The house that sang

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The House That Sang


It was early Autumn time. A dry and uneventful day at that as the world itself seemed to remain still and allow the daily activities of Nature to reign. In a still and lonesome part of the English countryside resided a modestly sized wheat field that seemed to encompass all that dwelled within this isolated landscape. Not an animal nor a bird was visible, no creature of any kind came to utter its wordless calls or sing its playful tune to a patient mate. Tall powerful trees beset with cracks and aged decay surrounded the wheat field like silent sentries with dried, dead leaves hanging lifelessly from their tenuous moorings. Their fragile corpses swaying silently in the swirling breeze, a gust brought on suddenly as it quickly gathered in strength and roared its way past everything in its way with no regard of any kind. The wind carried the colourful leaves from their parent trees, forcing them to perform elaborate patterns in the air as they danced in a colourful twirling ribbon-esque display before finally falling into the wheat field and disappearing into the shadows beneath. Hanging silently above the deserted fields resided a slightly cloudy sky with melted clouds of brown and grey that moved across the Heavens with great speed . In the distance a shadow began to appear. The shadow came closer and closer as it made its slow descent from a raised dirt road that stretched out towards the horizon.


The shadow grew more and more animated as its features began to grow ever more clear and vivid until the clear image of a young woman found her way into the light. She walked with a gentle ease with a great underlying confidence in her expression. The woman wore a long black cotton jacket that was buttoned tightly around her warmly while a thick pale brown wool scarf created warmth for her neck. Her trousers were a pale brown denim chequered material. On her hands she wore thick woollen gloves fingerless gloves that she rubbed together often with great intensity. It came from around this area, she was sure of it now. She had heard the sound only a few minutes ago and had taken a great effort to find this particular spot after walking in the wrong direction numerous times. She had heard it only for a few moments, but at the back of her mind she was certain what it was. It was the sound of a musical instrument of some kind, something like wind chimes or a triangle. At least, something that was capable of making dull high-pitched sounds. She walked to the edge of the wheat field crushing the sea of dead leaves beneath her brown silk shoes. She looked around in all directions as she struggled to hear the sound once again. Yet, all around her she could hear nothing but the same sounds of the wind, the rustling of the leaves and her own agitated breathing. The sound of a musical instrument being heard somewhere in the area was almost


certainly nothing to spend much time mulling over. After all, in a rural and picturesque area such as this there would undoubtedly be many people lucky enough to procure permanent residence here in a small farmhouse or refurbished cabin of some kind and the musical instrument in question would belong to a small child or a parent. And yet, relaying her memories back to herself of strolling through this particular part of the country yielded no such instances of inhabitants of any kind. Nor did she see anything like a bird, a fox, a rabbit or a badger. Nothing here of any kind that vaguely resembled a living creature. She thought about the peculiarity of it for a moment before dispelling it immediately choosing to concentrate on the task at hand. Taking a moment of relaxation, she leaned against one of the nearby trees and looked out across the dense wheat field stretching out before her in all directions. Narrowing her eyes as tightly as she could, she could just make out the fields beyond with grass of green, yellow and brown appearing misty and hazy in the distance almost like looking through crystal glass. Suddenly feeling the cold catching up to her, she pulled her coat tighter around her and folded her arms across her chest with her trembling fingers buried deeply into her garments. A small part of her began to consider the reality of what she was doing. How this had started as nothing more than simple stroll in the countryside to while away the time from home and experience the full beauty of an English


autumn and had now turned into a hunt for ghostly music playing in the wind. She laughed to herself as she heard the words in her mind feeling almost silly to undertake such a strange task. She looked around and began to consider giving up this ridiculous endeavour and go back home where it was warm and welcoming before something caught her eye. It was the tall looming wheat stalks standing in their thousands right before. She could not help but be in silent awe of their majestic movements in the passing breeze as they almost seemed to dance for her in an endless unearthly display. She watched almost hypnotised at the tall standing stalks as they swayed gently from side to side in the wind as they almost seemed to possess a vague form of consciousness and awareness that she were there. Indeed, everything here seemed to possess some form of strange kind of life to it, even the trees that stood around the wheat field in a single line appeared to almost be watching her. She jumped away from the tree and froze on the spot as she could once again hear the musical tones of what she had been searching for. It was close now, very close, almost within reaching distance. She could almost reach into the empty air and feel its rippling notes fly invisibly around her. She scanned the local horizon as she searched desperately for the source. She didn’t fully understand why, but she just had to find it, she just had to. Then, standing almost unseen deep within the jungle of the wheat field she saw it.


