The Ghost in the Window (Haunted House Book 1)

by Ayse Hafiza

  “That the price was so competitive,”

  “Yes, of course,” said Mr. Sullivan. “See you at 12.00 noon on Saturday.”

  “See you then.”

  Rashid hung up the phone and rubbed his chin. He couldn’t believe that he was thinking about the house being haunted. The house had been perfect for the last nine years, why was this just starting to happen now. It wasn’t just any house it was their home, they had made it their home, and now they were being pushed out.

  He went to the window and looked out at his children. Who or what else was watching them, that thought made a chill travel down his spine.

  15

  History

  Kawser hadn’t been able to feel comfortable in the home since her conversation with Saima. Someone was watching them, stopping Saima from speaking with her own mom. Who the hell was Lizzy? All that Rashid had said was that the husband had passed away in the garage. So, if that was the case, what was lingering in the house? Why wouldn’t it leave them alone? She felt a mother’s pain, and nothing could erase her tears and upset. Kawser was scared, but she was trying to be brave for the sake of her children.

  It was the following day that she saw elderly Elsie walk with her shopping in her hand trolley along the street. All the questions that were running riot in her mind could be answered with a conversation with the streets oldest resident. That afternoon Kawser invited Elsie to the park, she sat with her on the bench.

  “Have you heard the name Lizzy before?” asked Kawser.

  “Sure, that’s what they called Elizabeth.”

  “Elizabeth who?” Kawser was now curious.

  “Elizabeth Blades silly, the lady whose house you bought.”

  “But isn’t she living in a nursing home somewhere?” asked Kawser.

  Elsie smiled softly. “No love, she died a few months ago, her son Frank invited me to the funeral.”

  “So, Elizabeth Blades is dead?” asked Kawser double checking that she understood.

  “Yes, a few months ago now,” repeated Elsie.

  “Do you believe in ghosts?” asked Kawser quietly in a whisper even though no one else was around them.

  “No love, why do you ask?”

  “I don’t think Lizzy or Elizabeth Blades has passed on,” said Kawser.

  “What! Why?” asked Elsie who had turned to face her with a furrow in her brow.

  “Well, it’s just that Saima seems to have an invisible friend that doesn’t like me to speak with her. When I catch her sometimes, she whispers so fast. I thought she used to be playing with dolls, but her dolls aren’t there and well now I don’t know what to think.”

  “Oh love, you are stressed that’s all,” reassured Elsie as she reached out a hand to rest on her neighbor’s arm.

  “Raising a family isn’t easy,” said Elsie.

  “I know, but I would feel so much better if maybe I could talk to Frank,” said Kawser.

  “The thing with Frank is that he lives in some sort of commune and well, I can’t contact him. I was convinced that his mom’s funeral would be the last time I would see that boy. I saw him grow. Like I’m watching your kids now,” said Elsie turning her face to watch the children run and play. Kawser gaze lingered on the old woman face, how many people or entities were watching her children, she felt herself grow cold.

  “Elsie, I know I sound crazy but I think Lizzy, the dead woman, is in touch with my daughter. I can’t help but feel like they are planning something. Something that they aren’t willing to tell me.”

  Kawser put her head in her hands and felt the burden resting heavily on her shoulders. No one seemed to understand.

  “Well look, if I speak with Frank for whatever reason I will ask him to contact you,” said Elsie.

  “Thank you, and can you do me a favor, can you tell me about her?”

  “What about? Lizzy, Mrs. Blades?”

  “Yes.”

  “She was married to George who was the most miserable man you would have ever met. He died you know, killed himself in the garage. After his death, Frank came and well she seemed a little happier. Lizzy had it tough you know. She was married to a very tough man and well, to be honest, she wasn’t the same after she lost her daughter. After that she had Frank and well, they seemed okay, but she spent her life walking on eggshells around that man of hers.”

  Kawser had stopped listening, she only heard Elsie words telling her that she had lost her daughter.

