Fiction logo

Ghost For Sale

Though It's More Of An "Adopt-ation"

By Kelli Sheckler-AmsdenPublished 3 years ago • Updated 3 years ago • 2 min read

It's that time

it's the season

I've got an eye on the prize

and a myriad of reasons

*

Every year, right on time

there comes a change in the air,

As the moon starts to rise

begins my ghosts savoir faire

*

It starts with a tickle

and my mind starts to race

My throat holds a giggle

and it shows on my face

*

I lose all control

as the spirit takes over

it replaces my soul

and becomes the composer

*

So, this year, I decided

to take my life back

To keep from being divided

and knocked out of whack

*

I set up a trap, in a velvety box

to entice my ghost in, then, went to hide

I lured him in, like a sly stealthy fox

trapping him safely, inside

*

He wasn't too happy

I could tell by his face

His scowls were quite crappy

he wiggled all over the place

*

I tried to feel sorry

gave him a sad pouty look

But he got kind of scary

like, from a Stephan King book

*

I had never seen him like this before

his face turned every kind of color

He began to violently slam all my doors

turned the clouds in the sky, to a squaller

*

I covered the box, gently

turned some soft music on

Hoping if I was friendly

the conclusion, foregone

*

But instead he grew misty

and tried to escape

I pulled out my E cig

and started to vape

*

I blew him back into the box

and I wrapped it in plastic

Poured some whiskey on rocks

made me feel fantastic

*

But it only served to make him more angry

he levitated the box to the ceiling

He threw himself downward, directed at me

the collision sent my head, quickly reeling

*

I held up the box

and looked in his eyes

It had all been paradox

I needed a better devise

*

When I smiled, he shuddered

he knew that I'd had enough

Under my breath I muttered

you're gonna pay for that guff

*

He shook and he shimmied

to break away from my grasp

This lock can't be jimmied

I'd buckled it with a clasp

*

I held him up to my face

and I gave him a wink

I grabbed some things from my place

and with no time to think

*

I ran to the corner of Everest and vine

where the mute fortune teller kept a shop

She indicated that everything would be fine

keep him locked in the box, till the swap

*

The swap is the kicker, cause here we are

me selling this ghost

Like some jam, in a jar

that you could calm down, with some tasty toast

*

I hide the box as the people pass by

now, don't I feel like a chump

I softly let out a sigh, with a tear in my eye

as he looks at me with the eyes of a pup

*

I'll never forget it

but I opened the box

and I'll probably regret it

and out he pops

*

Swirling around, high above my head

with this, I ate the cat, smile on his face

I guess I've decided to keep him instead

My space will always be his place

Fan Fiction

About the Creator

Kelli Sheckler-Amsden

Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition

If you like what you read, feel free to leave a tip, I would love some feedback

Find me on twitter @kelli7958958

or facebook

Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment
    Written by Kelli Sheckler-Amsden