"The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell,

and hell of heaven."

John Milton

The phonograph reached its max Senovio then took the needle and placed it over the spinning record. Music played from the sound horn of the object. Instead of instrumental music playing, a sad and hair-raising voice of a grieving woman danced into the air.

“I don’t like this,” Henry said. He placed his hands over his ears. “Make it stop.”

“Stop playing it, Senovio,” I told him.

“Quit playing, quit playing!” Senovio shouted, trying to turn off the phonograph. He grabbed the handle and began pulling it towards him. But the handle wouldn’t budge. The handle continued to rotate repeatedly on its own. And as it continued to create full revelations, the singing grew louder and louder. “Where are you at fool? I will fart on you from behind if you come at me and my siblings!” Senovio shouted. The chandelier in the room brightened and then darkened, pulsating like a heartbeat. Henry looked up, watching as the blinking chandelier swung back and forth. “CeeCee, I don’t like this,” he told me.

I backed up against the wall, holding my little brother tight. Then Henry began to cry at the top of his lungs. He placed his face on my shoulder, his cheeks wet with tears. “It’s okay, buddy,” I whispered. “It’s okay.” Senovio stepped away from the phonograph and placed his arms around us. He looked back at the ceiling and shouted, “You’re going to make me fart, and you’re going to smell it. And the smell of my butt breath will be so foul that you’re going to die from intoxication.”

“Now that’s disgusting!” I shouted at him. “Give the ghosts some mercy!”

“With the power of Goku from Dragon Ball Z, I’m going to do the Kame-hame on you!”

“Stop with the threats!” I shouted at him. “Let’s just get out of here!”

With Henry in my arms, I ran across the dark blinking room to another wooden door. I lifted my right leg and kicked the door open with all of my might and dashed into another dark hallway. We approached another dark corridor with stairs that led up to the attic. Senovio turned to bolt, but I pulled him back next to me. “Come on,” I told him as we climbed up the staircase, “you have no sense of adventure anymore.”

“Darn right, I do,” he replied. “This is a paranormal activity kind of stuff.”

We entered another dimmed room. I set Henry down and gripped his hand in mine. Unlike the previous room, that had a vast amount of space. They cramped this room with a bunch of antique objects collecting dust in the darkness. We maneuvered and zigzagged around the items, scrapping our arms against the corners of heavy wooden boxes. I paused at a black tuxedo on a mannequin and looked at it up and down before taking a step away. Henry followed behind me. He took a pause and looked at the tuxedo. He approached it and grabbed the cuff of the sleeve and gave it a good tug, feeling its soft delicate fabric. “It’s soft,” he whispered. He released the cuff and walked around the corner. He then stopped and called out to me.

“Look, Carmen!” he said, pointing at the object in front of him.

“What? What is it, buddy?” I replied.

I came from around the corner and my eyes widened and my mouth dropped. I couldn’t believe what I was staring at. In my opinion, it was almost too good to be true. Scary, to be specific. I took a step towards the object, my mouth still gaped open. It was a Neoclassist painting of a man that resembled Senovio. However, I could point out a few major differences. The man in the painting had long dark hair and dressed in traditional Native American attire, he had a stronger jawline than Senovio and his eyes were an emerald green.

“What?! What is it?” he yelled. Senovio came from around a corner, and his eyes grew wide like saucers. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times. His mouth dropped. “What the一” Before he could finish his sentence I covered his mouth. I gave him a side glare and nudged my head towards Henry, reminding Senovio that our little brother was present. I pulled my hand away from his mouth. We moved forward, our eyes fixed on the picture of Senovio’s supposed doppelganger. I inhaled a breath of air and breathed out, pushing away the collected dust. I whisked the remaining dust off the frame and took a step back. Crossing my arms over my abdomen, I gave a small nod. “Well, I’ll be,” I began. “It does look like you.”

“One moment,” Senovio said. He pointed his finger at the painting.

“Why?” I asked, confused.

“Hold on a sec...Por ke siempre, Carmen?” Senovio asked me.

His eyes grew enormous and pointed his hand at the painting beside him. Senovio raised his brows up. “You’re gonna make me stand here and stare at a dead dude’s portrait that looks like,” he paused for a moment. My brother covered his chin with his hand. “You know this reminds me of when I got drunk at the Summer Rain party in May.” He placed a hand on his forehead. I rolled my eyes and grabbed Senovio by his ear and yanked him towards him. I narrowed my eyes into thin slits. “That’s enough,” I told him. “It’s probably a coincidence, let’s just get out of here before we get in...”

“What are you three doing up here?!” a voice shouted at us.

“Senovio!” I shouted to him.

We howled and turned around quickly. “You can’t be up here. You need to leave!” the old man grunted. I shifted my head, gawking at the old fellow before us. He was a short and stocky person. The man sported a traditional black manservant uniform. Surprisingly enough, it was still in pristine condition. The old man had a crooked receding hairline in the shape of a “Z” that was weakening at the front. His nose was meaty, and his ears stuck out a little at the rims. He was a pale man, and the moonlight did not serve him any justice. His eyes were an opaque blue. They were so cloudy that you couldn’t make out his pupils in the dark. Oh, and let’s not forget about those eyebrows. His eyebrows were a bright white that vomited out in different paths; which looked like caterpillars in Henry’s perspective. It was quite ludicrous.

