Aftermath.

542
  100%
  0

Tags

The snows of 1982 had Lancashire at a standstill...

Aftermath. A real haunting.

  The snows of 1982 had Lancashire at a standstill. People couldn't get to work. The streets were empty of traffic:people walked along in the middle of the main roads, kids sledging beside them. Victorian times came to mind: there was something magical and romantic about it. Soldiers from the near by camp had to help people dig out. I had met one of those soldiers  just a couple of weeks before. We would park up and snuggle under the stars in a place where a lot of couples did their courting, with only the sounds of the owls hooting...The place where mum had talked about...the place where we didn't venture as kids, with its reputation of being haunted...with its tales of witchcraft being practised on its site hundreds of years ago...where the tunnel under our old house apparently led...

  It was a  whirlwind romance where people all said the same: it wouldn't last. We would be married two weeks before his call of duty. By marrying a soldier you automatically get a house. Ours was in the army quarters in camp, in the middle of nowhere. At the front of our house we over looked woods. We were lucky to have such a view. I loved it.

  Within two precious weeks we had together I fell pregnant. When I told him over the phone it was the boost he needed. But while home one night on compassionate leave, I had the recurring nightmare the first since leaving the farm.

  "...It's...ere...Oh God, it's ere. It's followed me. I can see it in the shadows, watching...always watching. God may not love you but please go away," I whispered. "But it's not working, I can smell its foul odour. Not again sweet Jesus. Please not again..."

  "Wake up, hey come on. Wake up," he said softly. "Bloody hell, what were you dreaming about?" He could see the fear in my eyes.

  "It's ere," I sobbed searching the darkened room with tired eyes. "It's followed me." Lying in his arms I felt safe and secure but in another couple of nights he would be gone. He couldn't protect me then: nobody could. 

Global Scriggler.DomainModel.Publication.Visibility
There's more where that came from!