Haunt

By S.A. Evans

“As Maru stood gripping the tall, iron fence in the field leading to the forest, she thought of the past again...The memories remained etched in her brain. She groaned softly, irritated.”

Once you’re haunted, your life will never be the same. The following is a collection of short stories featuring oddballs, including a family man with a penchant for his childhood toys, a mysterious man—but is he really?—whose regular walks become more stressful, a devoted student librarian trying to maintain the sanctity of her cherished place, and a young woman willing to put up with—almost—anything to get her business off the ground. What the characters find out is that anything can haunt you. Tensions rise. Boundaries are pushed. Relationships will be tested. Can the characters reclaim their lives without losing their sanity in the process? These whimsical tales bring the laughs, embrace the weird, raise eyebrows, and hopefully tug at your heart. You don’t want to miss it!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Dec 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781649794840

S.A. Evans

S.A. Evans fell in love with stories at an early age. It wasn’t until high school that she discovered a passion for creating her own. In 2019, she graduated from Young Harris College with a BA in Creative Writing after spending four years developing her craft. When not writing, she’s looking for inspiration for her next project.

Book preview

Haunt

S.A. Evans

Austin Macauley Publishers

Haunt

About the Author

Copyright Information ©

Acknowledgment

Big Kingdom, Tiny Warrior

The Cemetery

Haunt

Wake Up!

Library’s Hell

The Yellow Daffodil

Snakes, Toys, and Crime

About the Author

S.A. Evans fell in love with stories at an early age. It wasn’t until high school that she discovered a passion for creating her own. In 2019, she graduated from Young Harris College with a BA in Creative Writing after spending four years developing her craft. When not writing, she’s looking for inspiration for her next project.

Copyright Information ©

S.A. Evans 2022

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Ordering Information

Quantity sales: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Evans, S.A.

Haunt

ISBN 9781649794826 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781649794833 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781649794840 (ePub e-book)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022919018

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street,33rd Floor, Suite 3302

New York, NY 10005

USA

[e-mail]

[phone]

Acknowledgment

Thank you, God. Thank you to my parents for encouraging me to follow my passion when it came to choosing a major in college and allowing that passion to grow. Thank you to my friends, old and new, who embraced my ordinariness as well as my weirdness and honestly loved me through it all. Thank you to my 11th and 12th grade English teachers, who made me fall in love with literature and inspired me to write stories. Thank you to my Creative Writing professors in college. You helped me build my skill to a level I never thought possible. Thank you to my college English professors for introducing me to different writers and genres, and always having dedication and enthusiasm in the subject matter. Thank you to the wonderful college campus library staff for my first job and for making the library as awesome as it is. Thank you to anyone who had read my work, especially in its roughest stages. A lot of it wasn’t good, but you read it anyway, and I appreciate that. Thank you to everyone at Austin Macauley Publishers. Because of you, my work is going from a saved document on my laptop to the public to enjoy. This is truly a wonderful feeling. Thank you to all my readers. I love you all.

Big Kingdom, Tiny Warrior

They were six inches tall—the three toys. Oscar had them for so long, he couldn’t bear to part with them. Hell, he even brought them on his honeymoon with his wife, Olivia. They didn’t use them—Oscar felt happier knowing they were with him. Olivia felt weird when she saw her new husband place the toys on the tall oak dresser in the bedroom. Oscar smiled with excitement. Nervous, Olivia smiled back, hoping it wouldn’t be a permanent thing. She loved her husband but felt put off by the toys, wondering if Oscar would love them more than her. He’d clean them up before her family came over during the holidays before he’d even think to help clean the rest of the house. Each year on his birthday, Oscar would sit on his bed with his arms rested on his knees and stare down at the toys. He looked forward to the nostalgic trip. He released a quiet sigh before putting them away again. Over the years, it didn’t matter so much. Oscar proved his love to her over and over again, so she stuck around and even birthed a son—Elijah.

