Deliver Us From Mary

On the day Mr and Mrs Forester plan to have a family lunch with their daughter, Kitty, and meet at a diner near his firm. Plans go array when little Kitty’s excitement gets the better of her, leading her to snatch her hand from her mommy she then runs across a busy intersection in the hopes of reaching her father. Meanwhile Mrs. Forester is forced to run after her except, unlike her daughter, she was unsuccessful in reaching her husband.

This day is cloudy-overcast with dismal gray blankets, disabling the sun of its warm luminous rays. Days suchlike this one tended to have a formidable effect on me; like a warning telling me to stay at home; close the curtains; protect your child from the wanton ways of this foreboding day. But, I feel, it was nearly impossible to avoid. This was the week my husband started working longer hours at the law firm, where he was basically consumed with several cases at a time for no discernible reason besides the fact that there were fewer lawyers available since the massive cuts they had to make in the past month. I hardly every saw Keith, I missed him so much and so did Kitty, my daughter, she is two years old and claims my world in the most miraculous of ways.

My husband and I made it a rule to have lunch together, as a family, every Wednesday in this little cafe/diner near is firm. The time of day would be five, my most hated time of day; too much traffic and drivers never have the sense to slow down. They keep moving-never stopping the pursuit that dominates their life cycles.

“Mommy, are we going to daddy?” my little Kitty asked me. I held her soft hand in mine as we walked along the sidewalks surrounded by screaming horns and screeching tires.

“Yes, darling.” I replied.

The biggest smile lights up her face and I know she is happy. She hasn’t seen her father in four days because of the late hours and the early morning departures. Her happiness is palpable and I feel myself feeding off of it-letting it enter me through our intertwined fingers.

I see my husband before Kitty does and I wave at him and he waves back with his tired smile and handsome eyes. He is a fairly tall man so he was not hard to miss in the after work bustle. His body was wide with the muscles of a surprisingly fit man and thick luxurious chestnut hair smoothed back into a wave. I thought it made him look maturely boyish, adorable.

Kitty sees him now and she does something that shocks me out of my mini musings. She yanks her hand out of mine and darts into the street daring the passing cars with her naïve challenge.

“Kitty!” I hear Keith scream. He shakes me out of my shock and I run after her. Cars are screaming and swerving, hitting each other with the slightest maneuvers because of the narrow lanes. I try not to scream her name for the worry of her stopping in the middle of the street. So I run, as fast as I can for what seems like forever to catch her even though it may have been no more than three seconds. I hear Keith scream her name again and he has already run into the street after her while Kitty continues to run towards him flailing her arms ignorant to the fact that her life was in danger.

Keith reaches her before I do and scoops her up. I slow my pace a bit to let my heart slow down its painful pounding.

I hear the loudest blare of a horn I have ever heard.

And I am knocked off of my feet into a darkness so bleak. I cannot breath and I feel the worst pain in my neck and thick liquid is everywhere from what I can feel.

There is light, everywhere there is light.


Horns blaring and screaming with indignation.

I feel nothing. I see only light. I smell burnt skin and old pennies.

“Oh dear… she was such a lovely woman. Pity….” said a light voice, male. Elderly? “Such a shame… so pitiful.”

I open my eyes and I am standing on the sidewalk where I was before I ran. Everything is bright in contrast and soft around the edges. The passing bodies of passersby leave speed trails behind them, like a fastly passing car you can still see the car’s body trailing behind it despite the fact the it passed by that spot only a nanosecond ago. It is like the world is going too fast yet I am seeing it in slow motion.

“It is amazing isn’t it?” said the light voice. I look to my left and see a short elderly man in baby blue robes observing what looks like an accident in the middle of the street.

I do not answer the old man, I only stare at the spectacle before me. There is a large rig with a tanker on the back-maybe a petroleum tanker. And there are spectators everywhere- all looking in the same direction; not looking at the truck but below it. I move-or rather glide, as it seems, closer to the scene and I…I see body, wrangled and bloodied- her neck is twisted in the most grotesque way. But I feel nothing and it is only when I recognize the woman when I see lying on the unsubtle concrete stage.

It is me. My body. Ruined and dead and horrifying!

I felt a little pull in my stomach that suggest nausea but it goes away almost instantly and I glide closer. My eyes are still open-nobody had the decency to close them, protect my spirit.

I kneel down and reach out towards my face- wet now from the rain that must have started falling while I was in the dark- but my hand went through my face, touching the concrete instead.

A hand touches my shoulder and I look over it to see the old man staring down at me, sympathy-pity in his eyes, the palpable fix is obvious to me and I shrug his hand away.

“It is ordered of me to send you away from here.” he said.

“Why…” I said bitterly, non questioningly. I am angry-yet I am scared now because a thought just trickled into my mind.


I saw Keith scope her up but I did not see them in the messy blur of the people.

The hand touches my shoulder again, this time pulling me up, back, away from the scene.

I let him.

He told me to be calm, be still. I am okay, he says, I am but a spirit in purgatory.

“Purgatory?” I asked.

“You have not passed on…unfinished business.” he said.

He never told me his name only that I was to call him the Elder and that he was my chaperone until I figured out what it was that kept me from passing.

I stayed in this white box for some time listening to his preachings- knowledge of the deceased. The purity of natural demise.

