Each week, I send out a story via my email newsletter. Each story is around 1000 words, sometimes less, sometimes more. The stories are in a variety of genres: supernatural, thriller, sci-fi, horror, and sometimes romance, and all of my stories typically feature a gay protagonist.
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This is story number 30 of the series. Enjoy!
Bedroom Ghost
Nick’s bedroom, tucked away on the second floor of his parents’ old Craftsman-style house, felt like the safest place in the world. Posters of fantasy creatures and sci-fi heroes lined his walls, and the faint hum of the suburban street outside usually lulled him to sleep without any trouble. But tonight was different. Tonight, he couldn’t shake the eerie chill creeping up his spine, like someone was standing in the corner of his room, watching.
He flicked on the small desk lamp, heart thrumming in his chest. You know how sometimes a weird feeling just sits in the back of your head, making your stomach twist for no obvious reason? That was exactly where Nick was at—uneasy and tired, but too spooked to fully relax.
With his phone in one hand, he tried to focus on a text from Gabe, his best friend. Even seeing Gabe’s goofy emojis didn’t calm him down this time. The last time they got together at a local cafe, Nick had showed Gabe a few doodles he’d sketched in the margins of his notebook. Gabe had teased him for not paying attention in math class—affectionately, of course. Nick smiled at the memory. Despite the swirl of teenage drama and homework stress, Gabe was his rock. Gabe, with his easy laugh and the way he threw his arm around Nick’s shoulders like it meant nothing and everything all at once, was oblivious to the storm of feelings he stirred in Nick. Tonight, though, not even Gabe’s texts could derail the knot in Nick’s stomach.
A sudden rap on the window shattered the silence. Nick jumped, nearly dropping his phone. His bedroom overlooked a stretch of lawn, with hedges rustling softly in the breeze—but they were way too low for anyone to reach his window without a ladder. He moved to the window, heart pounding, and pulled back the curtain. There was nothing except the faint glow of the streetlamp outside.
Nick took a shaky breath. “Okay,” he muttered. “I’m probably tired. No reason to freak out.” But as he turned around, his breath caught in his throat.
A teenage boy, transparent at the edges, stood in the middle of Nick’s room. He looked a few years older than Nick—maybe seventeen or eighteen—dressed in clothes that seemed from another era: a faded denim jacket and worn-out jeans. His eyes were hollow, flickering with a soft glow that highlighted the worry etched into his face.
Nick stumbled back, adrenaline surging. “W-What?” he stammered. “Who are you?”
The boy raised trembling hands. “I—I’m Toby. I’m not here to hurt you.” His voice was calm, but Nick could sense a jagged edge beneath the words. “I just… need help. They told me you might be able to help.”
“They?” asked Nick. But the boy said nothing. he just stared at Nick.
Nick’s heart thudded, but a wave of sympathy washed over him. Toby looked terrified, even though he was clearly not among the living. Gathering his courage, Nick inched forward. “Help with what?” he asked, swallowing hard.
Toby’s eyes darted around the room, lingering on Nick’s cluttered desk and the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. “I was… murdered,” he said quietly. “I can’t rest until someone finds out the truth.”
Nick felt as though the floor had vanished under him. Murdered? That single word weighed down the entire bedroom.
The weight of Toby’s request settled on Nick’s shoulders. He nodded, more out of a sense of duty than any real desire to plunge himself deeper into the spectral world. “I’ll try. I have a friend, Gabe, he’s really good with research and stuff. Maybe we can figure it out together.”
Relief flickered across Toby’s features. “Thank you.”
Before he could ask any more questions, Toby began fading like a flickering light, until only empty air remained.
For a few heartbeats, Nick could only gape at the empty space. Nick had seen ghosts before and have even help many of them. But this was the first time one appeared in his bedroom.
Nick slid onto his bed, mind racing. He grabbed his phone and typed out a quick message to Gabe: Something insane just happened. I saw… a ghost. He showed up in my room.
Only seconds later, Gabe replied: Your room? Are you okay?
Nick typed back: Yeah, just freaked. Let’s talk at lunch tomorrow.
Despite the swirl of anxiety, Nick eventually drifted off to a fitful sleep, haunted by the vision of Toby’s pleading eyes.
The next day at school, Nick tried to act normal, which meant forcing himself to focus on mundane conversations about last night’s homework or the upcoming pep rally. At lunch, he found Gabe outside by the bleachers, away from prying ears.