A small wooden shack of a building with a triangular roof appearing almost derelict and long abandoned from this distance. She blinked with glazed eyes as she spotted something flickering, a series of lights seemingly hanging from the rafters of the small structure glinting in the dying sunlight. This was where the sound was coming from, she was certain of that fact now. The musical tones that almost seemed to take possession of her were emanating from this very place. The house or whatever it was was calling to her, singing out its joyful and relaxing tune telling her to come closer and experience it in all of its vast and complex beauty. Slowly and with a serene expression on her face she began to wade her way through the wheat field with her arms outstretched ready to welcome whatever was calling for her. Before long, she had completely vanished within the thick entanglement of long stems. The way through the vast jungle of long stalks proved to be much more difficult a task than she had thought as she slowly made her way through, careful not to cut herself on the tiny spikes protruding from each spindly outgrowth. She watched in silence as the heads of each stalk swayed softly in the whispering wind almost like hands beckoning her on, pulling her in closer and closer. She took them delicately in her hands as they whispered to them that such an endeavour was not necessary on their part. She would come willingly, there was no need for further guidance.


The House wasn't far now, she though quietly to himself as she could see its steadily approaching dishevelled shape just a few yards away above the tall stalks.� The gentle haunting trill of the music in the distance guiding her closer and closer with every step she took. She felt no fear nor trepidation of any kind as she continued on her journey. It was as if something truly wonderful and kind was calling to her, telling her through its music that it bore her no ill will and wanted only to welcome her and allow her to full enjoy the gifts it wanted to offer her. Finally, she cleared the wheat field and now stood directly in front of the small wooden building that she now saw was indeed some kind of house. She looked up at the glinting lights that hung from the roof and surrounded the entire edifice and realised that they were wind chimes swaying in the breeze. Their main supports were wooden while the chimes themselves were silver and metallic decorated with tiny glass ornaments of flowers and various featureless shapes. The entire structure appeared to be built of numerous planks of wood nailed together to form the simple shell, planks that were once sturdy and solid that now hung from rusted nails exposing the darkness of the property within. At the front of the structure sat a small porch and front door. A small rickety wooden chair was propped up against the house facing the wheat field before it. She watched fascinated and yet anxious as the chair slowly rocked back and forth under the


force of the wind creaking painfully as it moved in its slow unending rhythm. For a moment, she could almost imagine someone sitting in the chair staring out at the deserted valley lost in their own thoughts. A Victorian spinster dressed in a long black lace dress with a wide skirt decorated with a white trim. Her hair done up into a bun and encased inside a strong straw bonnet allowing a few short curled trails to fall out from behind her. Her face was cracked, aged and pale along with her thin and tightly pressed lips. Her eyes a pale almost glassy green completely bereft of life or consciousness as she was lost forever within her own labyrinth of contemplations. Her trembling skeletal hand endlessly fiddling at the small broach she wore around her neck. There was a picture inside the broach, old blurry and faded. A silhouette of someone. Someone important‌ She shook her head and took a deep breath as she quickly pulled herself away from her imaginative daydreaming. Wiping at her face with her hands, she felt comforted by the soft feel of her cotton gloves against her cold skin. This house, indeed this entire valley certainly deserved to bore the reputation that it brought to mind. It was as though when you least expected it when your attention was diverted it would take control of your thoughts, your mind and whisper long forgotten memories in your ear giving life to the ghostly former inhabitants that had long since passed on. The House of Dreams. It was certainly a suitable name for such an unearthly


