Ah, the CJLGG. It’s one of the most oddly terrifying phenomenons in the world. CJLGG is a an acronym I just made up for Creepy Japanese Little Girl Ghost. It’ll catch on. Tell your friends. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, think The Grudge. It’s a movie where Buffy Summers lives in a house haunted by a CJLGG and the much less common CJLBGTMLACFSR or Creepy Japanese Little Boy Ghost That Meows Like A Cat For Some Reason. Buffy eventually ends the curse with the help of Giles, Xander, and Willow… or something like that. I fell asleep in the middle because that movie is boring as hell.
At first glance, we shouldn’t find these CJLGG’s scary at all. Are you scared of little girls? Probably not, unless you’re a socially awkward little boy. And nothing makes me laugh harder, as an American, than Japanese people. And after encountering them on a daily basis, ghosts don’t scare me either. So why then, when I encounter a combination of these three non-threatening things, is it so terrifying to me? And why are there so many of them?
Fun fact: Approximately 88% of the population of modern Japan is made up of Creepy Japanese Little Girl Ghosts.
Do females in Japan only have a lifespan of eight years? There are, in fact, so many CJLGG’s that America is starting to take in a mass immigration of them. Even our little town of Chesterville has seen at least one.
Ohio can have notoriously bad winters, but last year made the record books. We got it worse in Chesterville than anywhere else, but we always do. I attribute it to Chesterville having a weak barrier between the natural and supernatural worlds. Ryan blames it on high pressure patterns or some crazy voodoo like that… Actually, though, voodoo’s a real thing, so let’s call it crazy Santa Claus magic. Ryan and his crazy Santa Claus magic.
Natalie decided to stay at home because of the storm, but I convinced Mark and Ryan to come along through means that did not involve blackmail in any capacity.
We had discovered a house in Chesterville that had been the site of fourteen murders and eight suicides, since it was built in the early 1900’s. One of the most gruesome stories was that of a Japanese family that moved into the home in 1914, with a daughter named Yuki. The official report was that the father of the family forced his wife and daughter to commit suicide before killing himself. No motive was ever established. It was clearly a hotspot for evil and so it was our duty to go investigate it.
The snow was already covering the roads in a thick blanket by the time we showed up at the house, so we rushed inside to get away from the cold. The house wasn’t much warmer than the outside, but at least it shielded us from the wind.
“Knock, knock,” I called out into the house.
“Shut up, man,” Mark said.
“Well, I don’t want to intrude,” I said.
“Yuki,” a whisper said from somewhere in the house.
“Well, that was quick,” Ryan said, looking around.
“This place really must have some power if it’s started talking to us already,” Ryan said. “What did it say?”
“I think it said, ‘cutie.’ It must be focused on me,” I said.
“It sounded more like, ‘pukey.’ So yeah, probably focused on you,” Mark said.
The house hadn’t been taken care of in a long time. We had thought that it was only recently abandoned, but the broken bits of furniture and trash on the floor suggested that no one had owned it for a long time. It looked like it had become a rest stop for drifters passing through town. That’s what most of Chesterville had become, anyway.
Ryan found a staircase that led to the second floor, so we went up the stairs into a hallway.
“Yuki,” the whisper said again. This time, it sounded like it was coming from the room at the end of the hallway.
Mark was huddling against me in a terrified death grip, whimpering softly like a scared puppy.
“Will you get off of me?” I said, and pushed him back. I turned around to face him. “It’s gonna be fine. Whatever keeps whispering is in that room. We’ll go in, banish it from this house, and go home for hot chocolate. In and out.”
“Easy-peasy,” Mark said, but he still looked terrified.
We walked slowly to the room at the end of the hall. The whisper returned. “Yuki,” it said. It sounded like a little girl.
“That sounds Japanese,” Ryan said. “Yuki?”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t speak Japanese,” Ryan said.
“What?” I said. “You don’t? Our friendship is over.”
