THE HAUNTING WITHIN
BY
MICHELLE BURLEY
Copyright © 2014 Michelle Burley.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Twitter - @WriterMichelleB
Contents
Prologue
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2
3
4
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Epilogue
Prologue
Nodding her head at the figure only she knew was there, she opened a kitchen cupboard and took out a bottle. Then opening the drawer she reached for a small box. Without hesitation she approached him where he lay, bleeding profusely and she uncapped the bottle. It was almost like she was outside of her body, watching the whole thing evolve. She saw the yellow coloured liquid pour slowly from the neck of the bottle and splash lazily onto the man on the floor. She made sure she covered every part of him, from his head to his feet. It was a thick, gloopy liquid and it took longer than she thought it would to empty onto him. Lisa was screaming in the background but she could barely hear her. It was like she was under water and could just hear muffled sounds. Ignoring her daughter’s anguished cries she threw the bottle to the floor and gripped the small box tightly in her hands. Agonisingly slowly she watched herself as she pushed the lid open and took out a tiny stick. Mesmerised, Debbie surveyed the scene she had created. For once in her life she had beaten him. She was the one in control and she sure as hell wasn’t going to give up now, even though her stomach lurched slightly at the thought of what would happen next. It had to be done. There was no other way. She completely detached herself from her body now, observing as the match was struck and the tiny flame flared into life with a scratching sound. The scent of burning touched her and she inhaled deeply. She had always liked that smell.
1
It was their first time visiting their grandfather since they were children. Neither of them knew what to expect. Besides from hating the old, gloomy house with its countless dark corners, maze of rooms and old, dilapidated smell that was not unlike a mausoleum, their grandfather was somewhat of a recluse who liked his own space and never thought twice about making it clear that he neither wanted nor enjoyed their company. Not once had they been invited down to see him, nor had he come to visit them. No phone calls during their childhood, no letters, nothing. It was like he didn’t have any family; like they didn’t exist. That was the reason they stayed away and only visited when they really had to. Luckily that was only the once during their lives. Even their mother made a point of never seeing her father. They knew from her anguished cries at night that her fear of him went even deeper than theirs. He was a cruel man who made sure he had power over everyone. He was a bully, an imposing man who ran his house like a prison. And he was their grandfather, their blood. It should have meant something to them but it didn’t. How could it after all these years of never seeing him but always living under his control? He was not a part of their lives but somehow he was always there in the back of their minds. His spite and his heartlessness always remembered even though they tried so very hard to keep the memories at bay. As they drove down the long, narrow, winding road that led to the old sprawling manor house, they were each lost in their own thoughts about this visit. Debbie was driving the car and secretly praising herself on how well she maneuvered it along the worn out road, only having a bit of trouble when the tyres drove over a pot-hole. She was lucky that pot-holes in the road were the only things to worry about. The road was hundreds of years old and because it was hardly ever used, being so far out into the dense countryside, it wasn’t maintained. She guessed there were just hardly ever any people who used the road to complain about its uneven surface and the people who did use the road probably didn’t care anyway. It was a beautiful and picturesque setting. She envied him that. Living in such a scenic part of the countryside where she could never afford to live. It just didn’t seem fair. Another worry that probed the back of her mind like icy fingers trying to worm their way into her brain, constantly pushing and prodding, trying to slither their way in to the front of her consciousness, was that of the old vehicle. She had bought it used (it couldn’t even be called second hand after having six previous owners) because that was all she could afford. Surprisingly, it had been cheaper than the smaller cars in the lot of the garage she bought it from. The question of why it had been cheaper than the other cars had always troubled her, but she needed a vehicle to run around in. After all, she had two children. Two children and no husband. Which was why this pile of metal was all she could afford. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t modern but it did its job and she said her prayers every year when it managed to rattle through its MOT and every winter when the engine started after spluttering out ominous sounds. She didn’t know what she would do without it. Her hands were surprisingly steady on the wheel but every now and again she had to consciously loosen her grip and wipe her sweat slicked skin on the front of her black calf-length skirt.
