scifrey:

writing-prompt-s:

elidyce:

the-erikalypse:

writing-prompt-s:

A single mom moves into a new apartment with her young son, only to find out it’s inhabited by a poltergeist. At first she’s spooked, but comes to realize that the poltergeist is helping to raise her son.

I’d watch it.

It’s like ‘The Others’, except that everyone just kind of… gets used to seeing each other. There are two families sharing one house, and okay, one family is a bit dead, but they’re all figuring things out as they go and it’s super handy to have a spare parent or two around.

*

“Mom, I’m home!” 

“She’s out shopping, go do your homework.”

“Aunt Ingrid, they didn’t even HAVE homework when you were alive, why are you BUGGING me – “ 

“When I was alive we churned butter instead of our mother going to the store to buy it, do you want to learn how to churn butter?”

“Fine, okay, homework it is.” 

*

“David, don’t walk through the walls.”

“Opening the door is too hard.”

“Then walk through the DOOR like your sister. Respect the conventions at least.”

“Fiiiiiinnne…” 

*

“Mom, what are you doing?”

“Fixing the fence.” 

“Uncle Roger, are you possessing my mom?”

“We tried just having me tell her how to do it, but it was taking too long and she got frustrated.” 

“It’s WEIRD, though.”

“Do you want to do this?”

“No, I – “

“Too late. Come and learn how to fix this. You’re the man of the house now.”

“NOBODY SAYS THAT ANY MORE, UNCLE ROGER.”

*

“Did you have a fight with David?”

“No.”

“Then why are you both making that face?”

“There’s no FACE.”

“That’s what he said.” 

“We didn’t have a FIGHT, okay…”

“Aunt Ingrid is worried, she says he’s been moping all morning. He’s barely visible half the time.” 

“Look, we didn’t have a fight, I just asked him how he died and then it got weird.” 

“STEVE YOU DO NOT ASK PEOPLE HOW THEY DIED THAT IS SO RUDE.” 

“Mom, it came up, okay, it wasn’t just out of nowhere!”

“YOU APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW.” 

“Steve! David! Isobel! Who broke this vase?”

“Meteor did it.”

“It was not the dog! Which one of you was throwing things in the house?”

“No, really, Mom, it was Meteor.”

“And how did the dog get up on the mantlepiece?”

“Uh…”

“ISOBEL WERE YOU LEVITATING THE DOG AGAIN?”

*

“This is completely inaccurate.” 

“Roger…”

“I mean, look at those clothes. I’ve never seen *anyone* dressed like that.”

“They weren’t very careful about accurate costuming in these old movies.”

“I read ALL the Sherlock Holmes stories when they were first published and I ASSURE you he was a GENTLEMAN, not like – “

“Roger, will you just let us watch the moving pictures in peace?”

“But they’re WRONG.”

“We don’t care. Shush.”

*Roger mutters about bossy women and levitates popcorn*

*

“Steve, what happened to your face?”

“I got into a fight.” 

“I would surmise from your bruises that you lost.”

“I always lose.”

“Oh, we can’t have that! Come, I will teach you the manly art of fisticuffs.”

“ROGER NO.”

*

“Aunt Ingrid, can you teach me how to make pie?”

“Of course I can… why? I know boys do a lot of things now that girls used to, I understand that, but why pie?”

“I like pie.”

“I can make you a pie if you just want to eat pie.”

“… Ava likes pie too.”

“That girl who lives down the street?”

“Yeah…”

“Then I’ll help you make the pie. What kind?”

“She likes cherry.” 

This is beautiful. I love it!

When I was young enough that I was still babysitting, the toddler I was looking after loved Blues Clues and a soother he was supposed to be giving up.

His parents kept it in a childproofed cabinet when it wasn’t allowed in bed, but somehow it was in his bed each morning.

He asked me for it one night as I put him to bed. I told him it wasn’t allowed at night, those were the rules. He pouted and huffed and finally said, “I like my other babysitter better. She always gets when I ask.”

“What babysitter? I’m your only one,” i reminded him.

“The lady from the walls,” he said then rolled over and pouted some more and eventually I rubbed his back enough that he dropped off.

I won’t say that the air got cold or I felt like I was being watched. But I mean. I lived in one of the purportedly most haunted towns in Ontario. I’ve seen the ghost in the Theatre from the stage, and spotted the one in the Museum as I drove by one night. I say “excuse me” when I’m in That Room in each house or building.

I brought it up to the parents when they got back, the mother huffed like her son and rolled her eyes.

“Why do you think we’re moving?” She asked me. “Its hard to reinforce the rules when youre being undermined by a ghost.”