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Central Central National Bank Member fdicos Werewolves, Witches and Vampires written by Joanne Christensen,
published by Lone Pine Publishing. Cousin Annette Donna Woodcock was only sixteen years
old in nineteen sixty three, the years she experienced one of the strangest events
of her life. She had been sleeping soundly in her family's Texarkana home when
something woke her. Donna sat up in bed, looked around and saw something
she would never forget. Illuminated in the open doorway of the bedroom was a
strange little girl. She wore a blue skirt and a white blouse, was
barefoot, and had a dirty face framed by tangled curls. Donna was frightened
by the apparition, but pulled the covers over her head, tried to convince
herself it was a dream, and went back to sleep. Some time later,
she awakened again, glanced at the doorway, and found the specter of
the little girl still there. This time, the child glided across the floor.
She passed so closely by the foot of the bed that Donna could have
reached out and touched her small white hand. The spirit didn't stop, however,
and didn't speak. She simply drifted out of the window on the opposite
side of the room. Donna was still reeling from the experience of seeing an
actual ghost in her bedroom when she heard her five year old sister, Teresa
scream. The little girl had leaped out of bed and was running through the
house as though she was being chased. Eventually, she jumped into bed with
Donna. What's the matter, Donna asked, alarmed, Nothing was all the
frightened little girl would say. Together, the sisters hit under the safety of
the bed covers and waited for a morning. At the breakfast table, Donna
told her mother about the strange events of the previous night. To her surprise,
her mother readily believed the story and seemed particularly interested in Teresa's behavior.
What was it, Teresa? Her mother asked, what made you scream?
Teresa looked up shyly from her plate. Finally, she said, a little
devil touched me right here. She pointed to her forehead. The girl's mother
nodded. Then she told her daughters something she had never before shared with him.
Your father and I we have always had a worry about you, Teresa.
We always felt, for some reason that we might lose you, as
your aunt and uncle lost little Annette. Donna and Theresa's young cousin, Annette
had drowned at the age of four. It had happened years before, or
so, The sisters had never even met her. I believe this is a
good sign, though the girl's mother continued thoughtfully. I think it means that
we don't need to worry about you so much. The woman never explained exactly
how she came to such a conclusion, but the important thing was the incident
seemed to ease her mind. As for Donna and Theresa, their strange experience
quickly began to fade into memory. They were concerned with other things. For
in two weeks, the family was to move to Dallas. It had been
arranged that until a new home was found, the girls and their parents would
live with relatives. Coincidentally, it was little Annette's family that they were staying
with. One evening they arrived. While the adults were still busy exchanging happy
greetings, Donna wandered ahead into the living room. A beautifully framed portrait of
a child on the center of the mantle caught her attention. This must be
a Nette, she whispered to herself and walked over to have a better look.
What she saw drained the color from her face. It was the little
girl she had seen in her bedroom. The ghost who had frightened her drifted
across the room and touched Teresa on the forehead, was staring out of the
portrait at Donna. It had been a Nette who had visited them on that
night. As Donna realized this and felt some strength drain out of her legs,
her parents and her aunt and uncle walked into the room. Donna,
are you all right? Donna's mother took one look at her daughter's ashen face
in unsteady stance, and hurried over to help Donna to a chair. That's
a nete, said Donna. It wasn't exactly a question, but Donna's uncle
answered anyway, Yes, that's our poor little Annette, he said. After
a moment's pause, he added, you know we were living in Texa,
Colonel when she drowned, and that very house you just moved out of.
In fact, Donna Woodcock had never known a ned and had never seen a
photo of her. She certainly hadn't been aware that the little girl had been
living in her own family's home at the time she died. But on that
one strange night she surely met her spirit. The little ghosts had made certain
that she shared one astonishing visit with her flesh and blood cousins before they left
her haunt forever