She knew that Lisa and Aiden were dreading meeting up with her father again possibly more than she was. Glancing to her left, she saw the same resentment in her nineteen year old daughters’ eyes that she herself had seen in her own eyes as she stood across from the mirror in the hall when she had taken the phone call that now led them here. Why her? Why now? She wished more than ever that there was some other relative to make this drive. It made her feel like a terrible daughter. One who shirked her responsibilities, but she just could not bear to be near him so she stayed away as much as was possible. Without even looking she knew the very same look was playing in her seventeen year old sons eyes who was unusually quiet in the back seat. Normally he would have begged her to let him take the wheel, keen on learn
ing how to drive. Oh, Aiden had always been a hands-on boy. He had dreams of becoming something, someone. And knowing him like she knew him, he would achieve those dreams. Head strong and confident, once he set his mind to something he went all-out for it. Today he had just slid in the back and sat with slumped shoulders; a sure sign of defeat. She knew better than to ask them both what was wrong as it was obvious. It was what was playing on all their minds. As much as they tried not to think of it, they couldn’t help remembering all the reasons why they feared the house they were headed to so much.
2
“Hurry up you two! We mustn’t be late; your grandfather is expecting us at two o’clock sharp” shouted Debbie as she hastily grabbed her children’s coats and hats from the closet.
“What’s the matter mummy? We’re only going to granddads house” stated Lisa as she trotted down the stairs, right hand running smoothly along the banister as she advanced towards her waiting mother. She was expecting their first meeting with her granddad to be much like the tales that her school friends shared with one another. Stories of lots of chocolate and being spoiled rotten. Oh how she had envied them all until now. Now she was going to meet her granddad for the first time.
“Yeah mummy, if we’re late we will just say sorry to him. He won’t mind” Aiden chimed in with his wide-eyed innocence. Ever since Debbie could remember she had done everything in her power to keep her father happy, but most of the time all of her efforts were thrown back in her face and he would always find something to punish her for. Her father was a formidable man. He had always enjoyed seeing her scared and upset and that was how most of her childhood had been spent. There were times when it was just Debbie and her beloved mother and those were the times she adored and felt loved. Her memories of those times were the only things that kept her going when she was being punished. Her mother did her best to protect her from the wicked hands of her father, but she was no match for him and besides, it just made him even more angry when her mother stood up to him which, in turn, made it worse for Debbie. The arguments were brutal and always ended badly for her poor mother. Debbie often wished she could hurt him as much as he hurt them but she would never even dare try. She was a coward in her mind, a coward who couldn’t even stand up for her own mother when she did everything possible to keep him away from her little girl. She hated herself for being so weak; even now she was a grown woman. When it came to him she would always be weak and pathetic.
That was why it unsettled Debbie having to be anywhere near her father and it scared her even more today because she had to take her children with her. “Just hurry up please; your grandfather won’t stand for us being late.” What else could she say? She couldn’t tell them the truth, that if they were late he was very likely to punish all of them in some sick and twisted way.
The children were not used to seeing their mum so tense and couldn’t understand why she was getting upset with them. Normally the atmosphere in their small but cosy home was relaxed and happy, but today was so different. Although the children were too young to understand what was wrong with their mummy, they realised it was something to do with their grandfather. They had never met him and Debbie rarely mentioned him to them so they were both excited about the visit, thinking to themselves what treats and presents they would get from their granddad. All their friends at school talked about staying with their grandparents for the weekend and about the fun that they would have with them. This made their young minds chaotic with excitement.
3
Debbie stood watching her two small children as they sat on the floor of the hall-way in their modest terrace house pulling on their shoes, Aiden taking longer than Lisa who had mastered the art of tying shoe laces long ago, and she felt a stab of guilt like a knife through her heart. They were so young and innocent.
Please don’t let him treat my babies the way he did me she prayed silently to a God she wasn’t even sure if she believed in as she looked at her precious children in front of her. She wished with all her heart that she didn’t have to take them with her, but there was no-one to have them while she went on her own. She had no idea where their father was. He left when she was pregnant with Aiden and as far as she knew he was living somewhere in Holland with his new wife of just eighteen. She remembered all too well the morning she arrived home after taking Lisa to nursery to find all of John’s clothes gone and a note on the table weighted down by his wedding ring that simply read ‘Sorry’. She had never heard from him since. It was his friend who had told her where he was and who he was with. The weight of her heavily pregnant bump was nothing compared to the weight of his betrayal. How he could just turn his back on her and his family, she had no idea. Then, in her eyes it always had been easier for men to walk away than women. He didn’t even know he had a son. She gave birth with her friend by her side and, so it seemed, all the burdens of the world on her narrow shoulders. But the first time she gazed into Aiden’s tiny face, her resolve strengthened and she vowed never to let any other man in to her life, and more importantly, the lives of her children.
As she recalled that heart-breaking day she felt the familiar ache in her chest and the sting in her eyes as the flood of fresh tears threatened to flow. She quickly took control again before Lisa and Aiden saw her crying.
