Sure. All right, it's called "The Girl Who Wanted to Play."
A long time ago there was a little girl who was very sick. She lived with her mother and father in an old house they'd built themselves. Time passed and the girl got sicker. She couldn't have friends visit and she couldn't play. Eventually, she passed away.
The mother and father were so overcome with grief that they too passed away and were all found in the same room together about a month later. The family was buried together in a plot behind the home.
Fast-forward fifty years. A family that's new in town decide they want to spend their money renovating the home and buying the property it's on. They turn the home into a bustling, busy place and soon enough, they and their four children are moved in.
In the middle of the night, the youngest daughter hears something. A slap, tap, slap, slide of something padding down the wooden floorboards outside her room. Like someone dragging their feet. She's a very young girl so naturally she's curious but assumed the worst. She covers her head with her blankets just as her door opens.
The slapping, tapping and sliding sound begins to get closer... and closer... until the little girl swears she can hear ragged breaths. She's terrified, shaking... and then...
The blanket is pulled down!!! . . . by nothing. The little girl sits up in bed and screams as loudly as she can. The family comes running, but other than a chill in the room, there's nothing they can find. They dismiss it as her imagination.
The following night at midnight, the second youngest child, a boy, hears a slap, tap, sliding in the hall on the wooden flooring like someone dragging their feet. He knows the littlest sister's story and because he's second youngest, he's scared. He hides under his blankets just as the door creaks slowly open. He can hear the slap, tap, slide as it grows closer and closer... until...
His blanket is pulled down too!!! . . . but nothing is there. He lets out a cry even louder than the littlest sister's. The family comes running and he tells them his story but aside from a chill in the air, there's nothing they can find. They dismiss it as his imagination.
The third night at midnight, the two eldest children, a brother and a sister, are trying to stay awake. They want to catch whatever is making the slapping, tapping, sliding sound in the hall that their littlest siblings have been talking about. Suddenly, they hear it...
Slap. Tap. Sliiiiide. Slap. Tap. Sliiiiiide.
Someone was very clearly dragging their feet slowly down the hall, making their way toward their room. The siblings were afraid, but they reached out to one another and held hands, promising to protect the other. The door slowly opened... and there was a little girl standing at the door, her face pale, her eyes sunken, her blond hair tied up in a neat little bun. In her hands, she held a red ball. Her leg was in a cast.
"Would you please play with me?" She asked them with a voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once, soft as down feathers.
The elder siblings agreed to play with her and the little girl smile, overjoyed. They played catch together in silence until finally, one of them laughed, then the other, then all three. The youngest siblings, hearing the laughter, arrived on the scene and, once the situation had been explained that a little injured girl just wanted to play, they happily joined in.
They played for hours until they finally just pushed their beds together and curled up to sleep all together as a happy group of tuckered out little children, the little girl sleeping happily in the middle of the bunch.
When the morning came, the parents called to their children but there was no response. Hurrying up the stairs to their rooms, they found them empty until they came to the shared room of the eldest siblings. They opened the door.
There, in bed, were their four children, dead in their sleep... and in the very middle of them, the mummified remains of a little girl holding a little red ball.
[voice]
A long time ago there was a little girl who was very sick. She lived with her mother and father in an old house they'd built themselves. Time passed and the girl got sicker. She couldn't have friends visit and she couldn't play. Eventually, she passed away.
The mother and father were so overcome with grief that they too passed away and were all found in the same room together about a month later. The family was buried together in a plot behind the home.
Fast-forward fifty years. A family that's new in town decide they want to spend their money renovating the home and buying the property it's on. They turn the home into a bustling, busy place and soon enough, they and their four children are moved in.
In the middle of the night, the youngest daughter hears something. A slap, tap, slap, slide of something padding down the wooden floorboards outside her room. Like someone dragging their feet. She's a very young girl so naturally she's curious but assumed the worst. She covers her head with her blankets just as her door opens.
The slapping, tapping and sliding sound begins to get closer... and closer... until the little girl swears she can hear ragged breaths. She's terrified, shaking... and then...
The blanket is pulled down!!! . . . by nothing. The little girl sits up in bed and screams as loudly as she can. The family comes running, but other than a chill in the room, there's nothing they can find. They dismiss it as her imagination.
The following night at midnight, the second youngest child, a boy, hears a slap, tap, sliding in the hall on the wooden flooring like someone dragging their feet. He knows the littlest sister's story and because he's second youngest, he's scared. He hides under his blankets just as the door creaks slowly open. He can hear the slap, tap, slide as it grows closer and closer... until...
His blanket is pulled down too!!! . . . but nothing is there. He lets out a cry even louder than the littlest sister's. The family comes running and he tells them his story but aside from a chill in the air, there's nothing they can find. They dismiss it as his imagination.
The third night at midnight, the two eldest children, a brother and a sister, are trying to stay awake. They want to catch whatever is making the slapping, tapping, sliding sound in the hall that their littlest siblings have been talking about. Suddenly, they hear it...
Slap. Tap. Sliiiiide. Slap. Tap. Sliiiiiide.
Someone was very clearly dragging their feet slowly down the hall, making their way toward their room. The siblings were afraid, but they reached out to one another and held hands, promising to protect the other. The door slowly opened... and there was a little girl standing at the door, her face pale, her eyes sunken, her blond hair tied up in a neat little bun. In her hands, she held a red ball. Her leg was in a cast.
"Would you please play with me?" She asked them with a voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once, soft as down feathers.
The elder siblings agreed to play with her and the little girl smile, overjoyed. They played catch together in silence until finally, one of them laughed, then the other, then all three. The youngest siblings, hearing the laughter, arrived on the scene and, once the situation had been explained that a little injured girl just wanted to play, they happily joined in.
They played for hours until they finally just pushed their beds together and curled up to sleep all together as a happy group of tuckered out little children, the little girl sleeping happily in the middle of the bunch.
When the morning came, the parents called to their children but there was no response. Hurrying up the stairs to their rooms, they found them empty until they came to the shared room of the eldest siblings. They opened the door.
There, in bed, were their four children, dead in their sleep... and in the very middle of them, the mummified remains of a little girl holding a little red ball.