inkling teen magazine 2021 - Flipbook - Page 10
When you tell your parents about the
chess game later that night, your dad jokes
about it being a ghost. Your mom laughs,
but you frown. You never considered that.
The rest of your night is spent googling
how to catch a ghost.
When you arrive at your grandparents'
house the next day, it's with a Polaroid
camera hanging around your neck and a
fully charged phone in your back pocket.
The attic is silent as always, but once again,
a piece on the chess set has been moved.
You turn on the camera and try taking
some pictures, but nothing happens. It's
not until you sit in front of the chess set
that you notice something different.
Nothing too obvious, just a shift in the
light, and a spot where the lingering traces
of dust don't touch.
You raise the camera so fast you almost
drop it. The click of the shutter is loud in
the silence of the attic, and you wait
eagerly for the photo to develop. Then the faint trace of a face appears, framed by
a wispy braid and a soft smile.
You clutch the photo in your hand, eyes
wide with surprise. When you look up
though, the spot is empty, sunlight
streaming through the window in its
regular pattern, the dust floating freely
again.
"A ghost," you whisper.
The photo stays at the bottom of your
desk drawer, hidden and secret. You don't
show it to anyone, because you know
they'll laugh, and this feels too private for
that.
A week later, you find yourself staring at
INKLING | PAGE 8
an empty attic, save for a final box and the
chess set, still set up on the rickety table.
There's only one move left to make, and
you already know you're going to lose.
Pushing back the sudden bittersweet
feeling threatening to overwhelm you, you
turn back to the box. The word 'Photos' is
scribbled across it, and a cloud of dust
rises out from inside the box when it's
opened.
Gingerly picking up the first photo, you
turn it over, only to almost drop it again.
You stare in shock at the woman pictured,
then race down the stairs, shouting for
your Gramma. She meets you at the
bottom of the stairs, surprised.
"Who is this?", you demand, shoving the
photo into her hands. She takes it, then
smiles, but it's a sad look.
"My sister," she says. "She died young, but
we loved her dearly. She was a chess
expert, you know. Nobody could beat her."
You stumble backward
suddenly dizzy.
into
a
chair,
The girl in the photo is an exact match to
the one hidden in your desk at home.
Abby is the 2nd
place winner in
the Short Story
category for this
year's Teen
Writing Contest.
