An Unexpected Visit by Megan Gleason
Annalise’s fingers shook with fatigue as she clung to a tiny brick that jutted out from the museum wall.
She blindly searched for a foothold with her left foot, her Converse high-tops scraping the red brick.
Straining to see in the nearly pitch black, she scrambled up the building, finally stopping when she
reached a green-trimmed windowsill. Balancing herself on the narrow window ledge, she carefully
picked the lock, red nail polish chipping off her fingernails. The window creaked open. Annalise grinned,
and slowly crept inside.
Annalise slipped a flashlight out of her pocket, and turned it on with a click. The museum was hauntingly
dim, the display cases grim and imposing. “Titanic Sinks”, a newspaper clipping screamed. Portraits hung
on whitewashed walls, their faces deathly pale. “Anne Brinkley- 1st class. Born August 31, 1900. Died
April 15, 1912.” Blue emergency lights made the whole room glow with an eerie light, as if the ocean
were reflected on the floors.
A bright white light shone on the floor next to her. Annalise froze. A security guard was headed her way,
his flashlight sneaking into dark corners of the room.
Annalise turned off her flashlight. As the security guard turned the other way, she darted behind a
trashcan, beneath a portrait of a stately old gentleman.
“Anyone there?” The flashlight shone briefly on the trashcan before the guard turned away and walked
into the next room. Annalise let out a shaky breath. Fumbling in her jeans pocket, she drew out a
crumpled piece of paper. It was a list, written neatly in red pen.
-Pharmacy
-Grocery store
-Pet store
-The Titanic Museum
“Mission accomplished,” she whispered with a smile. She pulled a red pen from behind her ear, crossed
out the Titanic Museum, and slipped the list back in her pocket.
“There you are!”
Annalise screamed. The security guard grabbed her by the wrist, jerking her to her feet. The red pen fell
from behind her ear.
“The Break-In Girl. Been having a bit of fun, have you?”
Annalise bit her lip so hard she could taste the blood in her mouth.
“Come on, you knew we’d catch you eventually. First it’s the pharmacy, then the grocery store. I knew
you couldn’t resist the Titanic Museum.”
The guard laughed. “You must think you’re pretty smart, don’t you? Ha! Wait till I report you, you’ll see“
A sudden chill swept the room. Annalise shivered, and goose bumps started forming on her bare wrist.
“What’s going on?” the guard said loudly, putting on a show of bravery. “Whatever you’re doing with
the heating system, this is Chief of Security William M. Stafford you’re dealing with, I can report you-“
A heavy frost spread across the glass display cases, covering them in small crystals. The carpet fibers
froze, standing straight up like tiny icicles. The emergency lights popped and exploded, fizzling from
dangling cords.
The security guard screamed, his freckles standing out on his doughy pale face. “We’re gonna die!” he
blubbered, his squinty blue eyes filling with tears. He stumbled back and half sat, half fell on the floor.
A light flickered on in the next room, glowing brightly. Annalise walked slowly towards the light, her
limbs stiff with cold. As she neared the room, the light flickered off with a high-pitched beep. The
museum was plunged into darkness.
“Hello?” Annalise called in a shaky voice as her teeth rattled. No one answered. She turned around, and
walked back towards the trashcan, stumbling over the security guard. She closed her eyes, and listened.
“Help…”
She rubbed her ears, not sure if she was hearing correctly.
“Help…me…”
The voice was soft and quiet, but it was definitely real. And it was coming from behind her.
Annalise turned around and shrieked. The portrait of the stately old gentleman was coming alive.
Grey arms reached out of the portrait, straining at the gold frame. Withered cheeks bulged out of the
canvas, and a gray face grimaced and twisted, a captain’s hat slipping off its head.
“Help me out, will you?” Gray lips muttered with a whispery wheeze.
Annalise was frozen, she couldn’t move. Her heart raced like a herd of wild horses, and her legs were
shaking so hard that her jeans were quivering.
“Excuse me?” she croaked.
“Help!” The whisper was stronger this time, but it was hoarse and crackly.
Eyes wide, Annalise unstuck her feet from the carpet and grabbed the gentleman’s arm- but to her
surprise it slipped right through her fingers. She tried again, but with no success. It was like trying to
hold a cloud.