“Who is that?” I asked, curiously.

“Someone that you don’t need to know. Now let’s go,” he told us.

“His name was Matti,” another voice replied.

A woman emerged from behind the tuxedo dressed mannequin. In her hands, she held a tray of freshly baked sugar cookies. The smell of the browned butter and vanilla danced in the air entering our noses, causing our mouths to water. “Would you three like some cookies?” she smiled at us. We reached for one, and a smile spread across her face. I bit into the sugar cookie. Soon a smile spread over my lips as I went in for another bite. I noticed that there was a shyness in her voice. As well as a sense of hesitation when she served us. Unlike the manservant, the maid was tall and slender. She pulled light brown hair in a high bun, and tiny strands of thin curls framed her oval face. Thin wrinkles decorated her pale white skin, which became more prominent in the shadows. Alluringly, she blinked her light green eyes a few times, allowing her long, thick eyelashes to flutter like a butterfly.

“What are you doing?!” the man shouted. “They are trespassing on private property! You shouldn’t be treating them with desserts! Plus, it is none of their concern who that man is...or was!”

“It is their concern, you lunatic!” the woman shouted. “They are our guests have you not listened to a word that the Lady has said?!”

“What?” I said, confused. I brought my fingers to my lips as I swallowed the last of the cookie. “What are we involved in?”

“Explain,” said Senovio. He reached for another cookie and took a large bite. The maid laughed and handed me the tray. She took a few steps back and breathing a sigh. We watched as the woman closed her eyes. Within a second, her body became blue and translucent. I could feel my eyes grow big until my sockets ached. I gulped. A chilling sensation rushed down my back like ice. We watched as the maid levitated off the ground. Like a feather, she floated in the air. Her body swayed from side to side. My brothers and I looked up towards the ceiling, our lips parted. “You’re a ghost?!” Senovio shouted, his eyes became big. He felt the last of his cookie slip from his fingers and drop to the ground. He looked down, disappointed at the dessert.

“Yes, yes, we are!” the woman replied in a jammy voice.

“Great, now you’ve done it, Evie,” the manservant told her. “Cristobal will not be happy about this, not one bit!”

“Don’t you want to break the curse, Stacy?!” Evie hissed.

We looked at one another. A smile pulled across our mouths. The servants watched as we lowered our heads, struggling not to laugh out loud. The manservant knitted his caterpillar brows. He asked us what we were laughing about. The man expected us to answer him. However, it was the opposite. We couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Our voices echoed in the quiet room.

“Your name is Stacy,” Senovio said, pointing at him. “That’s a girl’s name.”

“No!” Stacy protested. “It is not a girl’s name, it is also a boy's name.”

“Not in today’s society it is,” Senovio retorted.

“Don’t listen to him,” I said. “Can one of you explain what is going on here?”

Evie explained it had been over 170 years since IT brought the curse to the manor. And it has been over 170 years since Matti had died. She walked over to the painting and breathed out a shaky sigh. She placed her hand on the frame, shaking her head. Evie looked at Senovio. The woman returned her gaze back at the painting. “You two look just like each other,” she told him. “Except, you have shorter hair.” I stood next to her, staring at the painting once more. I asked the woman who Matti was. I was curious why he was so important to them. A warm smile spread across Evie’s face. Her cheeks flushed a bright pink and her eyes lit up like candles. “He was our friend,” she replied. “We loved him...”

Her words faded away, and her eyes narrowed. “Oh you loved him too, you insensitive donkey!” the woman shouted. She spun on the back of her heels and glared at Stacy.

“I respected him, as a comrade,” Stacy retorted. “He was an interesting lad, he always held a delightful conversation.”

He paused for a moment and his grey eyes grew wet with tears. “Oh, what’s the use?!” he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “I can’t hide it, I loved him like a son too.” Stacy looked at Senovio and clapped his hands together. He placed his arms on the boy and gave him a strong pat on the back. “Well, now that he’s back...he can lift the curse. You see, waiting a century is worth the wait.”

“But what if he’s NOT him?” Evie asked, nervously. “Then what do we do?!”

We looked at one another confused. Before I could ask them another question, the servants froze. Stacy and Evie looked at each other and back us. A pair of footsteps entered the room. Evie placed a finger over her lips and motioned us to go towards the back. The three of us went into the farthest corner so no one could see us. Senovio, being the biggest buffon on the planet, quickly grabbed the last of the cookies and darted towards the back. I looked at him up and down. I didn’t say anything. But from the look on my face, Senovio could tell that I was judging him on his life choices. Which indeed I was. “They’re good cookies,” he whispered. I rolled my eyes and yanked him towards the ground.