Still standing in the doorway, Molly looked around. No lights on upstairs in the kitchen nor downstairs in the playroom.

She reached for the door handle, thinking about going back outside to wait for Billy, wherever he was. She grabbed the handle and pushed the door forward. BANG! She heard a thud from somewhere in the woods.

Molly slammed the door closed, leaning against the wall, her heart pounding ferociously. BANG! BANG! The noise was unfamiliar, yet sounded eerily like chains being dragged along the ground. Ghosts!

Oh, no, not ghosts, Molly thought, I knew this place was haunted! She froze in place like a stone statue, her eyes bulging.

Suddenly, a black cat jumped off the kitchen counter and meowed. Molly shrieked! It headed toward her, then stopped and arched its back. Realizing it was just Simon, Molly let out the breath she’d been holding. She sat exhaustedly on the marble floor and hugged her cat. Huge sobs rocked her body, and all she could think about were those “ghost” noises.

The telephone rang abruptly, startling Molly. From where she sat, the whole house seemed to shake as it rang in ten different rooms throughout the three stories. Each ring had a slightly different pitch, and each started and stopped in a different rhythm. Simon climbed out of her arms and slunk away out of reach.
Now what? Molly thought as she wiped her tears with her sleeve. She didn’t know whether to run up the huge staircase to the kitchen to answer the phone, in case it were Billy, or to just stay put until Billy rescued her...or the ghosts got her.

Unable to decide which choice was less risky, Molly soon noticed the ringing had stopped! But from far away in the house, she heard a male voice! She shrieked...then instantly realized it was someone talking into the answering machine, and she tried, finally, to calm herself down.

Weak and sweaty, the eight-year-old used her last bit of energy to lean toward the sound and listen to the message, hoping it was Billy saying he’d be right home. Or maybe it was “Ghostbusters” saying they were on their way over, she thought, relieved she could joke even just a little.

It was her brother’s friend Jack.

“I’m really sorry,” he began, and Molly’s stomach tightened as she worried what he would say next. Had something happened to Billy?

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about the mouse, Billy, I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident. I hope you’ll still be my friend.”

Scared as she was, Molly tiptoed down the dark stairway toward the cage her brother kept his stinky pet mice in. She yelled the whole way, “Let’s go downstairs my big German Shepherd that bites!” She’d seen someone home alone do this once in a movie.

Molly reached for the basement light, leaned toward the cage, and counted: two mice. Where was the third? Was it loose in the house? Ugh.

Clank. Molly gasped as behind her she heard the metal thump again. The room was spinning. This must be what it feels like to be about to faint, she thought. Although she was petrified to sit on the cold cement in the basement of this creepy house--with a mouse possibly crawling around--she had no choice but to sit, and try to steady herself. She could take no more! Molly covered her eyes with her hands and prepared for the worst.

In the darkness, she pictured dozens of spiders--and one little brown mouse--crawling all over her defenseless body.

“Help!” she yelled as loudly as her lungs could manage over her fear.

“Hey, stupid,” Molly heard beneath her own screams. She’d never been so glad to hear Billy! She turned to see him standing in the doorway holding a shovel.

“Jack was over here before, and he picked up Browny and squeezed him too hard, couldn’t breathe, dropped dead instantly. I’m wicked pissed!” Billy said.

Molly briefly felt sympathy for her brother, despite a secret delight that one of the three smelly mice was now gone.

“I kicked Jack out, and I got to burying Browny in the backyard,” he continued, holding up the shovel. “Kept hitting ledge. Was so mad about the whole thing I forgot about you coming home. What time is it, anyway?”

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?!” Billy asked.

Molly was glaring at him, her brown eyes wide and fierce, her hair flopping every which way, her jaw clenched tight with only a glimpse of tooth poking through her anger. She raised her clenched fists in front of her dirt-streaked face and ran up the basement stairs. She’d never forgive him for this one!

“I’ll kill you!” Molly yelled as she charged after him. Billy backed up and lost his balance. He fell onto the top step with a thud.

“Hi, kids, we’re home. What’s that noise? Where are you?” Mom shouted from the front hall, perhaps just in time...

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