“Before you get upset, ask your son why he wanted them taken down.”
I went to Owen’s room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at the floor.
“Because of the ghost.”
I crouched in front of him. “Honey, did you ask Grandma to take down your decorations?”
He was quiet for a few seconds. Then he finally answered.
“Yes,” he whispered. “But only because of the ghost.”
I blinked.
“What ghost, sweetheart?”
“The one that comes at night.”
“It knocked on my window.”
I sat beside him.
Owen explained that three nights earlier, he’d woken up and seen someone standing near our porch. The figure was completely white, with no visible face.
“I thought it was somebody wearing a Halloween costume,” he said. “But then it came back.”
The second night, the figure stood directly beneath his bedroom window, staring up at him.
“And last night, it knocked on my window three times.”
