Have you ever regretted doing something? Saying something? Feeling something? Knowing something…? Even “not” knowing something…?

I do… I did…

I regret not seeing past her smiles. I regret not seeing past her pain and her sorrows… I regret believing her words when she said “I fine, really!”

At least I don’t regret loving her.

I can still recall her voice echoing down the hallway one lonely night. I and some of my friends; all drunk, like most college students after a party often were; had snuck into the old rotting mansion atop the hill. It was supposed to be haunted; truth of the matter was that it was due to be demolished the very next day and the only thing haunting the place was…

A fire truck’s siren blared in the distance and looking out towards the forest surrounding our small town a fire had started; I guessed it to be the old age home, again, most problematic resident. Old man Shaw just couldn’t resist his daily dose of death ‘in-a-stick’ and he often went out into the forest for some reason to take a smoke.

We had all became more curious with the man after his grandson joined our collage; but rumors were that he had a granddaughter, too, who was visiting him since spring last year. The chills of the fast approaching winter ripped through my jacket, leaving me regretting being the only sober one in the group. Hell why did I even agree to this?

I berated myself, yet knew very well why, this was Old man Shaw’s house, he hadn’t lived there for over twenty years due to the lack of maintenance. The mansion was just a part of a will, an inheritance from his late wife’s father who had gone missing, during World War two and was passed down to her after her own mother died and to him when she passed away.

As another bone chilling breeze swept by we all stood frozen by the door.

“So who’s going in first?” Derik asked, he was the one who made the ‘bet’, and now he was the one stalling.

“Fine!” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to force the last few sleepless nights’ effect out of mind.

Derik, Marshall and Richard followed closed behind, each with a torch, each with a spray bottle filled “Holy Water” they had stolen from St. William’s Church before having fetched me.

But most importantly were their footsteps that caused the wooden floor to creak under their weight.

We were halfway up a flight of stairs, that was, when we heard the faint sound of a voice dance upon the wind that drafted through the old mansion.

Eerily spooked, Derik was the first to take two steps back down, ready to dash for the exit!

“The… ghost…” He blurted out, his voice caught in his throat.

We stood still for a moment observing the top of the staircase for any movement, we listened to the voice, whether it was moving or stationary…

But what caught us all off guard as we just silently listened was how enchanting the ‘voice’ was that sang.

“Fall down, fall down, falling from high.
I’m falling down, down to earth
Rain on me, wash away
All the my pain from yesterday

Sinking deep below the waves,
I’m drowning in a sea of tears
Tides pull me in,
Take me far away from all my worries today

Fade away, fading into the night,
The dark embraces me in its cold
Erase me from this lonely world,
For this life is not for me.”