George the Ghost

The stinging rain came in where the old wooden roof had blown away years ago on the ancient ruins of the castle on the hill. George the ghost lived here, where he performed his job of protecting his wife and children and giving them a happy home. At the beginning of every year, the wind was fierce and the air icy cold inside the castle. 

To keep them warm and safe, George told his shivering ghostly family to lay in their cosy wooden bunkers in the ground for the winter.

George, who was still on look-out duty, grew cold, bored, and lonely during this time and had nothing to do so he practised his howling and wailing skills. After all, he needed to be ready to frighten away the human visitors that would arrive in the springtime – they’d come as chattering groups of hikers, disturbing the peace for his sleeping family and leaving litter to annoyingly flit around in the breeze.

George had become highly skilled at floating over the castle entrance making a menacing shadow on the ground. He would swoop his ghostly arm over the sleeping bats and they would wake up in a fright and rush out the door in a big black cloud, knocking over everyone in their way. “I’m not going in there!” the hikers would say. “It’s too creepy!” And off they’d brisky wander by.

In the springtime, the days grew longer as the air grew warmer. The roots of the new plants growing in the soil started to tap against the lids of the wooden bunkers and George’s family would awaken from their wintry sleep.

“Come out to play,” the weeds seemed to say. Out came the ghosts, ready to play in the sunshine.

They whooped with joy as they chased the wind, flying in and out of the arches and turrets of the castle. George loved to hear his family so happy and vowed to never let any human visitors into their home. He didn’t want anyone to frighten his family.

Summer was here at last and the stone castle walls shone like silver under the sun, shimmering against the deep blue sky like a beautiful painting. Lots of visitors came and George’s throat grew sore from all the wailing he had to do to frighten the humans away.

“Flippin’ humans!” he said, “Horrible noisy things! They bring their barking dogs and make all that racket – shouting and cheering when they kick that silly round thing around.”

Noisy human families came up from the village to play games and have picnics in the picturesque castle grounds. A haunting “Wooooooooooo,” would fill the air if anyone got near the castle entrance and George beamed with satisfaction when they screamed and ran away.

***

One day, he noticed a young man, a teenager, walking up to the castle entrance by himself. His hands were in his pockets and he looked at the ground; George could tell that the young man was sad.

George laid his dark shadow over the doorway hoping to spook the lad but it didn’t work. The teenager didn’t seem to notice and continued into the castle.

“Wooooooooo! Wooooooooo,” wailed George, but to no effect. The teenager found a corner in a shady spot where the grass was thick and sat down. Leaning against a cool bit of wall, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes with a sigh.

George tried to frighten him again, rushing past to cause a gust of cold wind as he let out an eerie howling sound.

This must surely make him realise the castle is haunted, George thought. He could see the goosebumps rise up on the arms of the teenager but it didn’t make him get up and go away. 

Annoyed, George reluctantly gave up, and flew back to the castle entrance ready to frighten off any other intruders.

Throughout the day, George kept an eye on the teenager. As he did so, he realised that the young man wasn’t doing anything annoying. He wasn’t being noisy, he wasn’t dropping litter, and he didn’t have a barking dog with him. Thankfully, the ghostly family could go about their normal day without being bothered.

The next day, the teenager turned up again. His face was red from his climb up the hill in the heat. He sat in the same shaded nook in the castle. This time he brought a book to read.

It soon became obvious that the castle was his favourite place to hide away. However, George was still unhappy about the young man’s presence. It was like having an annoying fly buzzing around your house. He didn’t like having a stranger in his home.

***

Autumn blew in with crunchy orange and golden leaves swirling through the castle halls.

One day, as he blew the leaves back outside, George noticed some writing on the wall where the young man usually sat. He swooped down to read it. Simon was here!

At first George was furious, but then he realised that ‘Simon’ had to be a name.

If he has a name, then he must be a person, like me. He must have a mum and a dad, and maybe brothers and sisters, he thought. But I never see him with them. Maybe that’s why he’s so sad. This helped George feel kinder toward the young man, Simon.

The cooler October air meant that Simon started wearing his duffel coat and pulled down a woolly hat over his ears. It always seemed to be much colder on the hill than in his village. He still shuffled along, deep in thought with his hands in his pockets.

As George watched the lad over these months, he felt sad that he couldn’t help Simon find happiness. He tried to help him feel better by using his invisible body to block the biting wind, and he often sat on that area of grass to stop it getting wet in the rain. Soon it was too cold and dark for Simon to come up to the castle at all.

That November, the ghost family watched the fireworks whizzing in the ink-black sky above the village before going back to sleep for the winter again. I wonder if Simon is down there somewhere, George thought.

He left his family on the hill to enjoy the display and flew down over the crowd surrounding a bonfire on the village sports field. He was worried about Simon and searched hard among the glowing faces eating toffee apples and hot-dogs.

There he was! Simon stood tall with his arms around a girl. They were cosy and giggling in their winter boots, gloves, and scarves. She was a bit shorter than him and was resting her head on his chest. Simon’s face beamed with joy. Happiness flooded through George’s soul.

Back at the castle, George the ghost kissed his family goodnight and settled them in for another winter. He loved them greatly and was glad that Simon had someone to love now, too. He returned to his look-out post above the castle entrance, to guard them and practise his wailing ready for Spring’s return with its hikers and picnickers.Somehow, George thought with a smile, I don’t think I’ll be seeing my friend Simon back again next year.

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Need more ghostly tales? Check out these haunting stories and poems from other authors at the MockingOwl Roost.

• Chorus of the Waiting – Short Story
• Ghost Talker – Book Review
• A Dream – Short Story
• One Small Bite – Halloween Poetry
• Selling Books – Short Story
• Transcendence – Flash Fiction
• The Witch’s Familiar – Flash Fiction
• A Spooky Sight – Halloween Poetry
• Graveyard in the Attic – Flash Fiction