By Avery Dobozi
It was a bright and sunny June day when Gracie saw it. She was sitting at her high chair, only a toddler, when she looked across the street and saw a painter. He was a tall man, standing on a ladder, working inside her neighbor’s house. Of course, being a curious child, Gracie had to point out this crazy sight.
“Grandma,” Gracie cried, “Do you see the painter?”
After looking long and hard, Gracie’s grandmother soon admitted she didn’t see anything in the neighbor’s house. In fact, the neighbors were on vacation. This information sent Gracie into a tantrum. There was something there, in the house. She could see it. It was a painter. In hopes to stop the terrible tantrum, Gracie’s grandma falsely admitted to seeing the figure and went on with her day.
The next day, Gracie was back in her high chair, when once again she saw something in the neighbor’s window, painting. Eager for her grandma to see again, she screamed for her attention, and once again pointed out the figure. Not wanting Gracie to throw another tantrum, her grandma assured her that she saw the figure too, yet once again, she didn’t see it. She decided she would tell her neighbors about it when they got home the next day.
The next day, her grandma’s neighbor stopped by their house to pick up their newspaper and mail, and of course, Gracie’s grandma told her what happened, hoping to gain a laugh. In reality, a look of terror covered her neighbors face. Her neighbor invited Gracie’s grandma to come over quick, just to see if she noticed anything, so of course, Gracie’s grandma followed her neighbor back to her house.
When she stepped inside, it hit her, the overwhelming smell of fresh paint. Her neighbor explained that it had smelt like that since they arrived home from their trip. Shocked and confused, Gracie’s grandmother and her neighbors decided to drop the matter and leave it in the back of their minds. Too bad they didn’t know they live on an ancient burial ground.