structure as it almost hinted at something beyond this world. But, perhaps given the ever-present subtle shadow of something dark and sinister lurking underneath its apparently quiet faรงade the House of Whispers seemed more appropriate. The House of Lies. But, such pretentious titles were best left to another more suitable day, preferably when this house would become nothing more than a memory to her as she sipped green tea in her comfortable home looking out of the window on a still summers day. She decided to survey the rest of the exterior of the house before she left. This was after all despite the mixture of emotions that rushed in on her whenever she beheld it still a truly remarkable abode in its simple nature. The small front door despite the rest of the house appeared to retain its former strength and remained tightly closed as it appeared wedged and locked into place within the robust doorframe which embraced it. In the centre of the door was fitted a tall narrow sheet of glass that was covered in dust and grime. Behind that on the other side hung a tattered and threadbare net curtain that blocked the view inside almost completely. Pressing her face up against the glass with the her gloved hands either side to block out the light she struggled to see past the rot and decay and into the empty rooms. She saw nothing but soot and dust that had caked up against the glass. Beyond that nothing but formless and unidentifiable silhouetted shapes, quite possibly various


ornaments and furniture that were long abandoned by their owners. And yet, the closer she peered and squinted at these shadows the more they seemed to move around the room forming into a large overwhelming darkness that stood and watched her through the glass. She pulled away realising that it was obviously her active imagination helped along by the hazy shapes within and the decay of the glass. Turning around, she once again scanned the horizon seeing nothing but the wheat field surrounding her in all directions almost giving the impression that beyond that nothing existed. She realised she couldn’t even see the fields or trees beyond anymore. She’d been in the wheat field for no more than a few minutes, hardly long enough to create an impenetrable wall so high that she couldn’t see anything beyond it. There was something strange here, she could feel it. She looked up at the wind chimes that still played out their endless tunes out into the blustery air. While their songs were still pleasant to listen to, the more she stared at them the more unnatural they seemed as they danced like fairies, their movements reminding her of the bizarre dance rituals of Morris dancers. She could not turn away from them as her unblinking eyes stared closer and closer at their tiny little details that pulled her in with every passing moment, charming her and lulling her in with their siren calls.


Almost suffering a sharp pain in her neck, she quickly pulled herself away from them as she struggled to keep herself warm in this unnatural valley. The wind had now started to gather in strength becoming almost a typhoon in the space of only a few minutes. Something about this place was very wrong, she could definitely feel it now. It was as if the entire valley were alive and was mocking her with its small collective sounds, laughing at her in their defeat and their triumph of baiting her with its sickly sweet songs. Panic began to grip her as she felt an irresistible urge to run for her life before realising that she was now imprisoned behind a circle of bars of wheat. Tears streamed down her face as she began to cry as a great well of despair and sadness engulfed her entire soul as if punishing her for being baited so easily. She looked around in all directions for a possible way out before being reminded once again that such a task was impossible. She turned around and beheld the empty house before her. She surveyed it quickly from top to bottom as she surmised that this was the one place out of anywhere that could possibly serve as some kind of defence against whatever pervading evil had made its home here. Yet, she couldn’t be certain as to whether the house was just as dangerous as out here in the wilds of nature and perhaps she was walking right into their trap.


But, after all, did she have any choice? Realising the futility of her actions, she began to whimper and tremble as she quickly grabbed a tight hold of the small rusted brass doorknob and pulled on it with all her might. Surprisingly, the door came open without any effort and swung outward sharply with a resounding creak of rotten wood. Looking back at the wheat field around her, she immediately turned back and scrambled inside the house pulling the door closed shut behind her with a powerful slam that could be heard echoing all around the place. A sudden faint gust of wind passing quickly before the door closed like a cold hand struggling to ensnare her. The faded and crumbling wood creaking noisily as the rotten fibres cracked and splintered. Breathless and still filled with fear, she pressed herself up against the wall and turned her head sharply in all directions to get a clear view of her new surroundings and perceive any form of threat. The interior of the house looked exactly as it had appeared when she peaked through the windows. Covered in dust and grime and filled with numerous ancient antique relics of a time long since past that had now been forgotten and left to slowly fade away. The room she found herself in appeared to be a miniature reception room designed to greet visitors. In every corner she saw numerous small wooden tables with


