A Ghost's Torment

The winter storm's flurry of white snowflakes created a blanket over the exposed prison floor. Snow piled on the rubble that clogged the building, erasing the coat of dust that covered the scorched fragments. The roof bent inwards, the metal beams, stripped of the concrete ceiling, warped and curved away from the open sky as if a great weight was placed upon them. The ceiling itself crumbled into debris. The remnants of the kitchen were barely recognizable. The stove was burnt to a crisp, the corners of the melted frame dripped onto the floor before solidifying into a charred clump that fused to the floor. The inside was breaking off in flakes with even the lightest breeze.

Beyond the west side where the kitchen was located, remained in much better condition even though it was still damaged by the devastating fire. The halls, still cluttered with bricks that crumbled to the touch as well as the belongings of the prisoners that were left behind in their desperate attempt to run faster than the flames spread. A police report that came out later said the fire started due to a careless inmate who didn't notice he dropped a match while lighting his cigarette, they didn't want the truth to come out.

this was the prison that chained Judy's soul to the earth, trapping her from moving on She wandered the wrecked building, watching the elements seize the walls as vines crept up them, moss grew adjacent to the stain of rainwater cascading from above. Her pasty, semi-translucent fingers grazed the surface of the cell bars, the smoothness she once knew was now absent, just a faint pressure where the bars had rusted. Her mind drifted back to when she herself was locked behind them.

She remembered the fire as it trickled into the cellblock, the inmates pounded at the bars, begging to be let out of the locked cells even though no one could hear them. The two inmate across from Judy's cell took turns ramming their bodies into the bars in a desperate attempt to break the newly replaced locks. Flames blocked her view, they spread past the bars and into her cell, the heat radiating onto her as she balled herself up in the corner. Her hands covered her eyes to soothe her quaking body, as if the fire that was crawling closer on the wooden flooring would cease if she did not look.

A rattling sound pulled Judy from her memories. Through a hole in the wall she saw an old red truck pull into the prison's gravel lot, the headlights illuminating the layers of snow. The left headlight violently flickered as the car slowed to a stop. The passenger door flew open, causing the entire car to roll forward slightly. A girl hopped out, her blonde curly hair caught the falling snow as she walked to the truck bed, pulling out a red tool box. The driver met her there, he was rather short, wearing a red flannel with denim jeans. A third door slowly opened, a ginger haired boy stepped down. He seemed younger than the other two. After a brief discussion they walked towards prison gates. They had never been replaced after the fire, leaving the prison vulnerable for trespassers. They pushed the loose gates aside, climbing though before allowing it to recoil back. Crossing the courtyard they, shone flashlights across the devastated prison revealing the crumbling exterior.

They weren't close enough for Judy to hear their conversation, but she knew why they were here. It was always the same reason. A few so-called ghost hunters had visited the prison before. Bringing weird contraptions that they claimed would allow them to communicate with the dead ghosts roaming the world. Judy would watch them, basking in the slightest hint of paranormal life. She would keep her distance, just in case their contraptions did work. She didn't want to interact with anyone. Unlike the ghost stories she heard as a child, she didn't have the ability to shut doors or move objects. She was just a creature void of purpose, never seen, never heard, and never found.

When she first became aware she was a ghost, it had already been years since the fire wiped out the building. Any remnants of her human form, or anyone else's, had been long lost. She wandered the dilapidated halls for hours, trying to remember what it had looked like. She looked at herself in a shuddered mirror, the fragment projected a white figure, bright and full of life, for a ghost that is. As the years went by she became more and more translucent, not being able to see herself in that mirror at times. She tried to leave on multiple occasions, but she could not. A force unknown to her held her within the prison walls no matter how hard she pushed and yearned for freedom.

The three people reached the main entrance, Judy could see them closely now. They appeared young, still in high school. They pushed at the steel metal doors, which didn't budge. A rusted lock hung from them. The boy who drove the truck, the eldest Judy presumed, opened the toolkit and pulled out a thin piece of metal that she recognized as a lock pick. After several attempts the lock clicked open, falling to the cold snow. The door slowly yawned open. A low creak filled the lobby. The three flashlights swerved throughout the room, filling the darkness with their beams of light. Judy watched from the cracks along the other side of the wall, they scattered their tools onto the floor, mixing the rubble with them. She heard the distorted voices but she was unable to understand what they were saying.

Judy had noticed her inability to ever hear the humans clearly. It got worse over time, so did all of her senses. Her vision had gotten foggy, she could no longer smell, she hadn't tried taste but she assumed it would be the same. It annoyed her, not being able to hear the rain that helped her relax when she first arrived from the prison or the voices of visitors. Even if they were a nuisance, she still wished to be able to hear them.

She followed them as they explored. One held a black device that lit up in different colors as they walked, it had flashed green and yellow. Another held a thermometer, her voice eagerly pitching up as the thermometer dipped below freezing. The last one walked behind holding the toolbox and a camera that rested on his shoulder, the weight of it made him walk crooked.

