By Katie Kirsch
There’s this ghost in my closet, but nobody believes me. I told my parents, the police and even my little sister. Did they believe me? No way! They told me I had a nightmare, and that I couldn’t have a ghost in my closet. He wakes me up at night with his freaky whistle, and he hides spiders in my clothes. Why don’t they believe me? You should ask them yourself. Who else would make thumping noises in my closet at 12:13 every night? Who else would constantly steal my socks and shoes? Who else could I have seen when I saw something white in the mirror, but when I turned around I saw nothing? It’s the ghost, of course, and I think that’s a little obvious. It’s been living off my clothes in my closet for as long as I can remember. He watches and spies on me with his white goggles while I sleep, dreaming my dreams and hearing my thoughts. One night, while I woke up at his usual 12:13 thumping, I saw his goggles on the closet floor. I saw them with my own eyes! But then I blinked, and boy do I regret it, because in that little millisecond they disappeared. I never saw them again. Another night, at 11:14, BAM went the closet door. WHOOSH went the wind, and I heard the garage door open and close. So he left that night, but I just know he’ll be back. He’ll be back to spy on me with his freaky goggles, make thumping noises at 12:13, turn up in my mirror, hide spiders in my clothes, whistle spookily at night, and steal my shoes and socks. Only next time will be different - next time I’ll be ready.

