intricately carved legs. Their surfaces covered in a thick immaculate layer of dust, undisturbed for years. On each of the table sat a small brass oil lamp with the hourglass standing above. Walking over towards one of the tables, she delicately touched and caressed the faded brass base of one of the lamps feeling its surface ice cold and roughened with age. How delightful this particular object would look sitting on her fireplace back home. A memento of her experiences in this place for her to treasure in years to come. Or, perhaps, a reminder never to enter the forbidden chamber again. Deciding that the house would probably not take kindly to someone claiming its undiscovered treasures for themselves she slowly backed away from it keeping her eyes firmly on its glossy surface. The house was happy enough to allow her entry within it to explore, it was certainly a whole other matter to steal its belongings. She heaved another deep sigh. Joining each lamp was a small stack of mouldy old books with leather bindings that was now the home to spreading mildew and fungus. On opposite ends of the room sat two tall identical vases with tall leaf stalks protruding above them. The once healthy green skin of each plant now withered to mummification and black in colour. On each vase was painted a series of tree branches and leaves in dark blue paint that had since begun to chip away revealing the crude white plaster beneath.


Bookcases and shelves of even more books lined each wall all of them now far too rotten to read or even pick up without the threat of reducing them to ashes in moments. She looked at the walls behind the bookcases decorated with long strips of pale striped wallpaper with the repeating image of a single dark blue leaf covering the surface. She looked on ahead past the room towards a large double door with inset frosted glass and large golden brass doorknobs opening into the rest of the house. Beyond that, she could make out through the dense fog of decay an ascending wooden staircase covered in a thick dark red carpet leading up to the floor above. At the bottom of the stairs she noticed another small wooden table, this one painted white with rusted iron legs. A small ink well with a white feather adorned its surface with a heavily faded threadbare doily sitting underneath. She pressed her gloved hand up against her nose and mouth as she struggled to keep the foul odour of stale unkempt air from her senses and continued on in her explorations. Her slow footsteps pressed down firmly onto the bare wooden floor planks beneath, planks that were now so rotten she feared that they would at any moment give way and collapse under her weight sending her falling into a black abyss beneath the house where she would fall forever, her fingers groping wildly at the


black empty air which swallowed her whole. She managed a slight chuckle at that thought. Anything to keep her growing anxiety and distant terrors at bay. The further on she walked inside the house deeper into its unnatural interiors she felt a cold rush of panic suddenly gripped her soul like ice. Every instinct in her body told her to run, to escape. This wasn’t a natural place, she could feel that. Something about it screamed of a sinister nature, an underlying phantasmal feeling of danger lurking all around her, the ever-present creeping feeling of mortal dread. And yet, despite all of these almost tangible fears, she felt completely calm. Terrified in her bones and in the deepest core of her soul and yet feeling no desire to turn and run, to break down the door and escape this place for the familiar warmth of her home that was waiting for her. There was something here, a secret that waited to be found. The house was a house of mystery, a puzzle that longed to be unlocked and for its treasures to be discovered. Something, somewhere deep inside this house was pulling her closer, goading her on and on deeper inside these deteriorating walls. Whatever that was or what its nature hinted at, she couldn’t be certain. But, no matter what she would discover it. She was Pandora, this was her gift box of secrets given to her like a Jack In The Box that contained either all of the delights or all of the sorrows of the world.


Slowly, with every step she was turning the brass handle waiting for whatever was waiting for her to appear at last. At last, after much tense anticipation the doorknob came to a loud click and she slowly pushed the doors open. The doors easily swung open in a swinging motion joined by the intensely whistling creak of the hinges in the dried wood allowing the full visage of the main hall of the house to come into view. She remained standing in the doorway with her tongue pressed up against the back of her teeth as her whole body remained stiff and still while she waited for any kind of response to her intrusion. Perhaps this house wasn’t as abandoned as she thought. Perhaps, there was someone living in this house who perhaps did not know that she was here. Perhaps they were infirm or deaf. Perhaps they were sleeping upstairs somewhere in a bedroom unseen. They might have heard her enter the house, but out of fear and the obvious complete lack of visitors would mean that they were too terrified to call out to inquire as to who was there, just who was lurking inside their own home. They may very well be upstairs at this very moment lying in bed, wide awake with eyes open and insane with terror and panic listening closely to her footsteps. Or, perhaps they were able to move. They had the courage to get up out of bed and quieten their footsteps enough over this aging woodwork to disguise their presence


