Archive for the Haunting the Goddards Category

The Unveiling

Posted in Chasing Concordia, Frustration!, Haunting the Goddards on August 13, 2008 by mbingo

Restriction: Have four distinct characters, whose vocals overlap during the song.

[ACT 1]

(Benjamin Bartlow)
Julianne, it could work if we try
I don’t see our relationship failing
Why are ghosts and the living so often apart?
I’ve had enough of this veiling…

(Julianne Goddard)
Dad, I feel it again
Like I said, it’s that vibe, it’s that smell-but-not-quite
And whenever this happens
I get this bad feeling we’re in for a fright…

[ACT 2]

(Michael Goddard)
What’s going on here?
Who’s that in the corner?
My God, you’re were right, dear
Julianne, I’m sorry

I can’t believe my eyes
I just never realized that our house is really haunted

You must be the Bartlows
Aren’t you Bartlows?
I knew it all along!
I’m going crazy
We’re going crazy
I knew it all along!

(Julianne Goddard)
Daddy, look, I told you!
Told you, told you, told you!
They made the rattling!
They rearrange things!

I knew all along, Dad
You thought that I was wrong, but our house is really haunted

Dad, are they the Bartlows?
They must be the Bartlows!
I knew it all along!
See, I’m not crazy!
Daddy, I’m not crazy!
I knew it all along!

(Kathy Goddard)
I’ve never seen those flowers
Where did they come from?
No wonder I can’t
Get a wink of sleep here

All along I knew
Though I thought it can’t be true, that our house is really haunted

Ah, so you’re the Bartlows
The poor, poor Bartlows
I knew it all along!
This house is crazy
I knew this house was crazy!
I knew it all along!


Crispin Bartlow

Posted in Haunting the Goddards, Two Minutes Less a Third on August 12, 2008 by jeereg

Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

There’s a reason the Goddards can’t see us. It’s hard to explain if you’re not dead. We call it a veiling, but its real name is stranger.

The game is to pull one person through the veiling, just a little. That way, they can see us, when we want to be seen, but otherwise we stay hidden. Julianne was almost there.

But goddamn Ben. With his poems and stupid, fucking, flowers. I’m ready to give her that little tug, and he reaches out of nowhere and.

Fuck me running. The whole thing is collapsing.

Julianne Goddard

Posted in Haunting the Goddards, Two Minutes Less a Third on July 23, 2008 by jeereg

This house is weird.

I mean, like, weird weird. Not like my cousin Richard’s house, which has that one room that isn’t for anything and those stupid rabbit statues in the yard. Our house has this, like, vibe. It’s not even anything I can put my finger on. Sounds bounce kind of funny, but I don’t know why. Sometimes the air gets a little fuzzy. There isn’t, like, a smell or anything, but almost.

Plus, I swear the stuff in my closet keeps getting rearranged. Not, like, messed up, but sometimes my dresses are hung up backwards.

What was that?

Michael Goddard

Posted in Chasing Concordia, Haunting the Goddards on July 23, 2008 by mbingo

I’ve had enough of these carpets
They remind me of the Bartlows — oh that poor family!
And I should probably inquire
About the sounds that plague our home and keep Kathy up at night

And lately, Julianne’s been acting strangely
Making claims about rattling — kids and imaginations!
There is no explanation
For the noises or for why I’m the only sane Goddard left

Holly Bartlow

Posted in Haunting the Goddards, Two Minutes Less a Third on July 2, 2008 by jeereg

Crispin’s being an idiot. He sneaks into Julianne’s closet and throws all her clothes around. I put them back before she notices.

She’s pretty, and she has good taste. That gets her a pass.

Sometimes I try on her clothes, as I’m rehanging them, but it never really feels right. For one thing, I have to shove them on over this stupid floral thing. I wish I’d been dressing myself before the fire. Mom’s sweet, but vogue she ain’t.

Maybe Julianne can give me some advice, when she figures out we’re here. Which shouldn’t be long, the way Crispin’s going.

Benjamin Bartlow

Posted in Chasing Concordia, Haunting the Goddards on July 2, 2008 by mbingo

I’d give anything to be a man who could feel your touch, oh Julianne
How I wish that you would come home diagnosed with some affliction where you fall in love with ghosts like me
Some addiction to the fact that through me you can see
A non-fiction anthrospectral romance, you and me

Crispin Bartlow

Posted in Haunting the Goddards, Two Minutes Less a Third on June 25, 2008 by jeereg

I don’t know, they’re not that bad. I just wish they’d try an exorcism or something, now and then. Those are always cool.

Instead, they have barbeques, mow the lawn, do these game night things. (No Ouija yet. I’m hoping.) They even invite people over. They don’t know we’re here, yet.

Ben tells me to ignore them, but then I’d be reduced to swooping around at night and scaring dogs. So I go through the walls of the daughter’s closet and rattle things. She’s about the age I was.

She’s smart. She’ll figure it out. Then we’ll have some fun.