They were here. They were really here. They hadn’t run away scared, the two boys. They’d gone to get help. Oh, how she’d thank them when she woke from this awful, terrible nightmare. The doors of her dad’s car opened and they stepped out, her parents last.
She could tell they were nervous. Floating from where she hovered above the street, she reached ground level, inches from her mum.
“Hello, Mum,” she choked. “Long time, no see.”
It was evident she couldn’t be heard and her heart broke a little more. “Mum? Dad?” Nothing. The group milled at the bottom of the path, each gazing in different directions, alluding to their failure to observe her. But the hippie woman looked right at her.
“She’s here,” she declared. “I can definitely feel her presence.”
Relief and excitement intertwined like strands of molecules interacting in a chemical reaction, ready to burst forth in a spectacular kinetic display. She reigned herself. Scaring them away when it seemed she’d finally been discovered wasn’t an option.
Apparently following the hippie woman’s instructions, the five of them encircled the lamp post, which meant encircling her too. This looked good. Very promising. Eyes wide as saucers, she let out a laugh of joy. Would she soon be in her body and awake again?
Holding hands in a circle increased the potency of Sylvie’s psychic abilities. She confirmed Elin’s presence was strong and getting even stronger.
“Elin? Elin Treharne? I’m here with your mum and dad, and witnesses who say they’ve seen you here in the street light.”
“I know. I can see you all,” Elin’s voice went unheard.
“Elin? Are you here now?”
“Yes!”
“I’m sensing strongly that she’s here,”
“You’ve already said that twice,” Glenda frowned “Find out how we can save her. How we can wake her up.”
Typical of her mum, Elin thought. Straight to the point. Not suffering fools. She’d definitely find out how to help her.
“Elin. You’ve become detached from your body. We’re here to help you get reconnected.” It was difficult not to share her mum’s annoyance at this strange woman’s insistence at walking her through the task like a baby. But she felt so happy she was being addressed directly for the first time in forever that she couldn’t help but just listen.
“We give you permission to leave the light. You can leave and go back to your body, NOW.”
The group sensed nothing.
“It seemed different with Father Jenkins here,” Neil said bluntly. “We all felt something happen then. Are you sure we shouldn’t try and persuade him to help?”
“We don’t need him!” Sylvie hissed at the suggestion.
“Are you sure she’s even here?” Glenda sneered. The question sent shockwaves through her daughter, petrified they would give up before they’d even started.
“I’m here, Mum! I’m here. Please don’t go. You have to help me.” Glenda gave no sign of hearing her daughter. Elin put out a tentative hand to touch her. As it passed straight through, a spring of despair babbled from deep within, a despair which threatened to break her.
Then, with a sudden jolt of energy she could feel her lovely mum: all her love and all her suffering. Glenda’s head shot round.
“Elin?” she said, looking right at her. “Is that really you? I felt her! She touched me. On my shoulder. Oh, is it you? Please say it is. Please.”
“It is me, Mum. It really is. I love you so much. I’m so happy you’re here.” Glenda heard nothing. Turning to Sylvie she snapped.
“Ask her to tell you something only she and I know. I want to believe it’s her. I want to believe it’s my little girl.”
“Who else would it be?” Emyr frowned, puzzled. Glenda scowled back.
“I want to know it’s her. Okay?”
“Didn’t you say you felt her?” Emyr persisted, reluctant to broach this potential stumbling block.
Before further discussion took place, lines of concentration grew on Sylvie’s face.
“I’m getting something.” She screwed her eyes tight. “She bought you a book for Christmas. One day, she’s telling me, she moved the bookmark back several pages and giggled at the confusion it caused you.”
The simple memory no-one else could know or guess, dropped Glenda to her knees. She nearly broke the circle, but she needed the support of Emyr and Matthew’s strong arms to stop from falling completely to the floor.
Glenda’s huge sob echoed from the row of terraced houses lining both sides of the street. Elin’s own cry of anguish went unnoticed.
“We must save her. We have to save my precious little girl.”
