Ghost stories from Apparitions

The Bookmark

The house on Hemlock Lane had never felt sinister to me. It was a two-story Victorian with a wrap-around porch and a garden that Mrs. Alvarez tended with obsessive care....

The Concrete Meadow

In 1987, my family moved into a brand-new development on the outskirts of Tucson, Arizona. The house was a sprawling single-story with a stucco facade and a red tile roof,...

The Hum Under the Burials

My grandmother’s house sat on a flat stretch of prairie, ten miles from the nearest town, with a dozen low, grassy hummocks scattered across the property like the backs of...

The Chandelier’s Cradle

The night we learned of Lena’s passing, the air in my Aunt Marisela’s Victorian home turned thick as grave dirt. Lena, my cousin’s stepdaughter, had been found in her cramped...

The Glass Door Listener

In the winter of 2011, my cousin Emily moved into a brand-new subdivision on the outskirts of Boulder, Colorado. The houses were identical, all pale siding and rectangular windows, and...

The Last Crossing

I remember the summer of ’89, when I was nine, my family moved into a farmhouse on the edge of a town that was already dying. The house was a...

The Bell at Six-Thirty

When I first moved into the old Beacon Hill boarding house, I thought the creaks and groans were just the building settling. The previous tenant, a reclusive clockmaker, had left...

The Last Patient

Our house sits on a quiet, tree-lined street in the outskirts of Millbrook, a town that prides itself on its history. We moved here when I was eleven, just before...

The Fourth Floor Archives

It began with a key. Not a skeleton key, but one of those small, unassuming ones that open filing cabinets in forgotten offices. My girlfriend, Mira, had just started her...

The Fourth Hour Vigil

I never believed in the lingering dead. Not until the summer I housesat for my aunt in the old farmhouse outside of Bleak Hollow. The house had been in her...

The Crawlspace Chime

When I returned to Charleston, South Carolina after years away, I found that my sister, Marisol, had purchased a sprawling Victorian house on the edge of the historic district. From...

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