and were silently watching her now. Perhaps not just one individual. If they were so skilled and adept at moving silently and invisibly like a ghost it was very likely there could be more of them. More of them waiting, waiting for her. Watching and waiting‌ She shook her head and gritted her teeth together as she struggled to rid herself of these chaotic thoughts. Such ideas did not nothing to help her in this situation. True, she was possibly trespassing in someone’s home, someone who could very likely be living here and very likely had gone outside for a stroll just as she had. Nothing could be gained from such frightening and fanciful notions. All that remained right now was to explore further. Slowly, she stepped through the doorway leading into the main hall. The foul smell of the stale air suddenly striking her senses with the force of a brick wall causing her to stumble slightly and cover her nose and mouth again. A gentle tear fell from her eye and she quickly wiped it away. The air in here had most definitely not been exposed to the outside in a very long time creating almost a tomb-like sepulchral air about the place giving the impression of untold numbers of bodies lying beneath the floorboards. She immediately banished this thought as she suddenly felt uncomfortable walking across a decaying wooden floor. She looked up and noticed three separate doorways leading off into other parts of


the house. This was a surprising find as it seemed as though from the outside the house resembled something akin to a wooden shed or a shack, yet this level of architecture hinted at something much larger. Perhaps she was seeing things, maybe the air in here had begun to affect her senses. She feared that was not the case as this reality would severely hamper her chances of eventually leaving this place. She made a mental note that the room which led to the outside had the lovely oil lamp on the table. She looked directly ahead at the long shadowy corridor stretching out before her with a series of large glass gas lamps protruding from either side of the corridor with a small plain wooden door on the opposite side. In the top half of the door was a small window hiding behind a pair of short pink cotton curtains decorated with flying butterflies. She thought for a moment that the butterflies were pretty even in such dim light before the image of the darkened corridor and the closed door at the end of it filled her with a rising sense of dread and anxiety. She began to tremble slightly as she slowly backed away from it, her footsteps creaking noisily ever step she made keeping her eyes firmly on the door and the partially obscured window. Finally, she turned away and kept her attention on the floor. For some strange reason just looking at the door just a few yards away filled her with mortal terror as if she was aware of something beyond the door laying in wait for her, something


with an insidious motive. This house was very strange there was no doubt about it. And yet, despite the sense of foreboding she felt as it clung tightly to the outer faรงade of the building she felt a comfortable sense of peace from wandering the corridors and many rooms that the structure possessed. But then, despite her casual sense of exploration she realised that soon it would be dark and the soft light shining brightly from outside would soon be gone and so decided to merely explore a little of the second floor before she made her final departure. Walking up towards the tall bending staircase, she gasped as her foot made purchase against the sloping red carpet covering each step suddenly breath out a thick burst of dust from its ancient fibres. She watched as they quickly ascended into the air dancing and twirling silently through the pastel sunlight shining down onto her before it finally dissipated and vanished completely into nothingness. Feeling suddenly upbeat and cheerful at this tiny little miracle she allowed herself to smile brightly as she continued on up the stairs feeling the warmth of the soft sunlight delicately caress her skin. As she ascended the pale wooden staircase, a myriad of smells suddenly entered her nose and invaded her senses as all at once she could feel the almost tangible odour of the house. Its stench of decay of dust and rot smelled like burnt wood,


