Better Check on Mrs McFee

the hospital corridors were as quiet as death until loud male-sounding footsteps slapped down the hallway I peeked out, expecting to see a doctor I saw no one; but the footsteps were coming click click click click click click they stopped right at my door a chill went through me I thought of Mr. Eisenhower was he okay? should I go check? too late for that, a ghastly voice whispered directly into my left ear. I knew what jumping with fright felt like now. except I was frozen, I could not even scream. an unknown entity followed me that night to the nurse’s station, the water fountain, the soda pop machine, I felt it was a ghoul not a poltergeist, not a friendly entity I fell asleep briefly while charting. My head jerked up as I came back. “Better check on Mrs. McFee,” the voice hissed. I was terrified; paralyzed with fear. Mr. Eisenhower was okay, but Mrs. McFee had vanished. No one ever saw her again. a ninety-three-year-old woman who could not walk.