Midnights Echo: Reversed

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
A ghost that's haunted by the living, a sister that's haunted by the dead. This is Lily's story.

Submitted: May 02, 2014

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Submitted: May 02, 2014

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It was cold, so very cold, the chill of the night air seeped into my bones travelling until it consumed my whole body. My eyes flew open. A lone tree stood over me, watching me, seemingly frozen in time, it's bare branches barely swayed in the breeze while the pale moon peaked through, casting a dim light over my face. I placed my hand on the crisp grass and sat up with startled realisation- I didn't know where was- I felt like a thick fog had settled over my brain, for reasons unknown I couldn't remember what had happened, I felt like there was a chunk of my memory gone, with no way to get it back. I took in my surroundings more frantically, my eyes widening, I was in a graveyard. Marble headstones gleamed eerily in the moonlight, I scanned the graveyard looking for a way out, but there were no paths, no gravel road leading me through the maze, I tried to damp down my rising panic, but the shadows of the night appeared to be closing in on me, the darkness suffocating me, I closed my eyes and leaned back, trying to calm my mind. A cold, hard surface met my back, it's iciness bled through the thin cotton of my knee length dress. My eyes snapped open, carefully I turned to glimpse at the structure behind me, I stared numbly at the name carved in the glossy stone. No, it couldn't be. I sucked in a breath, tears streaming down my cheeks, the name becoming nothing more than a blur, but I could still see it, the image was forever burned in my memory.

Lily Anderson

31.10.81 - 08.08.98

Much loved and will always be remembered

I was sitting on a grave...my grave. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, trying to block out the thought, but it was no use, the name was still there.

'no..' I whispered 'no no no'

Tears streamed more forcefully down my cheeks, in a unbroken flow of sorrow and helplessness. My stomach twisted and turned in a series of knots while I tried and failed to come to terms with the words in front of me. There must be a mistake... A sob wracked through me as I clutched my knees to my chest. For once in my life I had no idea what to do or what to believe. The helplessness only served to make me feel even worse. I shakily heaved myself off the icy grass standing so that my icy blue dress blew in the breeze along with my raven black hair that billowed behind me, a trait that both me and my sister had inherited from our mother.

Oh god, my sister, my eyes widened as I frantically looked at my surroundings, at the names on the headstones beside me. She wasn't there. Relief washed through me though the worry soon resurfaced. I dragged my hands down my face trying to calm myself. I looked down and saw the tattered remains that was my dress, horrified to see it caked in a mixture of blood and dirt, the red stood out against the pale blue and suddenly, I remembered, well at least part of it. I had died. I remembered my sisters face as she leaned over my dying body, the pure grief in her eyes that I had needed to take away, but most of all I remembered the pain, the unendurable pain that streaked through every fibre in my body, the sting of the cuts and scrapes, bleeding together so that I couldn't identify exactly what was causing me so much pain, once that memory surfaced the pieces of that night all started to fit together. I remembered the house, it's intimidating, tall black towers, the sharp angles of the house jutting out with razor like precision. I remembered the moment of uneasiness that washed over me, my mind telling me to turn back, to run and I should have listened because now my sister was paying the price, I was the only person she had had left, the only person in this world that she had trusted and I had left her.

My emotions rolled through me like a brewing storm, I remembered the man his face was pale, his waxy complexion reminded me of the moon, his emotionless eyes were gaping black holes, his clothes were dark and tattered. He had taunted me, his sadistic words still echoed through my head. 'aren't you going to turn around?' he had breathed in my ear, which was soon followed by his malevolent laugh. It only made me run faster.

I had sobbed uncontrollably as doors slammed behind me, I had heard footsteps pounding down the vast and empty corridor, I had had no one to save me, nowhere to go and no one to help, I was alone. I remembered running, running so fast my lungs had burned with the effort, all the while my heart crashing frantically in my chest, my breathing heaving out in sobs that shook my whole body and then I remembered the sinister smile he had flashed me before... before he killed me. After that it was black, like curtains being drawn, I just remembered the shock and realisation that I wasn't going to make it, that I could do nothing, and my sister, oh god I had thought my sister, she was coming here, to take me back home. please don't let him get her was the last thought I had had before he reached me. The last thing I remembered was looking up into my sisters face, her tear streaked cheeks, the pure grief that had consumed her eyes and now, I was here surrounded by graves that imprisoned the dead and I screamed with the tears still flowing relentlessly down my cheeks, I screamed for the loss, for the pain, for every single thing that life had put me through, every person I had lost, and everything that I was powerless to. I whipped around still screaming as the emotions coursed through me, I didn't know what to feel, anger, frustration, pain and loss all flowed into one as I screamed. It was only then that I noticed the figure standing alongside my grave, her eyes captured mine and I knew she saw me, disbelief broke the flow of emotions, it was my sister. Her eyes widened when she saw me, her whole figure froze, her gaze was filled with shock and dread, recognition flared in her eyes but they still held a whisper of horror, it was as if she was familiar with the sight of ghosts. I stared back at her, the pain of the loss of the life I once lived consumed me. I almost laughed at the irony of it all, I had sometimes thought about ghosts, the ones that supposedly haunted the living but now it was the other way around...I was dead, a ghost, haunted by the living.


© Copyright 2019 Meg Smith. All rights reserved.

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