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twilight8218

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<div style="border:1px #ccc solid; background-image:url('/images/ray.gif'); font-family:arial; width:200px; padding:5px;"><center><div style="font-size:20px;"><a href="/story/twilight8218/36908">Eerie</a></div><table><tr><td width="50"><div style="color:#2CC362; font-size:15px; padding-top:4px; background-image:url('/images/profratebg.gif'); background-repeat:no-repeat; width:44px; height:26px; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; vertical-align:middle; padding-top:8px; padding-left:1px; " valign="top">20</div></td><td><div style="height:100px;width:100px; padding-top:9px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url(/images/storyCover.png);"><a href="/story/twilight8218/36908"><div style="margin-left:9px; __padding:0px; height:90px; width:70px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url('http://www.testriffic.com/storyfiles/36908.jpg');"></div></a></div></td></tr></table></center></div>

+ 14	Becca (18)
+ 13	Hearing is Believing (2)
+ 11	Diary of Secrets (2)
+ 10	Diary of Secrets
+ 12	Becca (17)
+ 13	Hearing is Believing (1)
+ 20	Hearing is Believing
+ 14	Becca (16)
+ 18	Becca (15)
+ 21	Becca (14)
+ 14	Ravenwood Manor (3)
+ 21	Becca (13)
+ 21	Becca (12)
+ 22	Becca (11)
+ 15	Ravenwood Manor (2)
+ 30	Becca (10)
+ 23	Scream.
+ 24	Ravenwood Manor (1)
+ 36	Becca (9)
+ 27	Ravenwood Manor (Intro)

Eerie

 

 

 

 

A cool breeze whipped around my head as I swung lightly back and forth upon the porch. The night was like any other as the lunar crescent shone through the clouded masses of objects around it. I could almost feel the wildness of the forest as the wind brought its scent toward me.

The depth of the dark wood had that certain eeriness to it that it had at nightfall; as if there was something lurking beneath the shadows.

My rocking chair swayed back and forth as I sniffled from the gust of chilly wind. I had lived here my whole life and every night I always did the same thing: sit out on my porch.

I could feel my glasses sliding off so I moved my frail and bony fingers up to shove them back to their spot. I really did hate to wear glasses; they made me feel, well, old. It’s not that I am denying that I am old (some people even call me ancient) but I do not want to feel that way.

I want to feel young and vibrant again as I once had when I was a young one. My golden pigtails would sweep across my face as I jumped up and down and my knees would get scuffed up from rough-housing with the neighborhood boys.

But my mind truly was old. Things would slip my mind and when I would remember it would be too late.

My heart was old. Loves would pass away and then be forgotten into the crevasses in my heart.

My body was old. I could barely move without feeling a sharp pain.

I even looked old. Billows of gold had transformed into waves of white and my skin has become so pale and wrinkly that I am able to see the veins pulsing through.

I was old.

I grimaced in disgust at my accusation, even though it was true. I didn’t like that feeling. Youngsters always want to help me out with the simplest of tasks and people take pity on my soul because of my frailness. I was no porcelain doll, I could handle myself.

I heard a soft purring beside me and that shot me out of my thoughts and brought me back to reality. I smiled in spite of the fact that it had only been Ginny, my orange puff ball of a cat.

“Hello girl.” I whispered sympathetically while picking her fluffy body up and settling her upon my lap. Used to this gesture, Ginny nuzzled her head into my stomach and began making herself comfortable.

Her purring became louder but I liked it because it was very soothing on this especially quiet night. Sometimes I wished that I lived by a lake so that I could just look out and see a nice mass of water but I only lived out in the woods and the closest thing to water was the stream that was down the way.

I remembered when the grandchildren would come and visit me but now they were all so busy with their lives and jobs. I remembered little Lucy jumping up and down in excitement at my front steps but as time went on she was hardly little.

She matured greatly and rather than leaving her caramel hair long like she had used to it was now cut into a stylish bob. The summer dresses were then replaced by business suits that she needed in her role in the law system.

Then there was Connor. He too had matured, but in a different way. He had always been the one for trouble but I never knew how hard that quality would backfire at him. Connor’s trouble making tactics had landed him in prison for quite a long time. I believe it has been more than a decade since I last saw him.

Kim, my only daughter, had visited me just last year but she too has been busy. Busy, traveling the world, that is. Last I heard she was in New Zealand.

And her I was, all alone in my little cabin with a cat as my only company. Raymond, my husband, died many years back from poor health and ever since then I haven’t had anyone to talk to.

An owl that was hooting signaled me that it was probably time to go to bed so I cradled Ginny in my arms and walked into my home. The lights were dimly lit, as they should be, as I moved slowly through my wooded home.

Floorboards creaked with my every step which vaguely reminded me of how old this home was. Ever since my childhood I have lived here and I just couldn’t bear to part with it. Ginny’s purring vanished slightly at the movement of my swaying body but she still stayed locked in my arms.

I had to set her down though when I entered my room so that I could open my armoire and get out my nightgown. She grudgingly sprawled across my bed and her insulted expression made me chuckle. She has always been keen for things going her way and if they don’t she will show a bit of resentment but only for a while.

I pulled out my ivory gown and slowly but surely put it on. It was looser than it had been a few months ago but that small detail didn’t bother me that much; I knew that I was getting frailer by the day.

