Amazing Kids! Magazine

Night Walk

By Sophia J Lenigk, age 13

 

I ambled down the concrete path, reveling in the freshness the night brought. My feet led me along the path leading to the church, and as it neared, a soft sound reached my ears. Perking up, I stopped to listen hard, and the noise came again, floating over to me in the summer breeze. It sounded like music, but not any kind I had heard before, mournful and full of longing.

Resuming my walk, the music grew louder as I neared the church, and finally I stood before the double doors. Without knowing why, I placed my hand on the knob, and pushed. The door swung open easily, the well-oiled hinges not making a squeak. With only a slight hesitation, I stepped inside. There was no one to be seen; the piano in the corner, silent. Determined to find the source of the music, I turned my attention to the balcony above, climbing the velvet steps.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I stopped abruptly, a shiver going down my spine. Under the silvery glow of the moonlight was the organ, but it was not still. The keys of the organ moved up and down, and as I watched, a page of music turned. I turned pale, one word occupying my mind. The word “ghost”.

Standing there frozen, I had to will myself not to scream. Just at that moment, a voice, probably a boy’s or young man’s, commented, “Hey, there’s a girl here.”

The music stopped abruptly, and in the silence that followed, I stammered out, “Where—what—how—why can’t I see you?”

Somewhere, someone gasped. “You can hear us?”

Another voice joined in, an older voice. “But you can’t see us?”

I told myself I was crazy, but replied to the empty room anyway. “Yes, I can hear you, what are you, ghosts?”

I heard them, whoever they were, whispering to each other before the older one replied. “Yes, we are ghosts. It’s strange that you can only hear us.” He paused for a moment before adding in a serious tone, “Maybe, you are a ghost.”

My eyes widened in shock, and I gripped the banister tightly. “No I’m not!”

I closed my eyes, wishing I could disappear. I shouldn’t be here. My thoughts were running at lightning speed, finding a reason, something to explain how I ended up here. It was a strange place nonetheless, but suddenly, I realized I wasn’t the only one here: There was a warm presence in the room, filling the church with a glow I hadn’t noticed before. I opened my eyes, and to my astonishment, I could see two people before me. One – a man – sat at the organ, his hands resting lightly on the keys. The second was a teenager, sitting on a stool by the man.

As I stared, the man smiled softly, and said, “You may not know this yet, but you belong with us. Welcome home.”