almost as if the house was ravaged by an uncontrollable fire, but was invisible and silent. The idea made her chuckle. The dust was almost like the endless rings of a tree as it softly hinted at the age of the building carrying with it a vivid history of the family that once resided within it, their collected memories of happiness, despair of death and toil, birth and old age contained in the grey fluff that covered almost every available surface and in every nook and cranny. Their final sacrifice to the home which sheltered them and contained their lives now locked up forever never to be disturbed. Reaching the top of the stairs, she immediately saw a small wooden table next to the top of the stairs with a doily draped over its surface. A small dark green telephone sat upon it. For a brief moment, time seemed to stop as she stood in silence staring at the telephone half expecting it to cry out suddenly with its harsh monotonous trill shattering the silent ambience that was so thick that it was choking. The seconds passed as she stared at the phone, a part of her considering whether or not to pick up the receiver and call someone. Not that she had anyone to call anyway for any reason. And yet, something indefinable within her pushed and prodded against her subconscious for her to follow through with her instincts and call. She shrugged her shoulders. Just picking it up wouldn’t do any harm, most likely it


was as dead and lifeless as everything else in here. Slowly, she reached towards the phone with her open hand, her breath becoming heavy in her throat as each moment passed. She picked up the receiver and slowly moved it close to her ear. Her eyes lit up with surprise. She could hear a dial tone. Feeling an intense sense of disbelief, she moved the receiver away from her ear and proceeded to place it back on the telephone before an anxious voice called out to her from the earpiece. Shock and panic engulfed her as she almost threw it down onto the floor before something took hold of her and kept her rapt attention whereupon she cautiously placed her ear against it once again waiting fearfully for the voice to speak. “I am so very sorry for all that has happened.” Said the tearful voice of a frightened young woman. She could do nothing but listen on to this peculiar voice despite everything in her soul telling to flee immediately. “I tried to protect you when you needed me the most, but I failed. And I am so, so sorry for what happened to you. I can never forgive myself. I love you so much. You are my everything, my whole world and I cannot bear to be without you. Shh! I can hear him now, he’s coming up the stairs. Oh, God. Oh, my God! He’s here! PLEASE, DON’T HURT…”


She dropped the receiver in shock as the woman’s voice suddenly cut off into static leaving the receiver to collapse in a heavy thud against the carpeted floor. The reverberations shook the foundations of the entire house causing it to tremble slightly. She stood for a long moment staring off into space struggling to move as the soft muffled sound of a dial tone could be heard coming from the phone. And then, another sound came. This one deeper, slower, but filled with a great sense of purpose as she could hear heavy footsteps slowly making their way through the house downstairs. The woman began to panic and resisted the urge to scream as she clamped her hand tightly over her mouth. Her fragile nerves strong enough momentarily to allow her to quickly peek over the guardrail beside the staircase and looked downstairs. She briefly saw the slow moving tall shadow of someone silently making their way from room to room downstairs before she violently pulled herself back up and looked with wild terrified eyes at the closed doors before her. Each one of them was closed and there wasn’t time to check which were locked and which weren’t. Not to mention which if any had anywhere to hide.

The footsteps slowly approached the bottom of the staircase.


Over here, came a child’s whispered voice from a darkened hallway stretching out before her as a door slowly and silently opened by itself.

The footsteps made their slow, heavy ascent up the stairs with powerful banging sounds.

Realising her choices were extremely slim right now, she had no choice but to follow the mysterious voice into the opened room. She darted across the carpeted floor careful not to make much noise as well as to not be seen even as a fleeting shadow by her mysterious visitor. Her bloodstream filled with adrenaline that made her heart beat so fast she feared it would burst, she threw herself through the open door and into the room inside. The door closing quickly and noisily again. She hardly time to fully analyze her surroundings before she frantically searched for a decent hiding place and quickly hid behind a large green moth-eaten sofa facing in the opposite direction. Curling up in the foetal position on the floor and piling the sofa cushions on top of her, she hid herself as quickly as she could until she could discern not a single crack of light permeating its way through her makeshift fortress of cushions. Her


