The Little Indian Boy In My Room

Every night in my room, around maybe three in the morning, a little Indian ghost boy shows up. His name, he says, is Little Bear Claw. His parents were feuding with another Indian family over some land. He was 18 when he died. This is a true tale. Do not take it lightly. Ghosts do not hang on to places; they hang onto people. That’s until they are finish with their unfinished business.

The other family had a beautiful daughter. They fell in love. He would sneak around to see her, to just be with her. He didn’t care if they were born enemies. He knew he loved her. He told his parents he was going to marry her, but they said no. So, at night he would sneak out to meet her, where he proposed. She said yes but she wanted to tell her parents. He told her she couldn’t, because he knew they wouldn’t approve.

So, they made a plan. They were going to run away together. The girl’s family found out. Her father went crazy, and grabbed his shotgun. He ended that relationship that night. He put a bullet through Little Bear Claw’s head.

He told me he’s waiting for her to come to him again, so they can be together forever more. I hope it comes true. After all he’s been through, he deserves to find her. Until then, he'll keep coming to me at three in the morning.

Again, do not take this lightly.

Sent in by Bella30164, Copyright 2010