2020

A Chapter by Katy Knight

The Prologue. The warnings.

They said she was able to utter a few words before she died; that her words made no sense. But in her last few years, nothing seemed to make sense. It was dark and gloomy the night she passed. But that was almost a year ago. No one spoke of a delusional woman after she was gone. Nobody had any reason to. Nor did they want to. In fact, it was a relief when she took her last breath. I never understood why, though. There was nothing good or happy about death. But she was different. Probably too different for her own good. But I feared to speak of her. I didn’t dare ask about her. From the times I had spent with her I had learnt very little. She had often told me to beware, then her warnings would fade away as my parents hurried me out of the room, saying ‘Don’t listen, Honey, she’s tired and doesn’t know what she’s talking about’. And so I would wait outside, trying to make sense of their arguing and yelling. I never did, though. So I just lay out there, wondering if she was right. Could she really have known the future?

It was a strange night, there seemed to be a chill in the air. I looked up at the stars, and I thought I saw her, pulling her calm, twinkling smile. Something brushed against me and my surprise turned to horror as I saw it. As real as I, she stood there. The wind whipped around the corner, moaning and warning me that something was about to happen. But it was impossible. She was dead. Her hair was greyed with age, her lips pursed into a smile. Elderly lines full of worries and concern were embossed into her plump face. Her short, frail body leaned menacingly over mine. Had I have been standing though, she would only have just reached my shoulder. I felt myself squirm away. My imagination was, once again, playing tricks on me. It had to be.

“Harper,” she murmured, her voice rough and scratchy, ‘don’t you remember?’

It sounded like her. But something was wrong. Something was different.

‘Don’t you remember, Harper?’ She asked again, waiting for a response she wouldn’t receive.

Remember what? I couldn’t think about anything when a lady, who was dead, to make matters worse, was standing over me. Her pitch black eyes blended into the night, her silvery hair weaving through the stars like dancing ribbons. No, it was all wrong. Her eyes were not black! No, they were green, like mine. Of that I was certain. This was not her at all, but who was she? Then it hit me like a bullet straight through my gut. She was right. She always had been and they all knew it. That’s why they were scared. That’s why they never let me listen. Her words tortured and hung over them like a shadow, relentlessly watching their every movement. But I only continued to stare, wondering how she could possibly have known. Then, without controlling myself, I jumped up and took two shifty steps backwards. In all my nine years I had never experienced anything so frightening.

She reached out a short arm as far as it would go and tried to touch me. But yet another shuffle backwards stopped her.

“Tell me you remember!” She began to yell, “Tell me! Tell me now, Harper! Harper, get back here now and tell me you remember…” and she faded away and became one with the darkness as I sprinted away as fast as my legs would carry me.

Her words twisted into the shadows, scratching away at the silence. She frightened me; made me fear the darkness. Her sheer presence made me feel cold, and so I ran. I could have flown down the track along the hill. The lane at the bottom was adorned with golden flames flickering and swaying in the cool breeze. It painted the faces of its residents a ghostly white. But I had no time to pay any heed to them, I had to escape. She had known this day would come, it was just a matter of when; now, was when. I didn’t know exactly what this day was, though, I just knew what it was going to be tomorrow, and that was something to be avoided. Something that should have been, no, could have been avoided, if they had only listened.