Scary Short Stories

prompt story

Hey guys! Someone used my prompt and created an adorable story, this is by  talawrence ! Go check her out! I LOVED this!

I walk past people outside the house.  The caretaker of her home, I was the one holding the key.  Responsibility came at a cost, but I could cope.
     Opening the door, I entered first, my mother behind me holding the urn.  She took it through the house into the living room.
     The people who had been outside congregated in the spacious kitchen, beginning to munch on the nibbles which had been laid out by the neighbours who were unable to attend the funeral.  There was more than enough food for everyone. 
     I heard unrelated babble as I walked back into the kitchen.  Everyone was saying what a lovely woman my gran was, and I learnt that she was well respected in her community.
     They commented on how it was sad to see her husband die many years before, and how she had wanted to be with him, but slowly came to realise she had a life to enjoy without him.  She had put on a brave face when around her friends, but behind closed doors and in front of her family, they could see she felt differently.
     As I meandered through them, I smiled to myself as a few patted me on my shoulder and told me how sorry they were.
     My mother having been by herself a long time in the front room, I went to see what was keeping her. 
     I saw her kneel in front of the fireplace as she looked up at the urn and cried.  “Come on mam, its okay.  Gran will never be forgotten,” I said, bending down to try and entice her to rise.
     She shrugged me from her.
     Exiting the room, I went to get dad.  I whispered in his ear that mam was crying in the living room and I was unable to get her from there.
     Dad immediately went to see her. 
     He was successful and I watched them leave the room to go upstairs.
     A few of the guests watched her, and one or two wanted to go after her, but my father prevented them by telling them to go back to the food as he didn’t want any to go to waste.
     With my parents upstairs, it was down to me to ‘entertain’ the guests.  I continued mingling, but before long, I wanted the toilet.
     I walked past the living room to climb the stairs.  As I climbed, I heard strange noises come from the living room.  Descending the stairs one step at a time, the music remained quiet. 
     I went by the door to listen.  I thought there was no one in the room, but an unmistakable melody came from there.  Placing my ears to the door, I heard nothing apart from the music.  Pressing down on the handle, I opened it a little bit, glancing in. 
     What I witnessed made me cry. 
     Closing it quietly, I crept upstairs not to disturb what I saw.
     “Mam, you have to come and see this,” I whispered, entering the bedroom.
     My father looked at me, “Not now.  She needs her rest.”
     “But...” I insisted.
     “No.” My father equally urged.
     “Mam, if you don’t come to see this, you may regret it for the rest of your life.”  I wanted her to listen, to see what I had witnessed. 
     She raised her head from the pillow, looking a little drugged.
     My father rose first, holding out his arm for my mother to hold.  “Now, don’t be long,” he said, leading her from the bedroom and scowled at me.
      I smiled at him, not wanting to tell him anything.
     As I walked down the stairs behind her, I asked, “Can you hear it?”
     “Hear what?” My father asked.
     My mother turned her head, and I immediately knew she heard. 
     “It’s coming from the living room,” I informed her.
     Still walking as slowly as she had started, she eventually reached the bottom.
     I pushed past her to go to the living room door, again pushing the handle down slowly and opening it slightly, waving at my mother to come to the door to look through the crack.
     She did, and there it was.  She witnessed what I had seen.
     She opened the door a little wider and my father then saw the same.
     The spirits of my grandparents were dancing in the middle of the room to what was probably one of their favourite ‘old’ songs, ‘Be My Baby’.  When it reached the line ‘You know I will adore you ‘till eternity’ I heard my grandfather sing. 
     With those words, both of them vapourised from the room.
     My mother pushed the door fully open, crying as she ran into the room.
     I followed, and as I trod over the carpet where the dancing had happened I felt a warmth and smiled to myself.
     Mother went to the urn, pulling it off the shelf.  Pulling off the top, she looked inside, before showing it to us.  It was empty.
     “He came to get her like she always knew he would,” she said.

Again, this is by talawrence !