by Amy Cross
Nothing.
“Dear Lord,” she continued, her voice trembling with fear, “I know I haven't exactly been good, and I've made a lot of mistakes, but if you get me through tonight I swear I'll change. I'll be good, I'll dedicate my life to helping other people and to making sure that the world is a better place. I'll undo every bad thing I ever did and I'll fix everything, but please, just let me be okay tonight. Don't let her come for me...”
With tears rolling down her cheeks, she began to sob,
“Please,” she whispered, “please please p -”
Suddenly she saw it: There was a dark shape in the far corner, a shadow that hadn't been there a moment ago. Holding her breath, she watched as the shadow seemed to alter its shape slightly, becoming more and more like the form of a young girl until there could no longer be any doubt.
“No,” Emma said under her breath, “please, no...”
The shadow remained in place for a moment as the cell began to get colder and colder.
“No!” Emma shouted. “No! You're not here! You can't be here!”
Slowly the shadow seemed to move, coming closer, until finally its features could just about be made out in the gloom: the little girl stared straight at Emma with the same dark, dead eyes as before.
“I know who you are,” Emma said after a moment. “You're Leonora Blake, aren't you? You're the girl who... You're the one who was here all those years ago. It's okay, I don't want to hurt you, I've never done anything to you, so you can't do anything to me, can you? You're not evil, you're a little girl, you're -”
She took a sudden, deep breath as the girl edged closer, still staring straight into her eyes. She was in the middle of the room now, and she seemed so calm and determined, as if she knew exactly what was going to come next.
“Please,” Emma whimpered, shivering as the temperature of the cell continued to plummet, “you don't want me. Go to one of the others. There's hundreds of us in here, there's people who've done much worse things than me, so why do you want me?”
The girl took another step forward, and then another, and finally she was standing directly over Emma, staring straight down at her.
Struggling to her feet, Emma felt her heart pounding in her chest.
“You can't hurt me,” she said after a moment. “Look at you, you're just a little girl, yeah? You can't do anything to me!”
Slipping past the figure, Emma ran to the door and began banging for attention.
“Help me!” she shouted at the top of her voice. “You can't leave me in here! Get me out of here!”
Realizing that there was something ice cold behind her, she turned to find that the little girl had followed her to the door and was now staring up at her.
“Help me!” Emma screamed again, slamming her fists against the door. “Somebody help me!”
***
Outside in the yard, no screams could be heard. Moonlight bathed the abandoned vegetable patch in an eerie blue haze, with several small white objects having begun to poke through the soil. Despite having been buried six feet deep just a few hours earlier, the bones were once again pushing their way up to the surface, including a fractured skull that stared up at the prison wall with deep, hollow eyes.
Part Five
Today
“Everyone to the dining hall immediately!” the guard called out. “No stopping in the corridor, no talking!”
“What's wrong?” Amanda asked as she followed Robin to the door of their cell. “It sounds like something's happened.”
“It's probably nothing,” Robin replied, stopping and looking along the corridor. There were several guards outside the door to Emma's cell, and the door itself was wide open. “It's probably...” she muttered, as if she was suddenly too shocked to speak. “I...”
“Is it Emma?” Amanda asked.
Without replying, Robin hurried along the corridor, quickly breaking into a run.
“Hey!” the guard called after her. “Get back here!”
“Has something happened?” Amanda asked, turning to him.
“Go to the dining hall,” he replied firmly. “Now!”
“But -” Glancing along the corridor, she saw that Robin was standing outside Emma's cell, staring through the door with a look on utter disbelief on her face. Seconds later, two guards hurried out and forcibly turned her around, but it was clearly too late. Whatever she'd seen, it had drained all the color from her face and brought tears to her eyes.
***
“I heard her screaming,” Karen said quietly as she picked at her breakfast. “She was banging on the door, telling them they had to let her out, and then... Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Amanda asked.
“Not after about two in the morning. Didn't you hear it?”
She shook her head.
“Emma's a good kid,” Karen continued. “She can get a bit sarcastic sometimes and she gave the guards trouble, but that's no reason for them to ignore her. I mean, I know we sometimes act up, but there's no way they could've thought she was trying to pull one over on them. Someone should've at least gone to check she was okay and -”
Before she could finish, she spotted Robin entering the room.
“What?” she asked. “Is she okay?”
“She...” Ignoring the serving hatch, Robin took a seat next to Amanda, but it was clear from the look on her face that she was in shock. Staring ahead for a moment, she seemed to be still processing the news. “She's... gone.”
Taking a deep breath, Karen looked down at her food.
“What do you mean by gone?” Amanda asked. “Is she... dead? She can't be dead!”
Robin nodded.
“But how?”
“I heard them talking about a heart attack,” Robin continued, “but... I don't know, it's like...”
The others waited for her to continue.
“It's like what?” Amanda asked eventually.