“Okay. We ordered her into the light. That’s why she’s stuck out here,” piped up Neil. “We should order her back to her body, not just give her permission.”
Sylvie looked at Glenda for guidance, her fierceness giving her the natural alpha role.
“Just do it,” she barked. “We’ve wasted enough time with my daughter being stuck in a coma.” Her stern voice apportioned blame to the foolish exorcists in the circle. The hope it would soon be over freed some of her pent up ill-feeling.
It was unwise and unfair to make Sylvie more nervous than she already appeared, so she modified her tone and tried to be encouraging. “We really need you,” she managed with a weak smile.
It was all the reassurance Sylvie needed.
“Join me when I speak,” she directed, receiving nervous nods of confirmation.
“Elin. Listen to our instruction. Go from the light. Go from the light now and return to your body.” The chant grew louder the second, third and fourth times as the group joined in and found their stride.
“Elin. Go from the light. Go from the light now and return to your body.”
“ELIN. GO FROM THE LIGHT. GO FROM THE LIGHT NOW AND RETURN TO YOUR BODY.”
The window of the house next door flew open and an angry outburst filled the air, “Shut up! What the fuck are you doing you bunch of freaks. I’m trying to sleep.” But they weren’t about to stop for neighbourly etiquette. The woman shouting gave up. With a murmur of “for f’ sake…” she slammed the window closed.
“Elin, go from the light and return to your body. We order you out of the light.” Over and over again. Over and over the group chanted, until suddenly, “Stop!” Sylvie opened her eyes, breathless. “She’s gone!”
Chapter Forty-one
“Phone Alis. Ask her if there’s any change. See if Elin’s waking up,” Glenda instructed her husband, a new colour to her cheeks. Rushing to get in the car, she badgered the others to hurry and get in, too.
“Her phone will be switched off. It’s not allowed in that part of the hospital.” Glenda’s eyes widened in comprehension. She’d been so cocooned, sitting beside Elin, that against her usual nature she struggled with the practicalities
Neil and Matthew were pleased if not a little confused why they were included. Elin waking up was really a family affair. Harbouring a desire to meet the angelic beauty they’d only seen sleeping, they kept quiet and hoped they weren’t just being given a lift to collect Neil’s car. When they pulled into the hospital car-park with no mention of goodbyes, they happily presumed tagging along was expected.
Sylvie knew she was wanted; to revel in her success, or offer explanation and consolation if Elin still didn’t wake up.
Their footsteps echoed eerily as they walked the empty hospital corridor, giving a surrealism to an already peculiar scene. Imagining the commotion that might greet them on arrival at HDU: nurses bustling, paging on-call doctors to witness the miracle; Alis trying desperately to find signal to call them to Elin’s side as she woke up, they couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the stillness.
It took a while to be buzzed in by a nurse so late in the night shift. Dawn would break soon and exhaustion was hitting hard. Rushing as sensibly as they could endure, they were confronted with the disheartening view of Alis sitting quietly beside h
er sister who appeared exactly as she had before.
“It didn’t work,” Glenda pronounced in a monotone. The seething resentment towards the three intruders upon her family’s distress resumed forthwith. It seemed like the best and most sensitive idea to leave her to it, but Sylvie didn’t want to.
“We must go back, maybe after a rest, and try again. Sometimes, with spirit, there are unresolved issues that have to be dealt with before they can leave. Whatever drew Elin to dream repeatedly about that house will be the key.”
“But you said she had gone. You made us stop,” Glenda protested. Sylvie managed to look both apologetic and self-righteous.
“I must have been mistaken. It is an unusual situation, after all.” Her pious tone wilted in the heat of Glenda’s hateful stare. “We’ll get some rest tonight and reconvene tomorrow. Okay?”
Glenda seethed at the focus of her rage.
“Thank you for all you’ve done,” stepped in Emyr. “Tomorrow’s a new day. We might feel differently then. But we just want to be left alone, now.”
