The Girl on the Stair

My father told me this story from when I was just a baby. We lived with my grandfather in a house with a sad past. Long ago, a terrible sickness took a family who lived there, a mother and her three children.

One afternoon, my mother and I went to the market. My father was in the backyard garden and did not see us leave. He came inside to get a drink and saw a small boy sitting on the bottom step of the staircase. The boy looked about my age and asked for some milk.

My father went to the kitchen, poured a glass of milk, and walked back toward the stairs. Just then, he heard a car pull into the driveway. He set the milk on a small table by the door and went to look. It was my mother and me, returning home earlier than he expected.

My father turned back to the staircase to check on the little boy. The step was empty, and the glass of milk was gone.