You're scream went on for a minute, and you saw the ghosts eyes go wide, as he dissapeared. The door flung open, and Arthur and Peter stood at your door.
"______________! What's wrong?!" Arthur cried.
"T...there....thing....hair....blue eyes....Ameri...Revo..." You mumbled, panting heavily, as well as crying. Peter hurried to your bed and managed to climb on. He hugged you.
"Don't cry _______..." he begged, hugging you. You muffled words inreadable to Arthur or Peter, but Peter continued to hug you until you felt better. "Feel better sissy?" He asked. You nodded at him.
"Yeah...it must've been a nightmare." Arthur smiled.
"Want me to sleep in here with you?" Peter asked, looking up at you. You looked down at your little brother and smiled.
"That'd make me feel so much better." Peter smiled, and you scotted over for Peter. Arthur smiled as the two of you snuggled up in bed.
"Good-night you too." he said, shutting off the light and walking out of the room. You lied on your back, as did Peter.
"Is what you saw a boy...with a Revolution uniform on?" Peter asked. You sat up in bed immediatly, and looked at the boy.
"Yes..but how did you know that Peter?" Peter sat up in bed too.
"Because I see him too. He has a big piece of hair sticking up, and his clothes are all ripped, and torn. He was in my bedroom last night, and he said 'Hello there dude...'." You felt your heart beat in your cheast.
"Why didn't you scream?"
"Because he was nice to me. He didn't try to hurt me, he was talking to me. He said his name was Alfred, and he fought in the American Revolution. I told him I had to go to bed, and then he dissapeared."
"So I'm not crazy..." You mumbled to yourself.
"No you're not." Peter shook his head. "He's real. But daddy doesn't see him."
"Well then, we need to ask Alfred to show himself to dad!" You said. Peter yawned.
"Can we do it tomarrow? I'm tired." You chuckled.
"Sure." You lied down with Peter and the both of you drifted off to sleep. The next morning, you felt as if something shook you away. Your eyes fluttered open, thinking it was Peter, or you dad. But neither one of them stood in your eye range. You're heart pounded as you sat up, and glanced to your side. There, stood Alfred. You tried not to scream. But he shook his head.
"Don't scream..." he begged. "That freaked me out last night."
"S-sorry..." you mumbled.
"My name is Alfred....I died in this room."
"H-how?" You asked.
"I was in the American Revolution. I got shot in the leg. Back then, this house wasn't around, but a hospital was. I was taken there, but I died before they could start any type of operation from the blood loss. In this very room."
"O-okay. But why did you try to scare me to death?" You asked.
"I didn't mean to..." he said. "I just wanted you to know I was here. That I was still something.." You're expression softened.
"So, you've been here for hundreds of years? In this house?" Alfred nodded.
"It's sucks to. I had a girlfriend back home, and a baby on the way that I was going to see once the war ended, but I never did."
"Well did you talk to my brother, Peter?" He nodded.
"Cool little kid. Looks alot like your dad."
"Will you show yourself to my father?!" You asked. Hefloated back a bit. "He doesn't believe me when I say that you're here. I don't want him to think I'm crazy." Alfred looked at you, and you looked at him, able to see practically straight though him and at your closet. Alfred smiled.
"If that's what you wish..." You smiled. "Should I go do it now?" You chuckled.
"Yes please. The sooner the better." Alfred smiled, before floting out of the room and dissapearing. You climbed out of bed, finally glad you know what that thing really was. He was a ghost, but a friendly ghost that I'm sure meant you and your family no harm.