Sylvie and the boys mouthed silent goodbyes whilst backing carefully from the room. They walked back to the canteen, and the vending machine for nourishment before discussing where they should stay tonight.
“Why does she have to be so shitty?” Matthew said indignantly. A rueful smile played on Neil’s lips.
“Well, we did an exorcism on her daughter and put her in a coma. And the one hope we came up with didn’t work. It’s understandable.”
Matthew shrugged. “Well, she did haunt us, didn’t she. We had no choice.”
“Yeah, maybe. But what are we going to do, now? I’m frustrated, but them,” Neil nodded in the vague direction of HDU. “They must be going through hell.”
“You just fancy her,” Matthew scoffed.
“Like you don’t,” Neil defended. Sylvie coughed.
“Ahem. Do you two think it’s right to be leering over a girl in a coma?” The boys reddened. “As for what we’re going to do… It’ll come to me after a good night’s sleep. It always does.”
“Whenever you put a girl in a coma, how to bring her round always comes to you after sleep,” Neil facetiously deflected his embarrassment.
“Don’t be flippant, Neil. It comes across as quite unkind.”
“Sorry.” He fiddled with his shirt hem. “We’re gonna have to stay at the house tonight.” He flinched at his own suggestion. Being with family and knowing what was happening helped him stay resolute. Matthew winced.
“I’m not sleeping in my old room.”
“We can’t all fit in mine,” Neil objected. But that was what they did. Neil and Matthew top and tailing and Sylvie on an air bed.
Daylight was taking hold when they arrived. The streetlamp felt different. Switched off, it had lost its menace. They rushed past anyway, feeling irrational at their anxiety. Before the impractical arrangements received too much criticism, they all fell into deep exhausted sleep.
The scream pervaded the house, followed by a crash of breaking crockery as the tray which moments before contained several cold cups of coffee and toast crusts, clattered deafeningly to the floor.
“Oh my God!” exclaimed Bronwyn. “Oh my God. Oh my God! Aeron, come here. Now!”
A sleepy Aeron ambled into the lounge, yawning and tying Bronwyn’s pink dressing gown around his bulk, almost tripping over the mess.
“Ach a fi! What happened? You alright?” he asked, taking in the extent of the disgusting disarray. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you clear it up.”
“It’s not that, babes. Look.” She pointed at the wall. When Aeron looked up, he was stunned he could have missed it. Scrawled in large red letters were two words which sent his mind into a whirl.
I’m here
“Shit! What does it mean?”
Bronwyn gave him a scathing look. “It means that little pleb, Neil, was right. Our ghost hasn’t gone anywhere.”
Neil heard the cacophony but it took his brain a while to rouse from sleep enough to recognise it wasn’t a dream. He disentangled himself from Matthew’s tree-trunk legs, which had threatened to make him sterile on several perilous occasions throughout the night, and eased his stiff body from the bed.
How the other two managed to continue sleeping through the noise he was making he couldn’t believe. As he left the room, he decided he didn’t. He suspected they were pretending to be asleep until he established if they had to get up.
He trudged heavily down each step, pausing to rub sleep from his eyes. The atmosphere was tense. He soon saw the mess in the doorway, and beyond, Aeron and Bronwyn.
“What happened, Bronnie? You, alright?” she stepped over the mess, arms folded, nodding her head slowly.
“You were right, Neil bach.”
“What do you mean?”
“Go and look. Go on,” she gesticulated toward the lounge. Neil saw the scrawled red writing immediately. The grin which grew on his face was evidently not what Bronwyn expected.
“Are you demented, Neil, mun? You look really pleased.”
“I am,” he said. He ran upstairs, stumbling on the middle steps in his rush.
“She’s here!” he yelled, barging through his bedroom door. The wide eyes of last night’s roommates confirmed they had been awake as he’d suspected.
“How do you know?” Matthew asked.
“Come and see for yourself.” He turned for them to follow.
They stood in the lounge, staring at Elin’s message.
“We’ll have to go back to the hospital and get her parents. We need to find out why she’s stuck in this house.”