“I’ve forgotten- humans can’t touch ghosts. Just give me a moment.”
Annalise watched with horror as the ghost pulled itself out of the portrait, wheezing and sputtering. He
stood a full 6 feet 7 inches, and had to stoop under the low ceiling. He extended his hand, bowing. “My
name is Edward John Smith, proud to make your acquaintance.”
Without knowing what she was doing, Annalise stuck out her hand, her fingers shaking. “Annalise
Williamson, who is, um, scared to make your acquaintance.”
They awkwardly shook hands, Annalise’s fingers sometimes going through Mr. Smith’s accidentally.
“Annalise, what a pretty name. Do excuse my abrupt entrance. I didn’t mean to scare you,” the ghost
croaked, smiling.
Annalise tried to smile, but her lips were quivering too much.
The ghost cleared its throat, and once again attempted conversation. “It’s very late for a young girl such
as yourself to be wandering around late at night. Where are we, anyway?”
Annalise found her voice. “The Titanic Museum,” she squeaked.
“The Titanic? Really? I have a ship by that name. Have you heard of it?”
Annalise blinked.
“It’s really quite famous.”
Annalise couldn’t resist raising her eyebrows. “Infamous, actually,” she added.
“So you have heard of it!”
“Yes, of course.”
“Do you know where it is?”
“At the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.”
“Oh!” The gentleman looked confused. His bushy eyebrows drew together, and he sighed. “Do you
mean to say it sank?”
“Yeah, a while ago.”
“Well.” The gentleman’s face fell. “That would explain something.”
“What?”
“Well, you see, I’ve lost something.”
“And?”
“I’m afraid it’s somewhere in this museum. They must have old relics from the ship, correct?”
“All kinds of things.”
“I need to find my wedding ring. I’m afraid I lost it when I…well, when I passed away.”
“You mean drowned.”
The gentleman winced. “Yes, that’s it. When I drowned.”
“And you want me to find it?”
“Yes, of course. You’re the only one who can see me, after all.”
“What?” Annalise frantically searched for the security guard. He was still hunched over, his eyes blank
with fear.
“Don’t worry about him, he’s scared senseless. In a moment, he’ll be called in to help with a security
issue outside. But I’m afraid there’s something I haven’t told you. When I chose to come here, I had to
bring something from my world here.”
Annalise looked at him warily. “What did you bring?”
The ghost looked sheepish. “The Atlantic Ocean. Or a part of it.”
“You brought what?!”
“I’ve just told you! I’m afraid it’s already here.”
Annalise looked down. Sure enough, while she had been talking the room had gradually filled with
water. The seawater was at her ankles, and rising quickly.
“How will I ever find your wedding ring?” Annalise shouted in frustration.
The ghost looked worried. “You will find it, won’t you?”
Annalise’s heart quickened, and she began to search frantically around the room. Wedding ring,
wedding ring, she thought, her mind racing. Grabbing the security guard’s baton, she smashed the
display cases, the glass shards splashing into the water. Nothing.
She ran into the next room, which was also filling with water, and madly searched the smaller items. The
water was now at her knees.
With a jolt, she remembered the security guard, but he was already running down the stairs. “Sorry,
gotta run. Security issue outside!”
She shook her head, and continued searching. The water had reached her waist. She found a small ring
box, but when she opened it, it was empty. She screamed in frustration, smashing the box hard against
the wall.
The water was at her neck, and she began to swim. With a start, she noticed something glimmering at
the bottom of the room. It was a small golden ring. Taking a deep breath, she dove underwater,
grabbing the ring. She tried to come up for air, but the water had risen too high. Panic rose in throat,
and she swam into the other room, searching for the ghost. Her lungs were screaming for air, and her
vision was flickering.
The ghost floated in front of her, his wedding ring glimmering. “Thank you, Annalise,” he said softly. “I
will leave you now.”
Slowly, he glided underwater and stepped back into his portrait. Suddenly, the water drained away, the
frost melted, and Annalise was left lying on the floor, her clothes cold and sopping wet.
All that was left was a cold sea breeze.