In their early years of parenthood, Olivia thought it was cute for Oscar to be in touch with his inner child. To her, this meant Oscar would be more sensitive and nurturing to their son. And he was. Oscar went with Olivia during every doctor’s visit, trip to the dentist. They took Elijah took the zoo, the aquarium where the little child stared in pure wonder at the animals, wanting to so much to pet them. On Fridays, the family went out to dinner then to video store, one of the last left. They preferred the experience of VHS over Blu-ray. More classic, they think. Elijah picked out his few favorites over and over and his parents always relished in spending the evening rewatching them with him. Oscar and Olivia would pick out a movie for themselves, but they would only watch their pick after Elijah had gone to bed. Oscar was there when Elijah fell and scraped a knee while running around outside. He took turns with Olivia when Elijah laid in bed sick with the flu or the common cold, taking temperatures and giving medicine, much Elijah’s displeasure. Very few kids approved of grape flavored medicine. Oscar was as attentive and giving as he could be, but he kept the toys to himself—never let Elijah touch them. In Oscar’s eyes, he was too young and would’ve broken them.

A young Oscar saw how the other kids abused their toys—and grimaced when they asked their parents for more. It disgusted Oscar when he heard the stories. One kid flushed them down the toilet. He succeeded with the smaller ones. Other times resulted in a visit from a disgruntled plumber. Another kid tied them to ceiling fans to see how fast they flew off. Then there were the kids who stuck to the basics and tore the limbs off and attached them to other toys. These children later claimed Toy Story as their favorite movie, but Oscar viewed this as disturbing since they also claimed Sid to be awesome. He shivered before getting a safe distance away. Anything was possible with a child’s imagination.

One day Oscar sat Olivia and a seven-year-old Elijah down in the living room. Cute or not, Oscar had to tell his family where the attachment to the toys came from.

Oscar got the first toy—the Knight—when he was five. He lived with his parents in a one-story home in the rural part of town in Woodstone, Georgia. Oscar was five when the Knight toy came out in stores. Like the other little boys in his class, he wanted one more than anything. He was already a shy and quiet kid, so he didn’t want to be the only boy without one and be picked on for it. It was already rough for Oscar. All the other kids got to go with one of their parents on Bring Your Child to Work Day. Both of his parents had jobs that were deemed unfit for children. His mother worked in a factory filled with big, dangerous machinery. His father worked at an electronics store; children were a risk to the merchandise. Oscar’s parents were careful and wanted to keep him safe, but he was still upset, as children would’ve been. The other boys in his class bragged about their experiences at their parents’ jobs. One kid went to his dad’s office where he did social work. Another went to the cool middle school where his mom taught math. Those jobs weren’t exciting enough to envy, but as a boy, he wanted to fit in and be part of the event. Instead, he stayed behind and helped the teacher out with secretarial stuff. He took inventory of the classroom supplies and helped tidy the play area. He was even trusted to drop off some paperwork to the main office while the teacher answered a phone call. He received a cookie, chocolate chip—his favorite, so it wasn’t all bad. Once he came home from school and told his parents about his day, his parents took pity on him. Two days later, Oscar held the Knight toy in his chubby, little hands.

The next toy was a Viking when Oscar was twelve. The house was never loud before the parental split happened. Oscar’s parents were quiet people…when Oscar was around anyway. He wasn’t rambunctious as a kid and he was the only child, so it wasn’t like the house filled with endless excitement. After what happened, the small house managed to be even quieter. A pen could’ve dropped in a room on one side of the house, and it could still be heard from the other end. It was much too eerie for a kid. The day his parents divorced, Oscar was confused. He thought they were happy. They weren’t particularly affectionate or anything, but they never argued. One could’ve only assumed that they were in love. On the saddest day of his life, Oscar had begun the day by sitting on his bedroom floor watching TV while eating strawberry oatmeal for breakfast. His father usually knocked before he came in, but this time was different. His stoic face seemed cracked like he tried to stay strong. He sat down on the bed, turned to face the window on the opposite side of