A branch from a nearby tree scratched against my window and from the obnoxious noise I jumped in surprise. My pulse accelerated and I tried very hard not to scream so only a gasp escaped my throat. Ginny opened one eyelid and gave me almost a cynical look before closing it and going back to her small nap.

I laughed half-heartedly at myself before moving fluidly over to my mirrored dresser and grabbing a comb. Unlike most people when they go over the age of eighty, I kept my hair long and always down (sometimes I piled it in a bun, but not usually).

Combing it always brought back memories from my childhood when my mother would take her comb and brush my golden locks. In fact, it was this very same mirror. Of course, the reflection in the glass has changed quite a bit.

I smiled in spite of the fact that I was once again thinking about the past. Putting down the comb, I joined Ginny on my bed and pushed down the covers. But then I stopped and glanced over at the window. For some reason tonight I had the urge to open it and let the cool midnight air flow through.

Impulsively, I did so and went back to my bed after turning off the lights. Then I closed my dark and heavy eyes and went to sleep like any other night.

 

 

 

I skimmed past the edge of the stream. The world seemed bigger, taller than usual and it took me a second to realize that I was wearing no shoes.

No shoes?

That isn’t right; if anything I wear my slippers.

I peered around me only to find that I was running! Actually running! This didn’t make sense; I could not even run a little bit. I looked once more down at my feet only to find them dirtied from the mud, but there was something about them that made my whole body jolt with surprise.

There were no wrinkles visible and from what I could tell they were small and dainty like a child’s. I pushed my hands into my sight and noticed the very same thing.

Déjà vu—I thought looking around myself. I have been here, on a day just like this, when I was… a child. This was the day I went out looking for fireflies but I was so eager that I ran off of my porch at sunset.

This was that day.

Realization flickered through me but I couldn’t stop, it seemed like I wasn’t in control. As if on cue I heard my father roar my name through the dim forest.

“Rosie!” His voice was strong as usual but there was a hint of sadness to it that I hadn’t realized at the time.

I wanted to stop, to just get away from the dreaded truth that was waiting for me but my body carried me back to my father’s voice. My desire was to cry, or even to scream but the same lines bubbled through my lips.

“Yes, daddy?”

He said nothing and gripped my hand lightly. He didn’t even smile and that was the first thing that had gotten my suspicion going. His hand left mine and he suddenly picked me up like he used to when I was a baby.

I remember wriggling in his grasp but I said nothing because he was frightening me.

He carried me into the house and told me that he was sorry.

“Rosie, mommy’s very sick and she needs to see you…” His voice had cracked twice and I nodded remembering that mommy has been in bed for the past few months.

I didn’t waste any time going into the room but I wanted to close my eyes so desperately for I knew the sight. I tried to shut it out of my mind but nothing worked not even a simple blink occurred. But to my astonishment it was not my mother that was looking at me, it was me!

I looked the same; long white hair, haggard and careworn appearance, and the same dark eyes. There I was where mother was supposed to be, dead because I had not been quick enough to say goodbye, a smile upon my face.

 

 

 

I jumped up and out of my dream only to find my body soaking with sweat. Not only that, but I was shaking terribly because the night air had gotten colder. I tried to calm myself down that it had only been a dream, that it was not real, but in actuality it was real.

That really had happened, even though it was supposed to be my mother dead, that happened and as I just recalled it was in this bed that she died.

I quickly got out of the bed and shot out of the room so that I could get some water. I didn’t even bother to turn on the lights because I was so caught up in my current problem. Most of my curtains were closed which made it even harder to see but I thought that I knew my house well enough now.

Then I felt something hook my ankle—a table? But before I could even think about what it was I was hurdling to the ground and landing with a loud thud. A small moan of pain escaped my lips as I lied across the floor.

My hips, legs and arms throbbed from the same pain and in unison but it was my head that hurt the most. It felt as if something was draped over my eyes so I couldn’t see and was crawling down my throat.

I tasted its sickly salty taste and gagged weakly. Blood.

My breathing wasn’t coming out rapidly; in fact it was coming out slower than usual. I had a sudden urge to call my daughter or even Lucy (or if possible) Connor. The pain wasn’t as bad as it should’ve been. It was a numb and mysterious pain that overcame me and disoriented my mind.

They say that when you die that your whole life flashes before your eyes but I saw nothing so I wasn’t dying, right? I could barely even remember what I had been thinking about a minute or two ago… or was it hours?

Instead of wanting to cry out I wanted to sleep. My eyes didn’t sting as much as they had when they were open so I felt a small tinge of relief spread throughout my body.

Then something exploded into my mind, an image that always had brought me joy as a child. Fireflies! They were everywhere! Each flitted across my vision with such a warmth that I couldn’t help but smile.

I looked at my hands and they once more were that of a child’s and I could see my golden hair shining in the moonlight behind me. Then all of a sudden the fireflies became one big mass of light and I gasped at the radiance of it.

It called to me, beckoned me in but I looked around me and saw my cabin. I could almost hear Ginny purring in my bedroom through the unclosed window. I shook my head at the light and ran quickly back to my porch.

Then as quickly as it came it vanished and there I sat as a child as still as stone on my rocking chair.

This was my home.

 

 

 

 

(Author’s Note: I got a little bored and I just thought I’d write something rather than some long story that I usually do. So enjoy my short story!)

(Oh and if you don’t believe in an afterlife or whatever that is fine with me just don’t post comments saying you don’t because this is just a story and you can keep your personal beliefs to yourself because this is not promoting mine and I am not forcing them onto you.)

 

 

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