Ethel's Lagoon

Ethel's Lagoon

A Story by Sophie McN
"

Next week's short story for my creative writing class. This is the first draft so still got some editing to do. Leave reviews!

"

“Your turn, Christie. Truth or dare?” Emma asked, then quickly glanced at Jess as they shared an eager, mischievous grin.

“Dare,” I blurted out, immediately regretting my choice as the wind on the cold, pebble beach whipped my hair around my face.

The blue dye inside audibly slushed around as Emma shook the magic 8 ball.


“Should Christie…swim all the way over to Helena Island?” Emma asked slowly before turning the black ball over in her hands to reveal that the bobbing, floating die concealed inside answered: A definite yes. 


My icy cheeks flushed bright red and my chest tightened.


“Oh I-I can’t. I don’t have, eh, a swimsuit with me,” I stammered, searching desperately for an excuse not to do it.


“Ah don’t worry about that,” Jess said as she materialised a blue sports bag from behind her back. “We packed a bag for you! There’s a swimsuit in there that you can change into in that toilet,” she pointed to a public toilet across the street from the entrance to the beach. “And we put a towel in there too. The bag is waterproof so your clothes won’t get wet while you’re swimming over. Now remember, you have to bring back something scary as proof that you were on the island.”


Jess and Emma flashed dark, cruel smiles in my direction as Jess threw the bag at me. I often wondered why I was friends with these girls.


“You’re not scared of Ethel, are you?” Emma smirked.


*


The Isle of Helena is said to be one of the most haunted locations on the planet. Situated on the east coast of Northern Ireland, the small isle is apparently home to the infamous phantom of Ethel Victoria, also referred to as “The White Lady”. The island was populated by around 100 people in the 18th century until a pandemic of the Black Death broke out in Northern Ireland. By order of the Mayor of Belfast, Ian O’Flaherty, the sick from Northern Ireland were shipped over, abandoned and left to die on Helena in an attempt to eradicate the mainland of the disease. One of Helena’s natives, Ethel, had a young daughter, said to be around two years old, who died from pneumonic plague only a week after the first group of ill people were brought to the island. Folk lore states that Ethel was so heartbroken that she drowned herself in the lagoon near her home and continues to haunt and roam the island searching for her daughter. More recently, the island is said to be polluted with radioactive waste, which is the council’s explanation for the island being condemned, but many believe that The White Lady is in fact the real reason for Helena’s mysterious closure.


*


I stood on the edge of the beach in the white swimsuit and yearned for Emma and Jess to tell me not to jump in but they just watched with their arms folded and with spiteful smiles. The bitterly cold sea air was already seeping to my bones. I dipped my toes in the water to test the temperature and icy pangs shot up my legs.


“It’s freezing!”


“The sooner you’re in, the sooner you’re out,” Jess sneered.


Wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, I ran into the sea and as soon as it was deep enough, I dived under.


As the chilly water swallowed me whole, every fibre of my body felt instantly stiff and frozen. The arctic water pricked and nipped my body like pins and needles. My hands were already blue and wrinkled like prunes and a cloud of steam escaped my mouth with every exhale. I threw my arms forward and kicked my legs hard towards the lump of land isolated by deep blue water. The sea thrashed me around effortlessly and flooded my mouth and eyes with stinging salt as I battled against the current. My muscles soon began to fatigue as I struggled against the booming waves. Soon panic began to infest my thoughts as I wondered if I would ever make it to land.


After what seemed like hours, I finally reached Helena.


*


Murky sunlight split through the thick canopy and illuminated the lagoon. The pool was surrounded by a wild jungle of plants and waist high grass. The lagoon felt like a den, almost completely sheathed in plant life that held the creek securely inside like a shrubby giant pair of clasped hands.


I waded through the marshy land to have a closer look at the tranquil lagoon.


In the centre of the emerald water, small bubbles arose, then a mass of white hair immerged from the water. Slowly, a woman slid up from underneath the lagoon and began to wash her long, snowy hair. My pulse thudded hard through my veins as I thought about running back into the sea.