“You look like you didn’t sleep,” Gabe commented, concern filling his hazel eyes. His hair, usually neatly combed, was a bit disheveled, which Nick found endearing. “So what’s going on?”
Nick spilled everything to Gabe, who listened with a furrowed brow. “Sounds intense, man. But I’m with you. Let’s dig up the past on Toby and see what we can find.”
Nick let out a relieved breath. “Thanks for doing this. Toby’s spirit felt… desperate. I want to help him, but I have no idea how.”
Gabe picked at a loose thread on his backpack. “First step: we figure out who Toby is—was—and if there’s any record of a murder.”
They spent the rest of lunch brainstorming ways to investigate. At the end of the school day, Nick rode his scooter to the public library while Gabe hopped on the bus. They met among the musty shelves of old newspapers and microfilm. Dust motes drifted in the fluorescent light, adding a bizarre sort of drama to the scene.
After about an hour of searching, Gabe let out a quiet gasp. “Hey, check this out.” He pointed to an old headline from 1983: Local Teen, Toby Sanderson, Found Dead in Alley. The article described Toby as a high school junior who disappeared one night after telling his parents he was meeting a friend. Two days later, his body was discovered. The investigation turned up no solid leads, and the case went cold.
Nick peered at the grainy black-and-white photo of Toby’s face. Even in the blurry print, he recognized the haunted eyes. “So he was murdered, but no one was ever charged,” Nick whispered, dread pooling in his stomach.
Gabe closed the file. “We should look into where he was found, maybe talk to people who knew him. Maybe you’ll pick up something.”
Nick nodded, though he felt overwhelmed. He was only 16—what could he possibly do about an old murder case?
That evening, Nick managed to slip away from his parents after dinner by pretending he had group project work. He hopped into Gabe’s beat-up sedan, and they navigated the streets until they found the deserted alley mentioned in the article. The place reeked of damp cardboard and stale garbage. Overhead, a single streetlamp flickered ominously.
“Creepy,” Gabe muttered, peering around as they walked down the narrow passage. A couple of dumpsters stood shoved against a graffiti-strewn wall. Everything seemed drenched in a sense of neglect, like the city had forgotten this corner existed.
Nick stopped at a spot where the concrete was cracked and stained. He had a sudden jolt of memory—like an echo from Toby’s perspective, but not quite. It was more an intense feeling of dread that made his skin crawl. “I think this is where he was found,” Nick whispered.
A flutter of movement caught the corner of his eye, and Toby’s ghostly form flickered into view. Nick froze, an odd mix of fear and relief crashing over him. Gabe didn’t speak, but Nick felt him tense, his grip tightening on Nick’s shoulder.
“Thank you for coming,” Toby said, voice quieter than before, strained with sorrow. “I was right here… I’m sorry if I scared you.”
Nick forced a small nod. “We read about what happened. The article didn’t say much.” He stepped closer, ignoring the chill in the air. “Was it someone you knew?”
Toby swallowed hard. “I was meeting a friend that night. I thought he might help me figure out some stuff I’d been feeling. When I told him I was gay, he got weird, said we had to talk somewhere private. I didn’t want to go home first, so we came here. But he wasn’t alone.” Toby shivered, even as a spectral form. “Someone else was waiting. By the time I realized something was wrong, it was too late.”
Nick felt his heart sink. “Do you remember who it was?”
Toby’s eyes flickered with frustrated grief. “I—it’s like part of my memory is locked. But I just keep seeing flashes of my dad’s face. He was always so strict about… well, everything. But he wasn’t there that night, right? He couldn’t have been. Or maybe he was.” Toby’s form wavered, fighting an internal battle. “It’s all jumbled.”
Gabe shot a worried look at Nick. “We can try to dig deeper, ask around your neighborhood. Maybe your old house?”
Toby grimaced. “My parents don’t live there anymore. The place sold years ago. But maybe the neighbors might remember something.” He hesitated, flickering like a candle flame. “I’m sorry to put you through this. I just… I need to know what happened. Maybe then I won’t be stuck here anymore.”
Nick nodded, compassion guiding him forward. “We’ll do what we can.”
With that, Toby vanished once more, leaving the alley heavier than before.