body trembling frantically, her heart beating noisily in her head. Outside, she could hear the slow pounding footsteps slowly approach the closed door. For a moment, she thought that she could hear them walk away to a door on the opposite side before her entire body froze as she heard them suddenly run maniacally across the floor and towards her door at which point she could hear someone pounding and kicking against the door with all of their might. Struggling to escape the terror building up inside her like a madness, she pressed her hands up against her head and closed her eyes as tightly as she could as she whispered through rivers of tears. Please, go away, she said, her lips trembling wildly. Please, don’t hurt me. Where are you? You promised that you’d protect me. Please, save me! Suddenly, all noise and activity ceased as the pounding and the kicking from outside stopped abruptly returning the house once again into silence. She stopped her whispered torments for a moment as she could sense the change. Slowly, she pulled away the cushions that covered her frightened form and looked around at the room surrounding her. Gone now as the faint summery ambience that clung onto the house like a cobweb. The faint golden glow that hovered pleasantly in the air had vanished as if it were never there leaving the house to dwell within a darkened shadow of an oncoming


night-time. Slowly, standing up, she looked around in disbelief as all of a sudden she felt completely abandoned and lost. Almost as if the world had left her behind in its past as it continued on into the future. The fear was gone now, the panic and terror forgotten leaving behind in its wake a heightened sense of bewilderment and emptiness. She had become a ghost in a world suddenly bereft of all life. The feeling while strange was enough to cause a few more drops of tears to fall from her eyes. She half-heartedly wiped them away. As she looked around the room with a stumbling step, she could feel the thick layer of dust that hung oppressively in the air like an invisible cobweb enshrouding her in its musty aroma. The smell of faded memories and feelings of nostalgia just out of reach became vivid in her senses flooding her mind with unfamiliar memories. She flinched suddenly as her wandering feet caught something hard and creaking against the wall. Her body jumped with electricity as she looked down panicstricken at a small wooden rocking horse sat in-between an old dusty set cupboard and a small bright yellow ball. The horse was fitted with two matching threadbare reins of a deep scarlet colour. The horse itself was painted a deep oak brown and still retained its polished shine despite being coated in an eternity’s worth of dust. Slowly, she reached out with her trembling pale fingers and bent down to touch the horse. It was cold and smooth as she felt it like ice against her fingertips. Running


her hands across its entire body, she felt her way along its long neck and its intricately carved mane with a great almost child-like delight. She sat calm yet fascinated as an endless ocean of memories came forth the more she caressed this children’s toy. In her mind, she saw herself as a little girl playing with it for many hours dressed in a tiny white dress with red spots with bright yellow ribbons in her pigtails. She chuckled to herself as she could see as vividly as if it was happening right before her eyes how happy she was back then to rock back and forth on it. The ball‌ Reaching over, she picked up the small yellow ball and held it in front of her carefully studying its shiny surface. The deeper she looked into its glossy exterior the more she was mentally transported away into this peculiar land of a stranger’s memories. She could see herself playing all those years ago with that very ball, throwing it and rolling it through the corridors and bouncing it against the walls of every room laughing with great delight. How angry mother used to get when she did that. Mother! Her mother, she could see her as clear as day in this very house knitting, sewing, fixing her dress and treating her bruises when she fell down. She was here, they were both here in this house. Years ago and yet only a few moments ago.


What’s happening to me? She asked herself perplexed with chaotic memories coursing rapidly through her thoughts. I’ve never been to this house before, I know I haven’t. But, everything feels so familiar to me, I recognise everything here. It is mine, but at the same time it doesn’t belong to me. I am the little girl in these memories that aren’t mine. She’s so happy, but at the same time she’s so scared. My mother, she is…afraid too. My mother, where is she? I have to find her! Her hand went limp as she suddenly stood upright allowing the ball to fall to the floor and bounce repeatedly against the hardwood surface bringing with it rising clouds of dust before it finally came to a stop beside the rocking horse. Then, as if on command the horse began to gently rock back and forth of its own volition creaking like the sound of footsteps against old wood. She watched the horse rock back and forth with a growing sense of fear. Not fear of the horse moving by itself, but another fear. Something much more intangible. Something that was happening years ago and at the same time right this moment. She barely had any time to gather her thoughts on what to do before she sharply turned to the left as the sound of something hard came crashing against the small circular window beside her. It was a tree branch banging against the glass from the force of a strong wind that was raging outside. She pressed herself up against the glass with her hands holding tightly to the windowsill. Outside, she could see the large leafless tree jerk