A pile of rubble stood before them. It was the entrance to the kitchen that had collapsed. They climbed over it and pressed themselves through the small opening, and sliding down the other side into the charred room. Ash still coated the walls and snow piled overtop the collapsed roof. Their steps were imprinted in the snow as they explored. The box flashed red and Judy heard the damp beeping it created. She followed them into the kitchen, letting herself be closer than she would've wished. The girl yelled across the room as the thermometer dropped to just above its lowest point. The other excitedly hurried to pull out more of their gear as the girl continued to walk around waving the thermometer in the air. Judy had backed into a corner when the girl came closer and closer to her, until she was standing right in front of her. She knew the girl could not see her but it still felt like her hazel eyes pierced through her skin.

She continued talking to the others, causing them to rush to her side. Judy backed away, hoping to gain space, but to her surprise the girl followed her steps, instructing the others to do the same. Wanting to get away, Judy climbs back out of the kitchen, the others following her still. She walked quickly through the Labyrinth of hallways, turning in random directions, hoping to lose them. However, they still followed closely, chasing her down. One held a larger contraption, it's screen glowed a dull orange. It lit up every time he spoke into it, it's loud buzzing filled the hallway. In an attempt to lose them once and for all Judy ran toward the only locked room that was untouched by the fire, the warden's office. She flung her body into the door, the pressure was almost unbearable as she phased through. Winded, she stumbled to the floor, struggling to regain her composure. Footsteps slowed outside the door. The door knob jiggled, at first gently, before being ferociously shaken.

Silence overcame the room for what felt like forever, until the toolbox clattered to the ground and the metal tools inside were dug through. Metal pressed against the lock, clashing before a clicking noise took over. The lock turned open as Judy regained herself enough to stand up. The door swung open, hitting a broom that was propped up in the corner causing it to fall and clatter on the floor. They rushed to scan the room.

"Look! The temperature going back down, it must be in here," The girl said so clearly Judy looked at her in utter shock. The other nodded, looking around at the messy desk. A file sat closed surrounded by other papers.

"Ooo, look at this! I've always wanted to read a prisoner's file, " the older boy sat down in the chair, sending a cloud of dust up causing the others to cough, their eyes shifted to glare at him. Ignoring them, he opened the file.

"Judy Anderson," Judy's eyes widen at the mention of her name. "Inmate transferred November 23rd, 1921. Awaiting trial for murder"

Murder? Is that why I was imprisoned? She wondered. A police officer had arrested her late at night at a convenience store, refusing to tell her why. No one ever told her. She begged the guards to let her leave as she never did anything wrong, no reason to be arrested. Of course no one listened, they wouldn't have believed her if they did.

"Look at this girl, she's a total barf bag!" One teased as the others burst out in laugher. "That picture needs an apology, the prison uniform isn't doing her any good. It might of been better if they killed her instead of damaging our eyes with this."

"She defiantly doesn't look capable of killing someone, more like the victim really," the girl chimed in

Anger pulsed through every inch of her body, her fists clenched so tight that she started to feel a sense of pain from her nails pressing into her ghostly skin. Their laughs only angered her more as they continued to talk about her picture. In her enraged state she pressed her palms firmly into the ground. A crack pierced the wall, the three teenagers snapping their head to watch it spread in bursts. The wall began to shift, a low moan came from deep within the building. On the other side of the prison a crash echoed, as if more ceiling had come down. The three shared a look, clearly unsure of what to do. Weightless tears fell from Judy's eyes, Years of lost emotions poured into her all at once. The eldest ran out of the room when a creaking noise came from the wall behind them. The others followed, shrieking down the hallway. Judy followed them, her wails calling out to them. Their heads turned to look back, their eyes reflected Judy's pale shadow. Walls fell behind her, glass windows shattered as she past, the glass shooting across the room.

They retraced their steps until they reached the lobby, the doors had been sealed shut. They ran into it, clawing at the handle that wouldn't open. Judy watched from across the room, her face contorted into a broken smile.

The world went black around Judy as she heard the roar of destruction around her. She felt pieces of concrete pile onto her feet. Yet her vision blurred into a colored image. She was in a house, the walls of the kitchen were a honey yellow. She looked down at her hands, a knife rested in them, hanging above the carrots she had been cutting. Her sleeves ran down onto her wrists, yet a purple mark still protruded from the fabric. It still throbbed with pain. The marks ran up her arms, and into her back. Spots where she was hit were strategically covered, her husband would not allow her to show.

She heard the radio click on in the other room, a man's voice was talking about a women's activist strike. He was criticizing the women's suffrage movement and there request for voting rights.

"They are all hysterical, a women's job is to agree with her husband no matter what," the radio crackled.

She peered into the living room where her husband laid lazily onto the sofa, beer in hand.

"Go back to cooking, dinner is already late " He spewed.

The anger got to her mind before her thoughts did. It was too late to stop the knife from leaving her hands and into his skull. She never forgot the crunch it made, or the blood pouring onto the sofa. It would haunt her the rest of her life.

The prison was still afterwards. The entire building had fallen to dust. Judy walked on top of the remains, her eyes caught the reflection of the moonlight coming from a shard of glass. She held it up to the moon, She saw herself in the light, half faded, barely visible. she dropped to her knees, looking around at the rubble.

It was then she realized the destruction of her home would be the destruction of herself.