Member-only story
Bill Sketoe Hole — Short Story
Ginger pushed aside the limb that blocked the path. It was heavier than she thought it would be. Pushing harder, she ducked under it and continued down the overgrown path. The sound of Cody’s footsteps echoed behind her. She picked up her own speed.
“Hey, Gin, wait up!” Cody called.
She wasn’t about to wait for him to catch up. After his inconsiderate actions that morning, he was lucky she allowed him to come along. Maybe the ghost would teach him a lesson.
The truth was that she really didn’t think there was a ghost. It was just a good story told down through the years to scare kids off from the old bridge. There were many such stories around the area. Ginger just called it another story.
“Why do you want to meet the ghost?” Cody panted as he caught up to her. He swatted at the air and frowned.
Ginger narrowed her eyes as she continued to move over the uneven ground. Her blonde ponytail bounced as she moved briskly along. She fought the urge to turn around and shove him to the ground. She would control herself and not give him what he deserved. “Why not?”
Cody raised an eyebrow. “Do you hear yourself?”
Ginger stopped abruptly. She whipped around, her pony tail slapping her face. “Yes, I do. Obviously, you aren’t.”
