I found a fun writing prompt at Writer’s Digest. As always, I don’t believe in ghosts, but I surely do find them entertaining to write.
Hope you enjoy!
I never would have married you if I’d have known you would kill me, my dear Thomas.
When Father and Mother insisted that I accept your invitation to the annual Lewisburg Debutant Ball, I should have declined.
But I went.
And you stole my heart with your charming smile. Your blue eyes that crinkled when you laughed. That timbre in your voice when you told me that you had loved me from the moment you first laid eyes on me.
I was told that you would make a fine husband. That, with your family name, you could provide me with everything that I was accustomed to having.
So we wed.
And you did give me everything, but in return for what?
At first I thought it was your unquenchable love for me that you kept me to yourself that first year. The next year I began to see that you were keeping me as your own caged bird. I missed my family and friends from high school, but you made me stay at the house. You carefully monitored my comings and goings, even if it were to the store.
You accused me of smiling too long at the post office clerk.
You accused me of enjoying the company of the milk man who came by our house every day.
Why Thomas? The man was more than twice my age. And I missed talking, simply conversing with other humans.
By the third year, Mother was sneaking over to visit. I would carefully slip out of the house to visit my sisters. And I incurred your wrath.
I began planning my escape. I had to leave, Thomas, dear. You had captured me. I had no other choice.
But you knew where I would be. You knew that I wouldn’t get further than my own family home. You caught me once again and brought me back to my prison.
Until that bleak afternoon, stormy and curtained with rain. Suitcase in hand, once again. This time I would not run home to Mother and Father. This time I had a bus ticket that would take me far away to a relative who promised that I could live with her. I could get a job. I could get a perspective. Because, in spite of everything, I still loved you, my Thomas.
Yet you came home early that day, and fatally caught me in my flight.
As you squeezed the last breath from my fragile body, you told me that I would never leave you again, and you were right.
You were right, my darling Thomas.
I’ve kept my promise as well, my dear.
For every night, I come back to visit you in phantasmal, amorphous form.
It is your turn to be imprisoned.
For I will never leave.