Haunted

October 2019

#130

 

Spirits

Darkness into light
Vision of friends
Heartfelt moments
Thoughts as they haunt me
I miss them - the crash took them
In a moment -
Without an utter feeling,
They were gone from this land -
This Earth -
The sight of them -
Haunting me - Spirits of time
Sitting there in front of me
I had to let go -
To lay them to rest
To find another avenue
In my life
In my mind

(C) Josie Lawson 29/10/2019 All Rights Reserved
GROW

 

Stripping Back Time

A shrouding mist was rolling in at the end of an autumnal day. A halo of orange light, stared down from the street lights. Angela stopped at the Estate Agents. Amidst the properties for sale, one stood out; Cottage circa 1860, Mill Lane. She stepped inside, greeted by a young man

“Good afternoon madam, can I help you?”

‘Yes please, I would like to have details about the cottage in Mill lane’

“Ah, yes” he replied “It has actually been empty for sometime; the previous owner passed away. He was quite a recluse, no-one seemed to know if there were any living relatives and there was no will. In these cases, there are companies who try to trace relatives. A distant cousin was located, but he doesn’t want the property; hence the sale.
Angela arranged a viewing. She couldn’t wait; something was drawing her. The following Monday she arrived to meet the agent.

Entering inside, it was plainly obvious there was a lot of work to be done to make it liveable, but she loved it. So the sale was agreed.

A few weeks went by and at last it was hers. The builders were ready to start the major work, but Angela wanted to do quite a bit herself. She had always been very practical and enjoyed decorating; getting it to a standard she was happy with. The wallpaper had been up for many years, it was quite hard stripping it off. Just in one spot it came away easily. To Angela’s surprise, there was a small door. With a struggle it finally gave way to release its hidden secrets. Most of the papers just crumbled, except for a pencil drawing of a young girl. Angela became quite dizzy, she thought she would faint. Breathing deeply and slowly she recovered herself, but her hands were still shaking; it was like the girl was coming to life. Putting the drawing away and unable to think straight, Angela decided she needed a stiff drink.

Tiredness overcame her and she went to bed.

On waking the next morning, Angela wasn’t sure what happened during the night; was it a dream? Yet he felt it was too real. Mary that was it; she told me her name. I held her hand, it was so cold.

“I have been waiting for you Angela, I knew you would come”

‘How old are you, when were you born?’

“I am thirteen – born in 1857, but time has stood still for me since the terrible accident”

‘What happened?’

“When I was eleven, I was sent to work in the mill”

Oh Angela thought, hence the name Mill Lane.

‘But you were so young’

“That’s how it was then; we were not allowed to be children” Mary’s eyes bored into Angela’s soul “Come with me, I need to take you back to a time when my life existed”

Angela had felt herself rise from the bed. On reaching the front door it opened, nothing had made any sense. The lane was dark but she could glimpse dawn breaking. Angela stepped onto what she thought was a pavement but her feet had sank into dirt. The smell was overpowering, putrid and foul.

“Come quickly” said Mary “The bell will sound soon, if we are not at the gates on time, we will be locked out” Angela had looked down at her clothes, they were in rags and some sort of cloth mop was on her head. Taking Mary’s hand she had let her guide her.
People were all around now, heading for the gates; they looked so sad and down trodden.

When they got inside the mill, the noise was unbearable.

“Stay by my side” Mary said “The time is coming when you can help me” Angela had looked at her poor thin body, starting to crawl under the looms.

‘What are doing?’ she had cried!

‘This is my job, I have to follow the loom as it goes backwards and forwards, keeping it clear of fluff’

As she had disappeared, Angela’s hand had reached out and grabbed her and pulled her back. She knew the machine was faulty and about to suck her up into its jaws.

Mary had looked at her, saying

‘Thank you, you have saved my life. This is what you came for.

Angela shook her head; back in her cottage everything was normal, but it could never be the same now. Angela’s first instinct was to take out the drawing form the drawer; where she had placed it the night before; but to her surprise it had gone.

No, perhaps not such a surprise, it wasn’t a dream. The little girl was now safe. Angela only hoped that when she grew into a young lady, her life was better. I will stay in the cottage, Angela said to herself. One day, who knows, she may come back.

Pauline Faulkner
WOW

 

The Slatted Barn

Who could say who would be next?
For three actresses had already fled the scene
The directors cry of ‘it was only an owl’
Had fallen on closed and deafened ears.
Seeking solace in the slatted barn
They had vanished forever in its depth
Replicating the saga of the bloody murder
Where no trace of evidence was ever found.
A story that was all consuming to the author
And a hook for an ambitious, but blasé producer
After all actresses desperate for stardom were
Ten - a - penny and expendable. Granted, it is a
Very strange place, so achingly cold and damp
But perfect and atmospheric for the big screen.
They all felt it; the bone chilling silence
Words, learnt by rote, unspoken from painted lips.
Her declaration of returning love left hanging
Halted by the sudden opaqueness of her lover’s eyes.
A guttural scream echoed in the stillness of the set
A scream, no owl’s throat could ever express.
Breaking out of character, she fled from the lights,
Into the swallowing darkness of the slatted barn.

Written from a past FEDFEST Workshop.

Jan Hedger
WOW

 

Salvage And Salvation

Well, they didn’t ask me; no-one said ‘how are you?’ And me with a great big hole in my side, big enough to pass a whole body through without touching the sides; they just raised their voices amongst themselves, whilst my soul sank and I was speechless – drowning.

The only consolation, I suppose, was that I would be left to rest and rot in peace, for I am no meal for the circling sharks. Not like them – breakfast, dinner and tea they are. Fine dining for the sharks!

It does pain me though, that I let them down. I tried to tell the Captain, tried to turn to port – but no; as always he had to be the one in charge – even with a good slug of whisky inside him. Sharply, he had contradicted me and pulled the wheel back and I knew we were done for. I couldn’t save them.

The crunch, when it came was sickening. My hull was shattered – splintered and torn apart and I tasted thick salt in my mouth. Drowning like them – if they didn’t stop arguing; surely there some diplomats amongst them. At least if they look at it logically, they can save 6 maybe 8 of them, for my lifeboat survived unscathed. It is all I can offer them now, a chance, a choice – but I cannot make it for them.

The Captain, eager for liquor money had taken a back hander, and allowed on board, more than the lifeboats capacity, so now it was a lottery.

Their voices are becoming more muffled as I sink lower in the water, but instinct tells me that someone must have calmed the situation. I sigh ‘thank God, my Neptune’ and let the water wash over me. Lighter now, without the lifeboat – I knew that some had gone and I just caught a glimpse of faces looking back at me.

I am relieved for them, yet I cannot be sad for those left, for I don’t want to die alone – my biggest fear.

I just hope they forgive me.

Jan Hedger
WOW