Silas liked old things. He liked old measuring spoons; he collected vintage Shinola Shoe Polish tins; he adored polishing up rusty old water jugs.

He also loved that he lived in an old house.

And the house really was old. Built in 1924 and renovated twice since, one time in 1957 and the next in 1992, the house had seen through almost the entire 20th century. Silas had researched it very thoroughly and found that the house had its very own ghost story. It went along the lines of this:

The original owner of the house had been a rich miser. He was quite unkind, and was known to turn away poor people asking for money or food.

One cold winter night in 1926, there was a knock on the door. The miser was angry, as it was very late. He did not answer the door, though the knocking continued.

The next morning, a young girl was found dead on his doorstep.

It seemed that the girl had died of cold and starvation on his doorstep, waiting and waiting for him to come to the door. The miser was unalarmed, and ordered his servants to bury her. That alone probably got him haunted.

But here the story strays from the facts. It states that the miser began to hear whispers in the night, driving him mad. Eventually the miser couldn’t take it anymore and he killed himself in his attic.

This fascinated Silas. One morning he walked casually into the kitchen where his father was drinking coffee.

“Hey, Dad.”

Sip.

“Dad.”

Sip. “What?”

“How do you get into the attic?”

Sip.

“Dad.”

“What?”

Silas groaned and walked away. “Nothing.”

He went into the office where his mother was typing up a document for work.

“Hey, Mom.”

“I’m really busy now, honey; go ask your father.”

Silas suppressed a scream and stomped to his room. He was about to walk in when he saw a square on the ceiling. Silas craned his neck and looked at it closely.

It was the entrance to the attic.

Silas raced downstairs to his father.

“Dad, I’m borrowing your ladder.”

Sip.

“Thanks Dad!” called Silas, racing to the garage.

After he set up the ladder with much cursing (he stubbed his toe on the base), Silas climbed up it and eased the square away from the ceiling. It came off easily and he climbed into the attic.

It was very dusty, which made Silas sneeze. But there were so many treasures here; a painting over there that looked like a Monet, a decrepit old vanity that looked like it was from the 1890s, even a vintage coin collection! Combing through all the things, Silas was immersed in history until he heard a sound that made him jump.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

It sounded like shoes. Mary janes, to be precise.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

Silas looked at the ground; footprints were appearing on the dusty hardwood floor, coming closer and closer until he could swear he could hear someone breathing.

The most dangerous enemy is the one you cannot see. Those were the words his grandfather said to Silas in his dying breath.

Beware. Everybody is a killer inside.

Silas stopped breathing.

A girl was taking shape. Sad, beautiful, and pearly white. Her ripped dress just above her bruised knees, her braided hair tangled and wild. She wore a pair of battered mary janes.

“It’s been a long time since someone came up here,” she said in a small voice. “That miser was the last one, but he killed himself. The body scared me, so I hid it over there.” The girl pointed to a tarp, which was wrapped around an awfully human-looking shape.

Silas stepped back.

“No, don’t go,” the girl pleaded. “Stay with me.”

Silas stopped. He took a tentative step forward.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Anna.” The girl floated so close their noses almost touched. “What is your name?”

Silas shuddered and took a step back. “Silas.” This girl was pretty, but so scary.

Anna smiled. It was not a nice smile. “You know, I could kill you too, if you like. I know you like me. If you’re dead then we can be together. Truly together.” She had been inching toward him again as she talked.

Silas shook his head. “No, thank you. I like being alive.”

The girl sighed. She glided closer and stroked his cheek. Her hand was like ice, and Silas flinched away.

“You know what you want,” the girl whispered. “You want to be with me. I want to be with you. But we are separated by the wall between life and death. I cannot come to your side, but you can come to mine. Would you really deprive me of this?”

Silas studied Anna. She was persuasive, sure. And so very pretty. But Silas could see through her distractions.

“What do you really want, Anna?”

Anna stopped and smiled. “To be with you, of course.”

It was Silas’s turn to smile. “No, that’s not what you want. I know that.” His smile flickered. “But what I don’t know is your true desire. I will ask again: What do you really want?”

Anna paused and sighed. She pulled up a small chair, and Silas sat on the floor in front of her. Anna began her story.

“I was born in 1910. My mother had died of consumption after she had my littlest brother, for I had two sisters and two brothers. My father was away with work. I was left at home to take care of my younger siblings.

“My father was an irritable man, and he often gave me thrashings if I did not do the washings on time or finish ironing his work shirts.” Anna paused, closing her eyes. Silas took her hand. She began again.

“One day, my father died in a work accident. I did not love him; therefore, I did not mourn for him. But now we were penniless. I tried to get a job, but no applications were available. We started to run out of food. Starving and cold, I dragged myself to the miser’s door, for I was very ill. No one answered. I died on that doorstep.

“I found the attic a comfortable place to live, and I could sneak around and look at the morning paper. A few mornings after I had died, I saw it had reported that my siblings had died of disease, starvation, and cold. That night, I cried for them, but they did not come. They left me for the afterlife.”

Anna took a shuddering breath. “And here I have waited.”

“For whom?” Silas asked quietly.

Anna looked at him, and her eyes were glittering.

“For you.”

Silas thought for a moment. “You do not wish to love me―”

“Of course I―”

“You wish for me to love you.” Silas regarded the speechless Anna. “That is what you want. To be loved.” He stood up. “But I cannot help you.”

Anna stood up as well. “Why not?”

Silas sighed. “You cannot stay here, Anna. I can see it is ripping you apart.”

Anna hung her head. Silas stepped forward and tilted her chin up.

“Why do you stay, Anna? Go back to the afterlife. Save yourself.”

Anna sighed and shed a single, glittering tear. She enveloped Silas in a hug and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Goodbye, Silas,” she said softly. Tears streamed down her face now. “I will see you sometime.”

Silas gave her a sad smile. “Goodbye, Anna.”

Anna let him go and dissipated into dust. Only a small silver locket remained. He picked it up and heard Anna whisper faintly, “keep it, Silas. Remember me.”

Silas smiled. He wouldn’t soon forget.