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Catching the Bouquet

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Bouquet

It was the day of my sister's wedding when all of this began. My mother kept worrying because there was no bouquet. I have no idea why she was so bothered, weddings don't actually need bouquets, but she was probably worried about everything because it was such a big day for her daughter.

My mother kept fretting over the lack of a bouquet and my father wanted this to be a pleasant and memorable day for his wife and my sister. An old grave had a bundle of flowers on it. The grave seemed rather neglected aside from the bouquet that was placed on top of it. The stone was so old that you could not read the inscription which had eroded away and moss had overtaken much of the tombstone.

Without a second thought, my father scooped up the flowers of the grave and gave them to my sister. She smiled, taking the flowers. He turned his head to my mother, "Is everything alright, now?"

Mother said nothing, still looking very nervous and uneasy.

The entire wedding went very well, until the bouquet was thrown. It was caught by my old babysitter, who was now a good friend of my mother's.

That night, Mum and Dad went to the cinema to watch some movie which was rated 18+. This meant I had to stay home. My parents are very strict. They didn't call the babysitter for me, but for my younger brother, whom they didn't trust me enough to look after.

The babysitter arrived, but she seemed frightened. I wondered what was wrong, but I didn’t bring it up.

She was the one who caught the bouquet at my sister's wedding. I heard a crashing sound coming from the living room. I came down from my room and found shattered glass littered on the floor. The window had been smashed in and someone was standing in the living room.

My heart skipped a beat. Suddenly I found my hands racing towards my phone and calling 999. (For those who don’t know, that’s the number for the police in the UK.)

All I told them was my address and that someone had broken in and then I hung up.

Then I got a better sight of who was standing in the living room. The woman turned her head, a pale white figure with a face that seemed almost cracked; she wore gardener’s gloves and an old torn dress and held a pitchfork. I knew that when I saw her, she had come from beyond the grave. My mind raced.

She ignored me and slowly stepped towards my babysitter who screamed in fear. She jumped up off the sofa and stood paralyzed. It was like the gardener wanted revenge. After a couple of moments I realized that since my babysitter received the bouquet from a grave, it seemed that the spirit had returned to get its flowers back.

It attacked just as the doorbell began to ring and several knocks were at the door, "Hello, it's the police."

I shrieked to alert the police and suddenly they began to knock down the door; it took a while but when they came in the creature turned and smiled.

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