The church on the hill is haunted.
At least, that is the folk law.
It sits on the hill and I pass it almost every day
and sometimes I walk by it.
The big kids shudder and tell me not to go near,
that there is a ghost, who looks through the keyhole
if you dare to peek inside.
I’ve never looked.
I’m not sure if I believe in ghosts
but I believe in history and apparently this building has one
or at least, there is a story to its existence.
One about a fire and somebody being caught in there.
I do believe that there is an eery feeling that cloaks the little church.
A few weeks ago we walked up there and as we approached the inside lights flickered on and off
and the church began to exude a burnt, smokey smell.
Enough to make your nose wrinkle and sting a bit.
Enough to give me goosebumps as I walked away,
or rather as the kids pulled me, both arms, hurriedly.
Too shaken to look back.
I’m not sure if it’s true,
if it is haunted
but I could swear I heard the bell ringing in the still of the night
and it made me wonder if the stories were real.
Do you believe in ghosts?