A Memory Of A Ghost

 All I've ever know was screaming.

The house is two levels, not much room to hide. Watching threw the crack in the closets door for the monster in the house. The demons that drove nails upside down in my bedroom floor that are always playing tricks. The evening before In the basement sat my grandfathers old 1930's radio, those old tall round ones with the big nobs and the even bigger frequency plate. I awoke to Chicken little the sky is falling playing on the record player. One of those golden story inch records that you read with the book.

I get up rub my eyes and walk to the steps that lead into the basement. Darkness and nightmares live down there.Past images of my brother high on lsd playing albums backwards to get the full effect. Walking through walls in nightmare filled rage, so much anger residing in his heart. I walk down the stairs one step at a time, the record still playing as chicken little warns his world that the sky is indeed falling. The towns people laugh and walk away. All of a sudden The music stops, as any child filled with awe and fear can only see, a pair of white eyes are floating off in the distance. I turn and run wild under my covers, I hear them whispering, always fighting. They won't leave me alone. I hid holding the blankets tight with my super-bunny to protect me. I hear them around the bed,they whisper in my mind. A mind already skipping happily away.