Ghost stories from American Samoa

The Bamboo Grove Pact

My brother Leo and I had never stayed in one place long enough to call it home. Dad’s tours bounced us from Hawaii to California and back again, each base...

The Mangrove Pact

The tide never fully retreated from the village of Pala Lagoon, not the way it did elsewhere. The water clung to the roots of the mangroves like a stubborn memory,...

The Groaning Oak

I never used to mind the dark. My bedroom faced the backyard, where an ancient oak tree sprawled against the night sky. I’d fall asleep to the creak of its...

The Grey Tiled Room

When I was eight years old, my family moved to the small town of Millbrook. My new primary school, Lakeview Primary, was a sprawling, brick building with long, drafty corridors....

The Salted Timber

My grandmother, Elara, had built this house with her own hands, every beam and nail chosen to her liking. She was a woman of quiet superstitions, and the house reflected...

The Knocking in the Study

Ever since Aunt Marta moved in, our old Victorian on Maple Street felt different. The study, once a cluttered den of my father’s forgotten projects, had been cleared and readied...

The Last Matinee

My name is Elara, and this happened when I was a senior at Ridgemont High. I was the middle child of three, and my parents had split when I was...

The Green Stain

It started with a coin that fell from nowhere, a 1977 dime with a greenish stain, like verdigris on an old penny. My name is Sam, and I lived in...

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Listening to the woods...