  “What do you mean she lost her daughter?”

  “She was pregnant and slipped in the snow. Oh Kawser, it was the saddest thing you’d ever see. The blood was everywhere. They took her to hospital, but there was nothing that they could do.”

  Kawser pulled her jacket closer around her body, why hadn’t she thought about speaking with Elsie earlier?

  “It was too late; the baby was gone and well Mr. Blades lost his sense of humor when that happened. She wasn’t far off delivery either, but it was so sad the baby was gone. It could possibly have been the thing that broke them.”

  “What do you mean that broke them?”

  “Well they weren’t a happy couple you know and in the end he just tolerated her. Goodness knows what his mindset was like when he hung himself in the garage. He couldn’t have been well.”

  Kawser wanted to throw up.

  “Mr. Blades hung himself in the garage?” asked Kawser again, trying to make sure she understood.

  “Yes. Unfortunately, my dear. None of us were aware of his state of mind. I’m sure one of us would have stepped up and tried to understand what he was thinking, but he was the sort of man to keep to himself so we couldn’t have guessed. Because we didn’t know. No one did anything to help. I mean I wish I could have helped in some way,” she said that with a tear in her eye. “But that is what you always think after tragedy strikes.”

  “So, Mr. Blades died in the garage, and Mrs. Blades, Lizzy, died a few months ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, so we started to notice strange things about a few months ago. The house was fine for the nine years before, but I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel safe,” confessed Kawser.

  “Oh love, it’s nothing. Ghosts don’t exist!” said Elsie.

  “But they’ve both passed away,” said Kawser. “It can’t be a coincidence that Saima has an invisible friend called Lizzy.”

  “Lizzy can be Lisa, or maybe its Izzy short for Isabel, it doesn’t mean it’s necessarily Elizabeth and old people pass away all the time love, that’s called the circle of life. You young ones pop them out and us old ones pop our clogs.”

  Kawser smiled, the older lady was trying to give her some piece of mind, but she wasn’t sure she could write it off so simply. The thing she took away from the conversation was Elsie belief that ghosts don’t exist. Anytime she felt she wasn’t sure she was going to recite that to herself.

  Both the ladies hadn’t noticed that Saima had moved closer to them, she had been trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  When Mr. Sullivan came on Saturday at twelve Kawser gave the children change from her purse and sent them to the sweet shop. She wanted the children far away from the conversation of putting the house on the market. She was beginning to get desperate to sell the house. Kawser tried not think about it, but the sudden recovery of Saima from the tummy bug seemed convenient, especially when Uncle Waleed had gone. There was no one around to support them. What would Waleed say if she told him that Saima was pretending to play with her dolls in her bedroom, but also trying to make sure that no one noticed her whispering into the corners? Kawser wanted to ask her who she was speaking to, but she feared the answer. The more Kawser thought about it, the more she wanted to be out of the house as fast as they possibly could.

  Saima had looked up at Mr. Sullivan entering the house, while they were leaving. All the other children were oblivious, but Saima was watching him, she noted his arrival. Kawser nudged Rashid to observe their daughter’s reaction.

  The house h
ad been their dream. They moved in and with the arrival of their first child, life progressed smoothly. Rashid thought about how when you had children time moved fast. He watched his daughter grow and crawl as they settled into the home making it their own, they could barely believe that it was theirs, it was magical. Years passed, and soon another child came, and then another. They were a total of five and Rashid was the head of his happy family. Three young children to take care of, his family was complete. But now they needed to leave, because somehow the past had started to claim their happy home.

  The other children tried to avoid the cracks of the pavement, but Saima walked with solid determination she wanted to get to the shop, buy their sweets, and get home. Saima wanted to know what her parents were planning, and who that man was who had come to the house. She wasn’t happy not knowing.

  “Look it’s the paving slab,” shouted Idris as he jumped up and down on it.

  “Come on,” barked Saima.

