The dead wants company. Hers.
BY VICTORIA LEY
Christina picked up the cardboard and
held it carefully. She sat quietly for a few seconds, as did Sarah whilst she
let her friend collect her thoughts. “Bloody hell!” Christina dropped the card
so suddenly Sarah jumped, and the taller girl sat
back and pointed to the card. “Sarah! The
writing I saw...”
Sarah gasped. “Oh my
God! Do you think it’s ‘Stuart’ who led us to the cupboard?” She reached
forward for the card to make out the name for herself, but Christina grabbed
her wrist.
“No,” she said softly,
“don’t touch it.”
Sarah was taken aback
by the warning, and watched dumbstruck as Christina looked from her to the
card. “It didn’t say Stuart. There weren’t any words.”
“But you saw it?”
“I didn’t. I saw
letters.” Catching her friend’s expression, she proceeded gently.
“Consecutive letters, Sarah. ‘S,’ ‘T,’
and ‘U’. Guess what comes next?”
“The alphabet? Why?”
The look on Sarah’s face told Christina she needn’t answer. Realisation was
occurring, and the smaller girl’s eyes enlarged as she breathlessly concluded,
“A Ouija board!”
“They were using it
when the tree came through.” Christina nodded. “This could’ve been the last
thing they saw.”
“What? How the hell
could you know that?”
“Because I’ve just
realised what the stain is.”
Sarah
stared at Christina for a long time before finally looking down. The rotting
card had left a trail of rusty flakes from the cupboard to her feet, and as she
mentally linked the stain to the boys deaths, her stomach rolled. Bile pushed
itself through Sarah’s throat and into her mouth, and she gagged as she tried
to suppress it. Instinctively covering her mouth with her hands, she pulled
them back quickly and heaved again as she was fronted by the sight and smell of
the old, dried blood that clung to her palms. Christina looked at the floor in
silence as Sarah sprang to her feet and ran across the carpet, managing to open
the bedroom door with her elbows before escaping out into the bathroom. Folding
over the toilet, her lungs burned with every contraction, but she encouraged
it, and it was only when the sound of vomit splattering into the pan floated back into the bedroom that Christina joined her.
2 comments:
Great excerpt. Nice spine tingling tension.
Thank you for your comment, Rosalie :)
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