Sixteen Zero Three Huntington Court

I fell in love with the Sixteen Zero Three when I was eight. I was fifty-eight before someone located the owners who had moved on Thirty-nine years had passed since anyone had inquired. I had coveted the idea of owning this monster for half a century! “That old Jackson place?” “Are you crazy?” “Who would live there?” “It’ll be a money pit.” “You’ll lose all of your savings.” What did they think I had been saving money for anyway? “It has ghosts.” This from a man who had never been inside. Frankly, it made the idea more appealing. The front door creaked with a loud eeeeeeeeeehhhhhhh The prissy realtor in her red half heels looked too clean to be there. I wanted to push past her but socialized, I waited. The place was dark, even with the lights on. All of the lights on. The realtor did not tell me about the rumors or the killing there. She hoped that I did not know, but I did. I had been in touch With my ghost hunting side for a long time. Three ghosts said “hi”. I kept it to myself and signed the paper. Sixteen Zero Three Huntington Court was mine at last and so were they! “Not that one!” a fourth spirit said. The others were shushing him. “I am not kidding, she is going to change everything!” He whined. I turned and winked at him. Nearly causing him to fall off the staircase. “It’s like you are already home,” one of the female ghosts said. “Oh, honey,” I whispered to her telepathically, “If you only knew.” I had lived in this house during the Civil War, and we had lost it. I remembered that lifetime as well as my name. “She’s TROUBLE!” the Rebel soldier hissed. I winked at him again. We both knew I was bringing a whole new aspect to my new house.