Granny Simmons

The year was 1978 and the stars twinkled overhead. Jeff sipped on warm beer and growled.

“I can’t believe I forgot my fucking cooler.” His girlfriend, Sandra, rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry about that babe,” Sandra said. “We’re both out here alone.” Jeff smiled, while wrapping his arm around Sandra, and pulling her against his hard body. She gazes up at the shimmering stars above and utters ooh’s and ah’s.

“Don’t you feel so small in the grand scheme of things?” Sandra asked. Jeff shakes his head.

“I don’t really think about it,” Jeff responds.

“I’d love to be an astronomer,” Sandra says. Jeff belched.

“I’d love another beer.” She shook her head.

“You can be so boorish at times,” Sandra said. Jeff got up, reached into his book bag, and pulled out another beer. He cracked it open and took a sip. He walked back over to the campfire. The crickets chirp. Darkness fills the forest. Jeff sits down and places his arm back around Sandra.

“This is a perfect night for a ghost story,” Jeff said with a grin. Sandra turned around to face Jeff.

“Oh please,” Sandra begged, her hazel eyes shimmering.

“Ten years ago,” began Jeff. “Granny Simmons took a hatchet.”

“That’s enough,” Sandra said. “I swear to God, I’ll break up with you.” Jeff rolled his eyes.

“This is the ten-year anniversary of Granny Simmons butchering those two campers. Sandra shivered.

“I don’t want to think about that.”

“They say her ghost still haunts these woods,” Jeff whispered. Sandra let out a scream.

“Jesus, babe you almost gave me a heart attack,” said Jeff. Sandra smiled.

“I guess we’re even then.” Sandra said with a smiled.

“I’ll be back Jeff whispers,” Jeff whispers. “Nature calls.” Jeff heads off into the woods. Sandra watches the fire. After a significant amount of time passes, Sandra stands up, and calls out.

“Jeff? You, okay?” There was no reply. She heads off toward the direction she saw Jeff wander off to earlier. A figure emerges from the shrubbery, and Sandra screams, only to find Jeff.

“Oh, thank God,” Sandra said. “I was worried something happened.”

“I wasn’t gone that long,” Jeff said. Sandra let out a sigh, her breast rising, and falling.

“I guess that your story got to me,” Sandra admitted.

“It was just a stupid story,” Jeff told her. “Don’t let it get to you.”

A little while later, Jeff doused the fire, and Sandra and he retired to their tent for sleep. They fell asleep and Sandra began to dream. She screamed as she found Jeff’s head rolled up in a sleeping bag. Sandra woke up sweating and still screaming. All the while Jeff remained asleep. She rolled over and wrapped her arm around Jeff’s waist. His rhythmic brought comfort to Sandra. She started to fall back asleep when she heard the tent being unzipped.

“Jeff,” Sandra said, shaking her sleeping boyfriend. She cried out and continued to watch the tent being opened.

“Jeff!” she shouted with alarm. “Some is trying to break into our tent.

Jeff woke up, and a silhouette began to become visible through the wall of the tent. The figure appeared to have long stringy hair; it also seemed to be holding a hatchet. They held each other, feared for their lives, and even felt each other shudder. Then the figure seemed to leave. The zipper was left halfway between open and closed.

“Let’s get out of here,” whispered Sandra. Her heart was beating so fast it sounded like a hummingbird.

Jeff stuck his head out of the tent. Suddenly a hatchet chopped off his head! Sandra screamed, as the ghost of Granny Simmons burst into the tent, with a bloody hatchet in her hand. Sandra’s screams linger and then taper off. Soon the woods fall silent again, as silent as they had done ten years prior.