"Not so fake after all" by Nicole Simms

Paula knocked on the door. She straightened her gown and ruffled her wig. Okay, Paula, it’s time for Miriam.

The door swung open. “Oh thank God you’re here.” A flustered looking woman opened the door wider. “Miriam, isn’t it?” Paula nodded and stepped inside. “Things are getting worse.” The woman closed the door.

“Are you Laura?” asked Paula, in a mystic voice.

“Yep, that’s me.” Laura smiled.

“So in your message you said you had a little ghost issue. Is that correct?” Paula studied Laura. Hmm, how much money can I get out of her?

“Yeah, we’ve had ghosts bothering us for months now. Stu, my boyfriend, well he felt someone grope him. He thought it was me until I came into the bedroom. I’d been to the bog, you see.”

Not much money, then, thought Paula. “Okay, show me the way.”

“Follow me.” Laura headed towards the first room on the left. “We’ve set up in the dining room.”

Paula followed Laura into the room. She noticed a pine table with an Ouija board on top in the middle of the room, and around the table sat two other people: a man with bulging biceps, and a woman with brunette curls. They both gazed at Paula.

“This is Miriam. She says she can help us.”

“Hi, I’m Stu,” said the bulging bicep man.

“Hello,” replied Paula, she looked at the woman with the curls expecting a greeting, but the woman sat staring at her. “Right, shall we get started?”

Grinning, Laura sat down opposite Stuart.

“Is this gonna work?” asked Stuart.

“Yes.” Paula sat down. “We need to encourage the presence to move on.”

“It’s that easy, hey?”

“Stu, don’t be so rude.” Laura turned to face Paula. “Soz, Miriam. He can be an idiot at times.”

“It’s fine. What I do isn’t easy. It requires a lot of strength, but I have a gift that enables me to help those who are tormented, both living and dead.” Paula loved it when she could give her speech. At times, she almost believed it herself. “Now, everyone please hold hands.” Paula held out her hands. Stuart and Laura took a hand each, and then grabbed each other’s hand. “What about your friend?”

Laura and Stuart glanced at each other and shrugged.

“What friend? There ain’t no one else here but us.” Laura strained a smile.

Paula’s eyes fell to the chair beside Stuart. Laura was right. The woman with the brunette curls had gone.  



FlashFlood is brought to you by National Flash-Fiction Day UK, happening this year on 27th June 2015.
In the build up to the day we have now launched our Micro-Fiction Competition (stories up to 100 words) and also our annual Anthology (stories up to 500 words).  So if you have enjoyed FlashFlood, why not send us your stories?
More information about these and the Day itself available at nationalflashfictionday.co.uk.

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