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The Haunted_Edit Copy 4-7-17

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“Well, I mean, I’ll probably have to work Saturday morning.<br />

I don’t know ...” I trailed off as I realized my words were vacuuming<br />

the happiness right off of his face. Serious guilt nailed me in the gut.<br />

I hadn’t seen my dad so enthusiastic about anything since the<br />

divorce. He was constantly working his butt off just to keep some<br />

kind of security for Gunner and me. And here I was shooting down<br />

the first thing he wanted to do for himself in a solid six months.<br />

Hoping that he would forgive my total assholeishness, I said,<br />

“You know what, forget work. I can get my Saturday switched. I’d<br />

love to go, Dad.”<br />

It was like flipping a switch and turning the lights on. <strong>The</strong><br />

smile sprang back onto his face and he leaned down to hug me.<br />

“Great! I would have brought your brother, but you have to be over<br />

eighteen. I know you’ll enjoy it, Chels. It’s not like a horror movie,<br />

I promise.”<br />

I winced as his beard scraped my cheek and patted his arm<br />

tentatively. I had seen him watching the shows on TV; I had a basic<br />

idea of what ghost hunting was supposed to be about. From my<br />

understanding, it was a bunch of dudes creeping around some<br />

ancient buildings that had tons of reports of people being tormented<br />

by spirits. It was pretty much like, “Hey, I hear that some lady got<br />

pushed down the stairs here by something she can’t see. I’m going<br />

to come in and try to figure out who this ghost is and why they’re<br />

being a royal pain.”<br />

But I wanted my dad to be happy, especially since it was his<br />

birthday. And if this was going to do it, then so be it. I would grow<br />

a pair for the night. Or at least pretend to, for his sake.<br />

Finally, he let me go and bounded off, probably to go find<br />

Gunner and tell him about it, even though he was too young to come.<br />

My brother would probably think it was seriously the coolest thing<br />

ever. He had totally inherited my dad’s love of the creepy, crawly<br />

stuff.<br />

That was how, on June 2 at 5:45, I scurried quickly after my<br />

dad through the doors of <strong>The</strong> End Shelf. My head was bowed so my<br />

hair would hang around my face, just in case anyone I knew<br />

2

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