint towards my truck.

Thankfully the weather is nice today and
not storming like it was last night.

* * *

As I arrive back home, I go straight to the
kitchen, grabbing myself a banana before
going out the backyard and heading towards
the little shed. I can see Charlie tying up
what looks like garbage. Once he sees me he
shakes his head, before he goes back to
tying the bags.

“It’s about time you showed up,” he says,
annoyed. “What’d you do, stay out with
some girl?” he raises a brow at me.

I laugh before saying, “Yeah. Something like
that.” if only he knew the encounter I had
with one last night.

“Well don’t just stand there, grab these bags
and take them around back and throw them
in the trashcans,” he orders me.

I do as I’m told and grab the heavy bags,
before attempting to carry them. “What in
the world is in these bags?” I ask, raising
my brows as I tug on the tie strings.

“Bodies,” he simply says, looking me straight
in the eyes. For a second I believe him,
before he cracks a smile.

“Ha ha, very funny,” I tell him sarcastically.
I throw them over my shoulder, groaning at
the size before carrying them to the side of
the graveyard, where the big blue
dumpsters are.

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I lift the lid, holding my breath from the
stench and then throwing them in. I close it
again and start walking back towards the
shed. “What else do you need me to do?” I
ask Charlie once I’m back. He looks a bit

“How about you try using the weedier and
going around the tombstones,” he tells me,
pointing towards the stones.

“All of them?” he looks up.

“Yes, is something wrong?” I shake my head
before grabbing the weedier and starting to
cut the weeds around the stone tombs.

* * *

I get to the back of the cemetery where the
familiar stone of Daniel Sexton lies. I sit the
weedier down before taking my break in
front of his tomb. The longer I stare at it,
the more I wish I knew.

“I sure do wish you could talk, buddy,” I
whisper, tracing the cement. I start to pull
at the grass around the area before
speaking again. “I’m going to figure out
who you are.”

I get up and grab the weed cutter, stalking
back towards the shed. I plan to go to the
library in hopes of finding something out
about him. If he’s anyway related to the
Sextons, then there should be something

I drop off my stuff at the little shack, before
heading inside and stripping down to take a
shower. I try not to let the memory of Anna
last night creep its way back in my head as
I run my fingers through my hair with soap.

After I dry off, I grab some clothes and put
them on, before putting on my shoes and
heading for the kitchen. I make sure to get
the keys off the counter before locking the
door behind me.

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