She held their coats to her nose, taking in their scent that lingered in traces, deep rooted in the fibres of their coats from the all the times they had worn them. She felt so sad. No, she felt absolutely wretched. It was as though it would be the last time they would ever smell like this again before they went to the house and became tainted with the rancidness of fear and hate. She remembered fondly how, when they were babies she would sneak into their rooms at night and gently lift them from their cots, careful not to disturb the sleeping bundles and then she would stand there with them cradled in her arms smelling their wonderful smells and breathing them in, so deep it seemed as though her lungs would burst, just as her heart threatened to with all the love she felt for them. Debbie knew that for her and for every other mother on earth that was worth her weight in gold that there was no greater smell than that of her own child. From the very first moment she had held both of her children she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would be able to pick them out of a room full of babies while she wore a blind-fold. The smell of a child to the mother is so strong and distinguished that the mother remembers the smell for the rest of her life, at least that’s how Debbie thought of it.
She smiled at the thought of her cherished memories of Lisa and Aiden as babies while she set about helping them into their coats. Watching them step out of the front door into the fresh air with their hair blowing slightly in the breeze was a picture that Debbie would never forget. He could take a lot from her but never her memories.
Once again though, anguish took precedence over anything else as she followed them to the car.
4
As they piled into the car Debbie smiled and tried to keep everything as normal as possible. She hoped that her smile didn’t look as fake as it felt. If the children picked up on it they didn’t let on. Sometimes she had to remind herself that they were still kids because they were wise beyond their years. Lisa was nine going on nineteen according to the way she spoke. She was a proper girl’s girl; everything to do with boys was disgusting and that included her younger brother too, although she adored him still. And as for seven year old Aiden, he was top of his class in everything and Debbie couldn’t have been more proud of either of them. They were both adored by the teachers and children alike in school and the teachers often praised Debbie on how well she has done to bring up two wonderful, polite children. They were both very popular and had many friends. People seemed drawn to them and their easy-going natures.
Aiden’s first day at school was so different to Lisa’s, but then again, so was his personality. Lisa was very shy and quiet. Unlike her little brother, she hated being muddy and dirty. Everyone said she was a proper little lady, and she was. She enjoyed playing with
her dollies and having pretend tea parties with them. Debbie would often sit and play tea parties with Lisa and then sit for hours and comb her long blonde hair. When Lisa was a baby she had a comfort blanket, not really a blanket but a rag of blue velvet. She hardly ever went anywhere without her “baba” as she called it. She would sleep with it pressed against her tiny smooth, plump cheek and every once in a while she would rub it along her nose. There was many a night when Debbie had just sat at Lisa bedside and watched her daughter sleeping. Debbie knew there was nothing else on this earth more heart-warming and enjoyable than watching your child sleep. Seeing their faces so peaceful and hearing their faint breathing. It was a memory she would treasure forever.
The recollections of their first day at school came back vividly. She saw in her mind Lisa standing at the front door that morning in her smart new uniform of thick black tights and charcoal grey pinafore with a navy blue cardigan and black shoes. She had looked so pretty with her hair tied in pigtails done with navy ribbons to match her uniform. She had a tissue rolled up and tucked up the sleeve of her cardigan, just in case she needed it. She looked so tiny, too little for school. Debbie wished she didn’t have to take her but of course she had no choice. Lisa smiled up at her mummy with the excitement only a child can possess as they made their way to school. At the door to the classroom she was fine, if a little reluctant. She gripped Debbie’s hand tightly, all the time her eyes roaming around the classroom and the sea of new faces staring at her. Her teacher was a lovely elderly lady who took an instant shine to Lisa. Debbie could sense the nervousness in her little girl but she didn’t see the anguish that was to come when it was time for her to go leave her there. Lisa sobbed and begged her to take her home, to not leave her there, to stay with her, anything as long as it meant she could be with her. Debbie felt so guilty as she said goodbye to her baby who stood looking forlorn holding the teachers hand. She had cried on the way home, not caring that strangers were looking at her. She had cried when she got home, floods of tears wracking her body as her chest heaved from the intensity. She gave in and phoned the school an hour after getting home to see how Lisa was and she was told she was fine and there was nothing to worry about. But still she didn’t stop worrying. She worried and waited, clock watching, until it was time to go and pick up her little girl. The thought of doing it again the next day was almost too much to bear. It took a while but finally Lisa settled into school and the mornings became easier as she became happier and more confident in herself and her new surroundings and the fact that Debbie would always be there to pick her up.
The Haunting Within Page 1