The following afternoon, Nick ditched his usual after-school routine of soccer practice to meet Gabe. They drove to Toby’s old neighborhood, a cluster of small, brick houses with chain-link fences and sagging porch steps. A neighbor across the street—a woman in her seventies, wearing a faded floral dress—answered the door after several knocks. When Nick asked about Toby Sanderson, she wrung her hands, eyes darting as if old ghosts were resurfacing in her mind.
“Poor boy,” she whispered. “He was always so polite, too. All I know is, his father was real short-tempered. Heard him yelling at Toby a few times. Then, out of nowhere, Toby ended up dead.” She glared at the ground. “The father moved away soon after, but I heard rumors. People said Toby’s father discovered Toby liked boys and… well, let’s just say he wasn’t happy.”
Nick swallowed, feeling bile rise in his throat. “Are you saying Toby’s dad might have had something to do with the murder?”
The neighbor’s lips formed a thin line. “I can’t prove a thing, but Toby was a sweet kid, and some folks in this town don’t take too kindly to a boy who loves differently. Sometimes hate brews close to home.”
Gabe gently placed a hand on Nick’s shoulder, leading him away. “Thank you for your time,” he said quietly.
Once they were outside, Nick’s head spun. “This is so messed up. How do we confirm if it was really his dad? Does Toby even remember it clearly?”
Gabe exhaled. “We should see if Toby comes to us again. Maybe if we push him with direct questions, something will click.”
That night, Nick’s parents were watching TV downstairs, but he couldn’t focus on anything except waiting for Toby. He sat at his desk, a single lamp on, drumming his fingers against the closed geometry textbook. Sure enough, the temperature in the room plummeted around midnight, and Toby’s ghostly figure materialized near the closet door.
“Toby,” Nick started, voice quivering with anger and compassion all at once, “did your dad attack you that night? Did you see him there?”
Toby clenched his fists, transparent tears welling in his eyes. “Yes,” he finally admitted, a quiet sob escaping. “After I saw you last time, my memories about that night started to come back to me bit by bit. I didn’t want to believe it, but… I think he followed me. He must have heard what I told my friend. That I was gay. He said I was an embarrassment, that I was destroying the family name.” Toby shut his eyes, shuddering with painful memory. “He was… furious. I begged him to let me go. But he wouldn’t. My friend ran off—I remember him shouting for me, but he was too scared to come back. Then my dad… he—”
Nick felt hot tears sting his own eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “We should let the authorities know. Even if he’s gone, your story needs to be heard.”
Toby’s form shimmered, like a candle nearing its last flicker. “Thank you. I—I can feel something lifting, like… I can finally breathe. You have no idea how much it means to have someone believe me, someone who cares.”
Nick’s throat tightened. But Toby needed him, and in some odd way, Nick felt honored that Toby trusted him. “Is there anything else we can do?”
Toby shook his head, eyes grateful yet heavy with lingering sorrow. “My dad died a few years ago. I read it in the obituary. There’s no one left to punish. But knowing the truth is out there… that’s enough. You and Gabe saw me for who I am. You cared.” He offered a shaky smile. “I can rest now.”
Slowly, his translucent figure radiated a soft, golden glow.
“What’s that bright light?” Toby asked, shielding his eyes.
“I can’t see it so it must be only for you. It’s your light to take you to the next step of your journey. All you need to do is step through.”
Toby shot Nick a final, tearful look of relief. Then, as though carried by a gentle breeze, Toby disappeared.
Nick let out a deep breath. The air felt warmer, lighter, like Toby’s presence had chased away a lifetime of secrets. A strange, bittersweet calm settled over the room.
At school the next day, Nick told Gabe everything, voice trembling as he recounted Toby’s final revelation. Gabe’s eyes misted over. “I wish we could’ve seen real justice served,” Gabe said, hugging Nick gently in the hallway. “But at least Toby found peace.”
Nick nodded, leaning into Gabe’s warm, reassuring presence. It was surreal how, in just a couple of days, he’d gone from a regular high school kid worried about grades and soccer to unraveling a decades-old murder. “I think Toby’s gone for good,” Nick said, “but I’m glad he’s not trapped anymore.”
Gabe gave him a soft smile. “Me too. And if we can, we’ll keep his memory alive, you know? Make sure people like Toby aren’t forgotten.”
Yes, people like Toby.
Nick’s chest tightened with a mix of sadness and hope. Toby’s story was heartbreaking, but at least now someone knew what really happened. Nick was determined never to let that memory fade, not as long as he lived. And in a world that could be harsh, maybe just remembering Toby was the kindest act of all.
The End