“The look on her face... In her eyes...” She paused again, as if she was reliving the moment over and over in her mind. “I've never seen someone look so terrified. Her eyes were wide open and it was like she was screaming when she died, and she just froze that way. I can't even describe it, it was just...” She held up her hands. “She seemed like she was clawing at something too, like she went stiff the moment she died and ended up all... twisted.”
“I heard her screaming,” Karen said again. “If I heard her, you know they could hear in the observation room. Why haven't our cells got panic buttons, anyway? These people don't give a crap, do they?”
“I told them to check on her,” Robin continued, with tears in her eyes. “I told them something was wrong, I begged them, I told Ferguson he had to keep a special eye on her. She said she'd seen -”
Again, the others waited.
“She'd seen what?” Karen asked.
“You know,” Robin replied, her voice trembling with sorrow. “Her.”
“Is that what was wrong with her in the yard yesterday?”
“She told me about it,” Robin continued. “I tried to talk her out of the whole thing, I tried to make her realize it was all in her head, but she was convinced she'd seen Leonora Blake. I told her... I told her the truth, which is that I'd never actually seen her.” She turned first to Amanda, then to Karen, and finally to the others who were at the table. “I made it all up. Those times I said I'd seen the little girl out the corner of my eye, it wasn't true. I just said it 'cause it was a fun story and I wanted to join in, I never truly thought...”
Again, her voice trailed off.
“Me too,” Karen said finally.
The others looked at her.
“I mean, I thought I saw something once,” she continued hesitantly, “maybe, just something moving nearby, but I definitely added something to the story.” She turned to one of the other women. “What about you? You said you saw her too.”
“Sort of,” the woman replied defensively.
“But?”
“Well... Like you sa
id, sometimes you exaggerate thing a bit.”
“We've all told these stories,” Robin interjected. “We've enjoyed it, it's been fun in a twisted kinda way, to think that there's a ghost here and all that shit, it's been something for us to think about instead of the fact that we're banged up in this fucking place, but... What if it's true? Did any of us ever really consider the possibility that it might be the gospel truth? Hell, I can't even remember what parts of the story are original and what parts we started making up.”
“I heard about Leonora the first day I came here,” said another woman. “I just heard she was this little girl ghost and no-one was supposed to look her in the eye.”
“Okay,” Robin said, getting to her feet. “Everyone, listen up!”
She waited, but most people were still excitedly talking about what had happened to Emma.
“Everyone!” Robin shouted, suddenly climbing up onto the table, almost knocking several plates of food off the side in the process. “For fuck's sake, listen to me!”
“Get down!” a guard called out, making his way over.
“I want everyone in the room to listen real fucking carefully!” Robin continued. “This is really important, so pay attention. I need to know if anyone in here has actually seen Leonora Blake. I know we all tell stories about it, we bullshit all day, but things just got serious and we need to cut through all the crap. Has anyone actually seen that kid, either right in front of them or out the corner of their eye?”
“Inmate, get down,” the guard said firmly. “I won't tell you again.”
“Anyone?” Robin called out.
A sea of faces stared back at her, but no-one said a word.
“No-one?” Robin continued, as a tear ran down her cheek. “Jesus Christ, all this time have we all been -”
Before she could finish, the guard grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back, immediately pushing her to the floor and using his knee to press her down.
“Leave her alone!” Karen shouted.
“Back off!” a second guard told her as he hurried over.
“Don't hurt her!” Karen continued as the two guards hauled Robin to her feet. “She's got a bad back!”
“She'll have a worse one if she doesn't behave!”
“No-one's seen her,” Robin muttered, as if she couldn't quite believe it was true. “No-one except Emma, and she's...”
“You're going back to your cell,” the first guard told her, as she was led away. “You're getting written up, too. Disorderly conduct and attempting to provoke dissent.”
“This is fucked up,” said one of the women at a nearby table. “If Emma really saw that little girl -”
“We don't know it for sure,” Karen pointed out.
“But if she did, and if she's the first one...” She paused. “That means it's real. Like, really real. Like, the bullshit's over and now there's an actual ghost here!”
“Where are you going?” Karen asked as Amanda got to her feet.
Without answering, Amanda ran out of the room.
***
“I saw her.”
Sitting on her bunk, Robin slowly turned to look at Amanda, who was standing in the doorway.
“I saw her,” Amanda said again.
“Listen, don't -”
“I'm not lying,” she continued, heading into the cell. “I didn't say anything before because I just felt like no-one would believe me, like they'd think I was just making it up to get attention, but... I saw that little girl the other night.”
“Where?”
“Right here.” She turned to look at the chair in the corner. “I was sitting there, working on a letter and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her.”
Robin turned to look over at the chair.
“A little girl?” she asked finally.
Amanda nodded.
“And... did you look at her?”