  He hung his head and stopped before picking up the pace to walk behind her.

  “Do you think your nightmare was fixed by the tummy bug?” asked Idris.

  “No, I think my nightmare is a different one now,” said Saima.

  “Tell me about it?” asked Idris. He was intrigued that his sister could have another one and not tell him.

  “No,” said Saima.

  He hung his head even lower. He didn’t like her, not since she had been sick, her personality changed. He couldn’t talk to her anymore. None of the things that he did with her ever made her laugh anymore and she never wanted to play with him.

  On the way home, they saw a chick with a damaged wing on the ground. The children crowded around it.

  Idris bent down preparing to cup his hands around its body.

  “We should take it home. Dad can fix him.”

  Saima looked at them both, Laila was agreeing with Idris and encouraging him.

  “Don’t touch it,” shouted Saima aloud, throwing her sweets on the ground. Both the other children stopped and looked at her. The birds chirp punctuating their conversation.

  “Why not he needs help?” asked Laila as she eyed her little sister wearily.

  “He won’t live,” declared Saima just as vehemently.

  “It’s just his wing Saima, it’s nothing else. Dad can help him, Idris is right,” said Laila nudging her brother to carry on.

  “No, he can’t. He won’t survive we should put him down,” said Saima. “He needs to be killed,” she declared raising her leg in the air.

  “No, no, no,” said Idris, but he was already too late. The foot with the black shoe had smashed down on the ground with a sickening thud. The youngest girl did not raise her foot. Instead, she locked her knee and turned her foot right to left making sure the job was done properly.

  Her brother and sister took a step back, their eyes and jaws wide open. Tears brewed in the corner of Idris eyes and Laila backed away further. The stood in shock, knowing that this was a pivotal moment in their childhood.

  “That was cruel,” said Laila with a tear in her eye.

  Idris just looked at her and shook his head. He didn’t recognize this brutal younger sister, gone was the scared and frail one he would always protect.

  Saima smiled at him, but it wasn’t Saima smiling, it was Lizzy.

  “Are you going to cry?” she taunted.

  “No!” said Idris before taking off in a sprint running the rest of the way home.

  It had the desired effect, all the children rushed home just in time to overhear the conversation between their parents and Mr. Sullivan.

  16

  Argument

  The children lay in their beds while Rashid read them a bedtime story. It was always his favorite part of the night, the time at which he bid them goodnight and tucked them into bed. His time with his children. He took out the large green book that had all the fairy tales and flipped the pages to the story he was yet to read them as the children got comfortable. He noticed how they had moved away from Saima. Even Laila who shared a bed with her had moved away putting space between them. Saima looked like she wasn’t interested in hearing a story, and when her questions began he knew he had read her odd behavior correctly.

  “Daddy, who was that man?” asked Saima.

  She lay on her back, with her arms tucked under her head. She was wearing her favorite pink nightdress and had the blankets pulled up to her chest.

  “Which man darling?” he knew exactly which man.

  “The man who came to visit you when we went to the sweet shop?”

  “Daddy’s thinking about doing business with him,” said Rashid wondering if he could brush the conversation off. But then he thought about the question, even Laila hadn’t asked him about the man, and she was his eldest. “Why do you ask Saima?”

  “Because I don’t want you to sell this house. It’s our home,” said Saima.

  “Really? What if I wanted to sell it?” asked Rashid testing her reaction.

  “I don’t want you to sell it and neither does Lizzy, she doesn’t want us to go,” said Saima.

  “And who is Lizzy?” he asked, his adams apple gulped and he felt his mouth dry up. Why he needed to ask her he was unsure, he already knew the answer.

  “I can’t tell you. . .but she’s my friend. She doesn’t want me to speak about her.”

  “Well I’m your Daddy, and so I have the right to know who your friends are. This is my house, not hers. If I want to sell it I will,” said Rashid.

