Matured Stories

THE SEXTON HOUSE – Episode 25

The cool air around me sends a shiver
down my spine, as the dark night starts
to close in on me. The sun starts to lower
in the sky as I walk through an empty
space. I’m not really sure where I am or
how I got here, but I must be here for a
reason.

The farther my legs take me the more I
realize where I am. The concrete stones
around me start to get duller as I
continue my journey through the
graveyard. It’s not till I’m face-to-face
with the headstone of ‘Daniel Sexton’
that I start to grow anxious as to why I
am here.

A little boy appears, probably around the
age of three. He peaks out from behind a
tombstone with piercing blue eyes. I’m
taken back as to why a child would be in
a cemetery at this time of day and also
being alone.

“Hey, little guy.” I try my best to not
sound frightening, but oddly he doesn’t
seem to be scared.

He has dark hair and pale skin with blue
eyes. He doesn’t speak, but I’m not really
for sure if he is even old enough to.
“What are you doing here?” he clearly
speaks, without a stutter or hesitation.
I’m taken back at how well he talks for
looking so young, maybe he’s older then
what I thought.

“I’m not really sure why I am here.” I
truthfully admit to the child. I bend
down so I am resting on my knees.

We’re now eye-to-eye level.

“I know why you’re here. You came to
see me.” My eyebrows crease at the
young boys words, but I’m too intrigued
to interrupt him with pointless
questions.

“You were sent to help me, I know it.”

He excitedly speaks. “I’ve been waiting
years for this.” I’m so confused at what
the young boy is saying, but I’m very
interested.

“Who sent me?” I finally ask.

“Someone, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, why was I sent to help you? Are
you in trouble?” The boy looks down
with a sad expression on his young
features. He looks up at me with his big
blue eyes and says,
“I’m dead, Harry.” My mouth falls a gap.

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“What do you mean? How do you know
who I am?” My mind swirls with
questions.

“You have to help us, Harry. You have
to.” He almost begs as he starts to
disappear.

“Who? Who is us?” I frantically ask, as
he starts to slowly fade away into
nothing. “Her…” He trails off as he points
towards the house.

” Anna.” My body jolts forwards as I
wake up from a very weird, but realistic
dream. My breathing is uneven as I
slowly enter back into reality. I roll over
onto my side as lightening strikes
outside.

My hand lands on the book I started
reading before I fell asleep. I pick it back
up and start reading where I left off.

I’m about four pages into the book titled,
“Secrets Within The Sextons” when I
learn a shocking fact. Daniel Sexton was
murdered October 12th, 1905. It doesn’t
say who killed the young boy it just says
he was strangled and beaten to death.

My heartaches knowing a three year old
was brutally murdered like that.
I set the book down on the bedside table
before getting up and heading towards
the staircase. I am determined to figure
out what that dream meant and how
Anna is involved. I swiftly climb the
stairs two at a time before standing
before the old, wooden door. I take a
deep breath before entering.

Lightening continues to strike outside
and the branches on the trees brush and
bang against the house and windows,
creating an eerie feel. I light the candles
that were up here last time. After
successfully lighting all four wax sticks I
stand in the middle of the room waiting,
waiting for her to show herself.

Minutes pass and nothing happens,
maybe she is not here. I start to leave,
giving up on her, but before I can a
voice stops me.

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“Don’t go.” A soft, delicate voice speaks. I
turn around towards the sound of her
voice. There in the corner of the room
she stands with her hands behind her
back and hair cascaded down the front
of her dress.

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“I won’t if you don’t want me to.” She
nods before saying, “Stay. I want you
too.” This is oddly going better then I
originally thought it would, I’m honestly
shocked. She motions for me to take a
seat on her bed, so I do. The springs
squeak as my weight shifts on the
mattress. She decides to stay standing
from a few feet away.

” Harry, right?” I nod my head.” I’m
sorry about last night… Daniel is a
touchy subject for me. ” She puts her
head down, acting as if she is about to
cry.
“It’s alright, I shouldn’t of asked.” I tell
her. “It’s fine you didn’t know.”She
replies back, locking eyes with me.
“Can I ask you something? It’s quite
important to me.” She seems almost
hesitant to ask whatever it is. “Yes, of
course.”
“Why did you move into my house? You
do realize all the memories that these
four walls hold? I’ve always wondered
this since you moved in.” I think on her
question, knowing at the time I just
wanted to get away from my
overprotective mother.

“Well, you see my mother was the main
reason why I moved out and into this
house. She likes to control my life even
though I am a twenty-one year old man.”
I start to explain myself. ” She has always
liked to control my life, ever since I was
little she has felt the need to. But
recently I finally grew a pair and stood
up for myself and told her I was moving
out and away. It broke her heart to see
her ‘baby’ go, but I had to get out of
there.” Anna listens with eager eyes, as
she slowly makes her way to the edge of
the bed where she sits gazing at me.

“Your mother seems like a wonderful
woman, I have no idea why you would
want to leave her.” Anna says with all
seriousness. “What are you kidding me?
She is terrible- okay maybe not terrible,
but she is pretty bad.” I laugh, knowing
my mother loves me dearly, she just
needs to learn to let go.

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“Well, to me she sounds lovely.” Anna
says, raising her head up. It’s so odd how
different she is acting tonight. Like one
day she doesn’t want me in her sight,
then the next we are actually having a
civil conversation. It’s quite odd.
“So are you really a ghost? I know we
have already gone over this, but I find it
really hard to believe.” I admit. I have
always wondered if maybe this was some
kind of twisted joke.

“Dead? Yes. Ghost? I’m not really sure.
People say I am, but I don’t really know,
Harry.” She explains. ” Well if you’re
dead then why aren’t you in the
afterlife? Or wherever deceased people
go.” I questioned, not fully
understanding all of this.

“Well, Harry I don’t really know that
either.” Her features fall into a frown, as
the truth of her words hit her.
” I’ve been up here for years, I just
assume this is my resting place.” She
plays with the lose strings on the end of
her dress, looking down at her feet.
“Do you remember being alive?” She
slowly looks up at me, but in a non
creepy way.

“Yes. I relive it all the time.”
“What do you mean?” My eyebrows raise,
intrigued to know the answer.

“Do you remember one time you came up
here and I disappeared?” I nodded
remembering how confused I was. “Well,
when that happens I wake up to my old
life. I run downstairs greeting my mother
in the kitchen, as she fixes father
breakfast before he leaves for work. My
father always kisses me on the forehead
before he slips out the door. Everything
is perfect, back to normal. And then it
happens.” She pauses, looking over to
the window where branches lightly rub
against the glass.

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