The skinny woman stopped and spun round on her axis to face me. Her features fell and she soared up into the air and out from the water with terrifying speed, casting waves with her, and flew towards me with an outstretched hand and came to a grinding standstill a centimetre away from my face.


“Bella?” She cried.


“No! No, I’m not Bella. My name’s Christie, I’m so sorry,” I blubbered.


I turned to run but Ethel smashed through my body and came out on the other side. I immediately felt like I’d been hit by a car and my insides were drowning in dust and debris. I coughed ferociously and brushed the thick powdery dust off my skin. Ethel was facing me again.


“I’m not Bella! I am not your daughter,” I said through my spluttering coughs.


Ethel had porcelain, china skin that was cracking around the edges of her face like old paint and her eyelids were bruised purple. Her milky hair flowed down to her knees, her cheekbones protruded, her lips were pale pink and she wore a ghostly, long gown. Her eyes were too far apart and her glassy eyeballs were completely white as if they were rolled back inside her head.

“Help me find my daughter! I’ve lost her!” Ethel whined as her blind eyes flickered around.


“You’re- you’re daughter died, Ethel… She died a long time ago,” I said gently, petrified I would make her angry.


Ethel was silent for a moment and then let out a huge, banshee wail that shook the trees around us. I threw my hands to my ears to cover the deafening sound as Ethel continued to cry with impossible volume. Thunder roared and lightning struck several trees around us, torrential rain hurtled down like bullets and gale force wind lashed and circled around the epicentre of the island �" Ethel. The tempest and Ethel bawled in unison as the island itself came alive and I realised that Ethel’s enormous power as she was brewing this storm.


After a few minutes, the weather eased and Ethel calmed.


“I know. I’ve always known she was dead. I just couldn’t accept it. I tried to convince myself it wasn’t true,” Ethel whimpered as she wiped her chalky cheeks.


“You have to move on, Ethel,” I said through steadying breaths. “You can’t bring her back.”


Ethel’s hollow eyes gazed at me. She nodded as she bit her quivering lip.


“I just needed someone to tell me. So I knew for certain that it was true… Now I can pass,” Ethel thought aloud.


She gave me a sweet, childlike smile and gradually from the top of her head down to her toes, Ethel’s presence crumbled into ashes that blew in the mild wind past my body and into the ocean.


*


I clambered out of the sea and flopped onto the stony beach, letting my chest rise and sink as I could finally breath properly again.

“So? Where’s the scary object we told you to get from the haunted island?” I heard Jess chuckle from behind me.


My legs trembled like jelly as I struggled to my feet to see Emma and Jess holding their hands out impatiently. Before I could say anything, a small skull appeared in each of their hands, with mushy flesh and sticky blood dripping from them. They both squealed, threw the skulls to the ground and wiped their soiled hands vigorously on their clothes. The skulls lay on the seashells and then evaporated into the salty sea air.


“What the hell was that?!” They shouted at me with curled up, repulsed expressions.


I couldn’t help but laugh. A little parting gift from Ethel.

 

 

© 2014 Sophie McN


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Reviews

Haha I chuckled at the ending. I like it, it plays out like a Tim Burton movie in my head creepy and interesting.

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Sophie McN

10 Years Ago

thanks!! I like that you thought it was like a Tim Burton movie haha
Meraki

10 Years Ago

You're welcome :)
there's a few typos too, just ignore them. still in progress!

Posted 10 Years Ago



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298 Views
2 Reviews
Added on February 15, 2014
Last Updated on February 15, 2014
Tags: irish, nature, green, folk lore, folk story, ghost story, ghost, haunted, phantom, island, northern ireland, plague, gothic, gothic horror, horror, abondoned island, short story, creative writing

Author

Sophie McN
Sophie McN

Ayrshire, Scotland, United Kingdom



About
I'm an undergraduate English Literature and Creative Writing/Journalism student at the University of Strathclyde in Glasgow. I'll post some of my uni work here and some other short stories/poems too. .. more..

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