  He wasn’t going to back down he wanted answers. She turned onto her left-hand side showing him her back, she wasn’t interested in hearing the story he planned to read the others. Saima was thinking of her father’s words.

  ‘How could this be his house, Lizzy always told her it was her house,’ Saima thought to herself. Also, if her daddy did sell the house then Lizzy would be here alone, well not alone but with her husband who she didn’t like. Lizzy and her husband weren’t like her mom and Dad, Lizzy always said that her husband was a bad man, but he never left the garage. Saima knew the day he left the garage, Lizzy would leave. She was already very upset. Saima was always trying to make her laugh or smile, but it took a lot of work to get that type of reaction from her. Now with this news, she had no doubt Lizzy would be even angrier. Saima wondered what she could do to make the old woman calm down. She felt suddenly very tired of her situation. Lizzy was a hard friend to have, always upset and angry about something. Little Saima wracked her brain wondering what it would take to make Lizzy calm down, what could she do, what could she offer. Sleep claimed her while she was lost in thought about the problem of Lizzy.

  In her dream Saima saw herself with her family again, sitting around the picnic table in the park, but her attention was attracted to the dried up oak tree with no leaves. Not wanting to look at it, she knew that in any moment Lizzy would appear and call her over. Saima wanted to concentrate on enjoying her time with her family until her ears felt like they were beginning to fill with water and she no longer felt connected. Glancing to the oak tree in the distance, she saw the silhouette of Lizzy standing under the tree. Saima knew that she needed to go and speak with the dead woman.

  “Well, that’s it is it?” said Lizzy standing over her.

  Her white hair a shocking contrast to the two sockets of black that were in place of her eyes.

  From the safety of the park, the scenery changed, and they were standing in the front garden of the house on a dark and stormy day.

  “You’re going to leave me here with him,” said Lizzy pointing toward the back of the house.

  Saima knew she was pointing to the garage.

  “I’m sorry Lizzy,” started Saima.

  “Sorry? Sorry? We’re going to be separated, and you’re sorry? You don’t know how to be a friend Saima that’s your problem,” said Lizzy turning away from her.

  Saima was wondering if she had got off lightly, was this the only reaction she was going to have from an angry Lizzy?


  She held her breath.

  Then with one swift movement, the old woman’s hand stiffened before traveling at speed through the air. With a loud clap it met with the little girl’s cheek. Saima felt the impact as if cold air had touched her, and the sting of weight as she tried to move her jaw.

  “Sorry Lizzy, I’m sorry. . .” she said backing against the door. “If there’s anything I can do–”

  “Stop him!”

  “Who? Your husband?”

  “No stupid,” hissed the ghost. “Your father.”

  “How? I’m just a child.”

  “Yes, but a resourceful and clever one. You need to find a way to stop him,” hissed Lizzy, bringing her face close to Saima.

  She felt the coolness of the old woman’s breath against her face, the rancid smell of rotting made her want to throw up. Her mom had never hit her she thought as she raised her hand to her cheek. Lizzy was angrier than Saima had ever seen her before.

  “Dad says it’s his house and if he wants to sell it, then it’s up to him,” said Saima, trying to defend herself.

  “Do you want to leave me?” asked the old woman, her mood immediately changed. Saima moved a little closer to her, she didn’t want to, but this was how their relationship went. Lizzy and Saima would argue and then Saima would try and calm her down, only this time Lizzy had slapped her, that was new and scary.

  “I will think of a way that will make your father stay here. I know you are just a child and maybe you are stupid,” said Lizzy.

  Saima didn’t like being called stupid, but she didn’t argue with her, not when her temper was so volatile. Lizzy left her and Saima felt herself falling into a black hole in her dream, but she didn’t mind because she was alone. In the morning, she turned her face on her pillow, the stinging feeling was there, it woke her up.

  She touched the curve of her cheek, and even that slight touch made her wince. She opened her eyes and saw Laila looking at her, her eyes were wide and full of fear.