violently in all directions like a deranged maniac, the wheat field stretching far beyond the horizon becoming a flurry of activity as the stalks were sent crashing cruelly against one another in a surreal landscape of chaos and destruction. She fell back suddenly as the wheat gathered in its thousands and came crashing against the window with intense force to the point she thought it would shatter completely. The fear in her became indescribable now as it seemed as though nature itself were raging war on her humble soul. She couldn’t bear it, she had to escape, get out of here now while she still had the chance. Turning on her painful heels, she ran as fast as she could for the door and reached out for doorknob and pulled and turned it all at once in one violent tug enough to almost tear it from its moorings with sharp splintered wood. The door came open with a sharp violent swing allowing her to escape into the hallway. She turned to the left and raced for the main staircase leading downstairs before she stopped in her tracks with a terrible cry. Everything in the hallway had been reduced to destruction as all of the ornaments and furniture lay scattered in broken pieces all across the floor as if some terrible calamity had befallen in complete silence as she was none the wiser. The monstrous thought pierced her heart enough to make her shiver in terror. For a brief moment she saw her mother again in her mind. She was terrified just as she


was, but this was an old fear for the both of them as her mother quickly hid them both away in one of the adjacent rooms. They were running from something, something that was looking for them. Something‌dangerous. Large, angry and powerful. What was it? What is happening to me?! Then, as if in answer to her question she again began to hear the awful sound of slow heavy footsteps making their ascent up the main staircase towards her. Horror beyond words sharply retracted the desire to scream as she stood open-mouthed and frozen to the spot. Then, she heard a voice. In here, quickly! It was her mother’s voice whispering to her from somewhere nearby. Crying and whimpering, she quickly turned her head to the right and looked behind her as she noticed a door opened ajar. Her mother was in there she was certain of it. She was waiting for her to protect her from the terrible danger that sought so menacingly for their blood. She ran as quickly as she could into the room pushing the door open with her forearms as they were pressed against her chest fully expecting to see the welcoming sight of her mother standing before her. But, there was nothing. Nothing but another room as empty and dejected and


abandoned as everywhere else in this house. She hardly had any time for tears and growing despair as she could hear the footsteps getting closer. Turning round in shock, she realised that she didn’t have enough time to shut the door behind her and had no choice but to quickly scan the room for a hiding place. Through the mess of decayed furniture and children’s toys covered in dust she found her only escape from this awful madness. The closet built into the far wall. It was big enough for her and her mother. No doubt her mother was in there right now waiting for her. Feeling a slight sense of safety coursing through her body with a welcoming warmth, she hurriedly ran across the room careful not to disturb any of her mother’s thing and quickly found the small brass doorknob embedded into the pale brittle wood of the closet door. She gave it a turn and the doorknob clicked in response. She smiled. It was unlocked. Opening the door wide, she was met with the powerful gust of sepulchral air wafting with a terrible stench against her tear-streaked face and beheld the image of herself as the little girl with the yellow ribbons in her hair and her sweet protective mother staring back at her with their black empty eye sockets. Their skeletal remains sat up almost lifelike inside the darkened closet still wearing the


clothes she remembered them to be wearing now completely covered in dust and grime. The tiny skeletal hand of the little girl still holding onto the skeletal hand of her mother who embraced her in her lifeless lap. And so, as if oblivious to the grotesque picture that was presented to her, she quickly climbed inside with them and closed the closet door shut behind her just in time to hear her slow-moving pursuer make his way into the room. She was terrified that they would be found. What was he going to do to them if he found them in here hiding? She didn’t know, all’s she knew was that she was very scared. Slowly, through the gloom she watched as her hand slowly came into contact with the bony hand of her mother and wrapped her fingers around it holding it tightly. She looked up at her mother’s blank empty stare and rictus-like grin on her face and she smiled in response before burying her head in her mother’s empty bosom. Mummy will keep me safe. While we’re in here nothing can hurt us as long as we’re together. I love you, mummy. I always have…

The End


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