“Almost. I felt like she was trying to force me to turn to her, and it was so hard not to, but I just kept telling myself that I had to stay strong. It sounds... I know it sounds crazy right now, almost like a dream, but I swear to you, I'm not making this up. She came closer to me and I felt really cold, and I had to concentrate so hard to make sure I didn't turn and stare into her eyes. I can't explain it, it's like she had some kind of power over me. Eventually she just vanished, but I swear, if she'd stayed even a second longer, I think I would have looked.”
“If you're just shitting me so you can -”
“I'm not!” Amanda said firmly. “Do you really think I'd lie at a time like this?”
Robin stared at her for a moment.
“I believe you,” she said finally.
“You do?”
“I guess we all kinda knew before that we were bullshitting,” she continued. “It was just this accepted thing, we all told a bunch of stories and we accepted that we were adding things on top, but when Emma said she saw something, I could tell she really believed it. There was something different about the fear in her eyes, like she'd been scared to the core of her soul, and then...” She looked over at the door. “When I saw her just now in her cell, it was like she was frozen in fear, like frozen in the moment when she died.”
“So that's two people,” Amanda replied, trying to stay calm. “I've seen the girl, and so has Emma. The only difference is, I didn't look into her eyes, and Emma did.”
Six months ago
“There,” Grace said as she ran the warm sponge across her mother's bare back. “Doesn't that feel nice?”
Sitting hunched naked in the bath, her mother stared straight ahead, as if she hadn't even heard her daughter's words.
“It must do,” Grace continued, dipping the sponge into the soapy water before wiping her back again. “You always make such a fuss about taking a bath, but it's never that bad, is it?” She glanced at her mother's scowling face. “Do you remember when you used to bathe me? It's funny how things work out, isn't it?”
Slowly, her mother turned to her.
“Almost done,” Grace told her. “I just -”
“Whore.”
“That's not a nice word,” Grace continued, forcing a smile as she began to wash her mother's armpits. “We've talked about it before, you shouldn't say things like that.”
“You're nothing but a dirty little whore,” her mother spat. “Everyone knows it. They talk about you down at the center. You're a disgusting trollop!”
“You haven't been to the retirement center for years,” she replied, “and I'm sure no-one thinks any such thing.”
“Why don't you have a boyfriend?”
“I don't have time.”
“Your cunt's probably diseased,” she continued. “Men can smell that a mile off, you know.”
“I spend all my time looking after you,” Grace pointed out, as she reached down between her mothers legs and pulled the plug out, allowing the soapy water to start draining away. “When would I have time to go and meet a nice man?” She grabbed a towel. “Now come on, let's -”
“Whore!” her mother shouted, swinging her arm at Grace and catching her cheek with her elbow, sending Grace crashing back down onto the cold bathroom floor. “Filthy whore!”
“Jesus,” Grace whispered, feeling the side of her face. “That's going to bruise.”
“Whore!”
“I'll just...” Getting to her feet, Grace hurried to the door. “I'll just fetch something. Wait right here.”
As soon as she was out in the corridor, she stopped and leaned back against the wall. Putting her hands up to her face, she finally began to sob uncontrollably.
Today
Sitting alone in his office, Governor Windsor stared straight ahead at the door. He could hear voices outside in the reception area, and he knew soon there'd be people hurrying in to tell him all about the inmate who'd been found dead. They'd want him to take charge, to inspire and to lead... and he felt he could do none of those things.
He was waiting.
Turning to look over at the f
ar side of the room, he was convinced that at any moment the little girl would appear to him again. He hadn't slept at all during the night, and even when morning came he'd felt no relief. She was coming, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he saw her again.
***
“Has somebody notified her family?” he asked a couple of minutes later, pacing past his desk and heading to the window.
“I've contacted the local police station,” Grace replied. “They're going to send officers round to tell them.”
“And the media?”
“Nothing's got out so far.”
“But it will.”
“Undoubtedly. We need to prepare a statement.”
“Draft it,” he replied, turning to her before looking over at Andrew Dunne. “What have you got to say for yourself? Did this dead woman not show any signs that she might be unstable?”
“None,” Andrew replied, “and to be honest... I know it's a little early to say for certain, but I don't think this was a suicide. When I spoke to her two days ago, Emma seemed to be very optimistic about things. She was due for a parole hearing in less than a month, and I think she had a good chance of getting out on early release. To be honest, it was the happiest I've ever seen her. I just don't see how this could have been a case of suicide.”
“Of course it was,” the governor snapped back at him. “Healthy young women don't just drop dead in their cells during the night. The girl probably had hidden problems, she quite clearly took her own life.”
“No,” Andrew said firmly, “she didn't.”
“And you're suddenly a medical expert, are you?”
“No, but I'm sure Doctor Bell will agree with me once she's examined the body. There's no way this can be brushed under the carpet as a suicide, governor. Emma Tate didn't show any behavioral changes that made me worry at all.”
