Forbidden Love
A ghost story
The storm raged outside, fierce and unyielding, but within the confines of the old mansion, a different tempest brewed—one of sorrow and longing.
I glided through the majestic halls, my transparent fingers grazing the dusty furniture, each touch igniting a memory. I was the ghost of Eliza Monroe, bound by a curse that had shackled my family for generations. Forbidden love had given birth to the infernal curse.
With my heart racing and the rain drumming on the roof, I whispered to James on the night we eloped.
“Do you think they’ll ever find us?”
“We’ll make it, Eliza. Just you and me, far away from here,” he had said, his dark eyes glistening with hope.
The car was a rickety thing, but it was our vessel to freedom. We’d driven for mere minutes, the lightning illuminating our path, but fate had other plans.
The sudden thud of a flat tire shattered our dreams.
“Damn it!” I said, the words echoing in the storm's stillness. “What are we going to do now?”
“Stay calm,” he said, his voice steady even as the wind howled outside. “I’ll change it. We’ll be back on the road in no time.”
I couldn’t sit still in the car, my anxiety would not allow it. I told James I could help and exited the car holding my rain poncho against me to prevent the wind from ripping it away.
That night, the universe conspired against us. I stood by James holding wheel nuts while he changed the tire. Two men, my uncle and cousin, emerged from the shadows, their faces twisted with rage.
“What are you doing with that girl?” my uncle spat, the weight of our family’s hatred heavy in the air as he grabbed my arm. Wheel nuts flew in the air.
“Let her go!” James said, stepping before me, his love a shield against their hate.
That moment transformed love into tragedy. I remember the glint of metal, the flash of anger, and then darkness enveloped us, snuffing out our dreams.
The world believed we eloped, escaping under cover of darkness. My family knew the truth. They knew why my spirit remained tethered to this mansion, condemned to wander its halls, waiting for James, forever waiting.
The curse was insidious; it claimed that anyone in my family who dared to love would meet a tragic end before their thirtieth year. I had become the harbinger of that fate, my sorrow seeping into the very foundation of our lineage.
As the years passed, whispers of my ghostly presence filled the mansion, tales of a forlorn spirit yearning for a lost love. I watched as my family grew distant, love becoming prohibited, each member fearful of the curse that shadowed our bloodline. I cursed my family for their hatred, for their inability to embrace love in all its forms.
“Why can’t they see?”
I lamented to the empty rooms, my voice echoing through the vastness.
“Love is not a sin. It’s the only thing worth fighting for.”
One day, workers came to dredge the lake, looking for a drowned teenager’s body. They pulled the car and our remains from our watery grave, and my heart surged with anticipation. Could it be? Would they finally discover the truth of our tragic end?
The spreading news brought a refreshing shift in the air.
The townspeople’s eyes widened in shock as they uncovered the truth about our love story.
My spirit soared. Was I finally free? Would the world learn of our love that had defied our community’s and my family’s beliefs?
Then, miraculously, I sensed his presence—James—lightly touching me like a soft breeze, as if the universe had heard my prayers.
“Eliza,” he said with a whisper, his voice resonating in my heart. “I’ve waited for you.”
“James!” I cried, my spirit intertwining with his. Finally, we could be together. Our once-forbidden love blossomed anew as our ethereal forms embraced. The curse’s weight lifted, its darkness dissolving.
That embrace broke the curse, rewriting our tragic fate in the annals of time. We were no longer just memories of a curse, but characters in a sad love story.
“Together, always,” he promised. Together, we drifted into the unknown, our souls united at last. The haunting ended, replaced by a love echoing through eternity, breaking chains of hatred and despair.
Author’s Note
I remembered this prompt a day before the deadline, so I could not complete my story in time. This was the prompt from the
:Your prompt:
Your protagonist is a person in love who is also a ghost
Your story must include a family curse
And you get a bonus if you include “flat tire”
Read another Halloween-themed post:
By the way, my new book, The Edges, is now available in digital and paperback formats.
Upcoming…
A story about addiction:
Oh, Venus, 9 October 2024
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A great story. Loved the idea of a ghost walking through the mansion waiting for her lover to return to her.