“I’ll do us some bacon butties, shall I?” Bronwyn suggested.
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day. But I thought you only ate healthy stuff, Bron,” Neil asked in surprise.
“Needs must, Neil. Needs must.”
Chapter Forty-two
They used the three bathrooms the house boasted and showered whilst the bacon cooked. After half an hour, they were clean, presentable, fed and watered (coffee’d), and back in Neil’s car.
The car park was full to burst. Sunday was a popular day to visit. A fact confirmed when they passed the hospital shop in the foyer, crammed with queues of people buying flowers, cards and grapes.
They had trouble convincing the nurse on duty they were relatives. A change of shift bringing a new proficiency in visitor discrimination. She eventually said she would have to ask the family. Neil, Matthew and Sylvie weren’t convinced that would gain them entry, unsure if they were still welcome.
The nurse returned briskly. Unsmiling, she buzzed them in. They said thank you to her disappearing back as she walked off to her duties. As they approached Elin’s room, they came face to face with a rigid Emyr, standing tall, arms folded, sent out to intercept the intruders and ascertain if they had anything useful to say.
His demeanour melted at their revelation. “She actually wrote on the wall?” he repeated misty eyed. He went back into the room to consult his wife and daughter. Glenda pushed her chair back and walked with Emyr to the door.
“Here we go again,” she said.
Sat tightly around the table, they dispensed with the need for candles, it being bright morning light, and because they knew who to expect. As the resident psychic, Sylvie led what she still called a séance.
“Elin. We have seen your message. We’re so pleased you’re here. Can you give us a sign? If it’s you Elin, move the curtains for us?”
Instantly, the curtains flapped back and fore to a gasp. Glenda stifled a sob of joy and relief and an array of emotions she had no hope of getting a handle on. Emyr determined as always to be strong for his girls, did a good job of keeping it together, and him coping helped Glenda cope too.
“Thank you, Elin. We need to ask you why you are still here and not back in your body. I’m going to use the Ouija board again. Is that okay?” The curtains flapped again. Sylvie took it to be Elin’s agreement. With the Ouija board on the
table, she began asking questions. It soon became apparent that Elin had less idea than they why she was stuck here.
“What do you feel when you’re here?” Neil asked timidly, the first time he’d ever attempted to speak to the beautiful creature who had terrified him for months. After a few moments while Elin considered her response, the glass moved. ‘S, a, f, e.’
“Why? Why does she feel especially safe here?” Sylvie frowned at the group
“It’s her glandular fever. We talked about it yesterday—well, I suggested it,” Neil recalled. “She was fit and healthy here. When she left she got really ill. It makes sense she feels safe here.”
The murmurs round the table showed concordance. The Ouija glass remained still. Elin wasn’t objecting. Sylvie led them in an impromptu prayer.
“Elin. We thank this house for providing you with a feeling of safety; a refuge from your terrible illness. But you don’t need it anymore. Your illness is gone and you are needed in your body.
“You are safe to leave this house. You don’t need it anymore. Go back to your body, now, Elin. Go back to your body. You are safe. You no longer need this house.” She went on and encouraged the others to join in.
A compelling chorus swelled in the lounge of number twenty-four Rhondda Street, Swansea. It had to work. It was real, and they were helping. Everything would be all right. She would listen. She had to.
After repeating themselves until any more seemed ridiculous, they stopped. Bronwyn and Aeron first, then Neil and Matthew and Emyr and even Glenda. Only Sylvie carried on a few more times because nothing had changed. She didn’t feel as though Elin had gone back to her body.
When even she fell silent and opened her eyes, the curtains flapped furiously, confirming their failure.
“Why hasn’t it worked? My daughter’s here. She responds to us, yet her body is two miles away and close to death. “Elin! Get back to your body. Now!” she ordered, her voice cracking.
The glass on the Ouija board vibrated and moved swiftly from letter to letter.
Blurred Lines: A box-set of reality bending supernatural fiction (Paranormal Tales from Wales Book 9) Page 57