The door at the end of the hall creaked open by itself. Nothing was behind it. All we could see in the room was a mirror and the edge of the bed. We had all stopped moving in the hallway, just to watch the door. Now I sped up to get to the room, and the others, for fear of being left behind, ran to catch up with me. I stepped into the room and looked around. There was a window to the left of the full-length mirror, which revealed that the snowstorm had become a full-blown blizzard. If we didn’t leave here soon, we could be snowed in.
The mirror was on a horizontal swivel and angled down towards the ground. I pushed it back, and the door behind us slammed closed. The mirror aimed up to the ceiling at a pale little girl with black hair, and a black mouth silently screaming at us with furious eyes.
I spun around and stared at the little girl, crawling upside down across the ceiling like a human spider. She crawled toward me and I reached for whatever was close to me, which happened to be a small throw pillow. I tossed it at the girl and she dropped from the ceiling to the floor, right in front of me. Then she scampered under the bed.
Ryan and Mark were desperately trying to pull the door open, while I stared at the foot of the bed where the girl had disappeared. I ran for the door to help pull it open with my incredible strength, when a hand shot out and gripped my ankle. It was dragging me under, and I couldn’t find anything to grab onto.
“Hey! Hey! Help!” I yelled, and Mark and Ryan both quickly grabbed my arms. The girl was amazingly strong and began pulling the three of us. I was almost completely under the bed when Mark’s foot slipped and bumped the mirror which came crashing down behind them, and the pulling stopped. I jumped out from under the bed as fast as my legs would let me, and stood myself up against the opposite wall.
“Is that it?” I asked. “Is it gone?
“Was it the mirror?” Mark asked. “I mean, I broke the mirror and it just stopped.”
Ryan opened the door and we walked back down the stairs.
A loud, echoing scream came from under the floor.
“Basement?” I said.
“Who cares? Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ryan said.
“Nope, basement,” I said. Ryan went to the door and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Well, it looks like we have to check out the basement,” I said.
“No, it looks like we have to find another door,” Ryan said. “This one must be just frozen shut.”
“Oh, I definitely saw a door in the basement,” I said, and ran towards the kitchen when I had seen a door that I could only assume led to the basement.
“You did not!” Ryan shouted back as I ran away.
The door was actually just a pantry, but with a few minutes of searching, we found the basement door, and as I opened it, another scream echoed up from the darkness.
“There’s no light down there,” Mark said. “We didn’t even bring a flashlight.”
“Oh, come on,” I said. “Not you too.” And on cue, every light in the house went on, including the basement.
“See?” I said. “Everything works out.”
“You’re taking this way too lightly,” Mark said.
We descended the creaky wooden stairs into the basement. It was filled with trash up to our ankles, and it wasn’t long before we decided to go back upstairs. But the door slammed shut and the lights went out. There was another loud scream that sounded like it was coming from right next to us.
“I told you we shouldn’t come down here,” Ryan said. “Why do I always follow you?”
“Cause I’m awesome. We’ve established this,” I said.
The lights went on, and the little girl was an inch from my face. I yelled, very heroically and not in a girly way at all, and fell backwards. Looking around, I saw another mirror buried in the trash. If it worked before, it would work again, right?
I picked up the mirror, this one much heavier than the one upstairs, and slammed it down on the little girl, but I didn’t feel it hit her. It went straight down and shattered when it hit the floor. The lights went out again.
“What happened?” Mark asked.
“I… I think I might have trapped her in the mirror,” I said. “And when it broke, it… must have killed her.”
“Or released her,” Ryan said. “So we should get out of here now, because I didn’t see any other mirrors.”
We got out of the house and into our car. It was completely snowed in at this point, so we waited for a while and then got out to walk back to my house, which was closest.
I don’t think I did kill that creepy Japanese little girl ghost that night. I still pass by the house sometimes, and I could swear, some nights, I see a child peering through the curtains as I pass by. But a lot of people have died in that house. Maybe someone else is watching me.