It felt as if I were in school again as a child, listening to my teachers go on and on about a particular subject that would never be useful to me in the real world. I felt just like that now. I felt like I was receiving useless information, I felt restrained. I wanted to know what happened to Keith, and my little Kitty. He would never tell me, he only said that I was not ready to see them. He told me the power that I have as a ghost were to tempting to leave me with alone, even as an observer of the living world. I barely understood his protest but I made myself content with it. Hardly.

He was teaching me the rules of moving solid objects when I felt my patience for pedantic lessons in special ed ghost living reach its peak.

I snapped.

“I have to see my daughter!” I screamed at him.

He hardly flinched and merely smiled as I continued on with my outburst.

“I need my baby! I want my husband! I need- do you hear me?!- need my family! I don’t care if I can’t touch them or speak to them! I just want to see my family, Elder!”

He nodded his head once and clapped a slow rhythm as if he was proud I finally stood up to him.

“What!” I demanded.

“You are angry.” he laughed.

If I weren’t dead my face would have turned a heinous scarlet.

“Elder…” I said exasperated by his nonchalance.

He holds his hand up to stop my demands.

“You are ready.” he said. “But I must warn you: several years have passed- no no, listen- several years have passed and things are not like what they used to be. They may even frighten you. Their light is gone and their world is now in a dark place.”

“What happened?”

“I will let you see for yourself. But let me remind you now,” he said sternly, “you are not to play guardian angel or interfere with their lives in any way, you will be stripped completely of your ghostly inheritance and sent to a place very close to another where, trust me, you would never want to be.

I nodded.

“Please take me down.”

“You will be tempted…”

“I promise, I won’t interfere.” I said quietly.

He waves his hand the white box falls away to a dark starless night. No luminescent moon to shine light upon the dreary world, not a wishful start blemishing the face.

Elder and I are in front of a one story house with a weed infested lawn that begged to be cut and trimmed and treated to with flower bushes here and there and a small apple tree. The shingles were old and rusty on the roof and the spots that lacked a shingle now lay in the overgrown lawn lost to the world as they passed it by.

There were lights on in the house even though it had to be close to midnight. The air was cold and trees lacked leaves. It has to be winter.

“Go on.” said Elder. “I will follow.”

I walk-glide unsure up the badly paved driveway and through the old paint chipped walls.

The TV is blaring gun shots from some action movie and since the TV is on I go to that room first. I enter a small living room and it wreaks of old food, mold, and sweat. There is a Lazyboy recliner in front of the TV and a loveseat against the wall diagonal to it. The coffee table is littered with plastic cups and pizza boxes and- and a….a box, opened, inside are several syringes.

In the recliner sits Keith, he is no longer the handsome man I had fallen in love with and died with his image in my mind. His stomach overlapped his waistband by several inches and he now had a full beard and his beautiful chestnut hair is now streaked with a little gray and is disheveled. His brown eyes are glassy and dreamy and I wondered if he was dead for a moment before I noticed that his chest rose and fell still.


“He lost his job two months after you died.” Elder explained. “He couldn’t focus and he-he had a nervous break down, nearly went to an asylum diagnosed with insanity. His mother got him out though, Mrs. Forester, a lovely woman.”

I nodded.

“Yes, she was a wonderful woman, I miss her dearly. I should see how she is when I am finished here.”

Elder holds his head down.

“She died two years after you, stroke.”

I squeeze my eyes closed knowing still that I would never cry again. Kitty…without a mother figure for who knows how many years and her father…. a j-j- oh I can’t even think it. I never would have thought this would happen to him. Not my Keith, not that man.

“How long has it been, Elder?”

“Fourteen years…”

“Fourteen!” I shouted and I could have sworn I saw Keith flinch, his eyes became more aware and he tried to mumble something.

He jumped out of his recliner and turned violently around in circles.


My breath caught, though I haven’t had a breath in years.


He said my name that night, called me in the night. Begged me to come to him and hold him, rock him to peace again.

I wanted so badly to cry that night but times frozen for me and it is impossible. I glided towards him and reached out to him. Elder took my wrist before I could touch Keith and pulled me away.

“Keith…” was all that could escape my lungs before Elder had us back in the box again.

“I told you.”

“I don’t want to hear that… I want to go back.”

He shakes his head. “You need to calm yourself first.” he said, “He heard you. That!- was not supposed to happen! They are not supposed to hear you.”

I smirk.

“Since when were there rules about what is supposed to happen or not?”

He glared at me and turned away, his robe turning with him in an elegant swirl of blue.

“I want to go back.”

“No! I need to speak to Him first. You stay and calm yourself before you get us both in trouble.” he snapped, he was shaking so badly and his forehead was surprisingly dotted with beads of perspiration.

He left me in the box alone. And it seemed like the light went with him. I was alone and my heart ached the faintest ache I had ever felt in a long time.

It was some time before Elder let me out again.

He made me swear not to speak above a whisper and to keep my hands to myself lest forcing him to bind them behind my back, he would have been happy to do that, what with all the trouble I had cost him the last time.

“How long?”

“Not long, only five months.”

I nodded and went through the wall.

The day was a bright and cloudless afternoon and the house felt empty.

“Where is he?”

“They are sleeping.”

“Doesn’t Kitty have school? How old is she now?”

“She dropped out last year. And she is sixteen now. She works at DC Burgers part time. But Mary-”

There was a crash behind a closed door, like something falling onto tile, glass.

Elder and I glided over to the sound’s destination and a door swung open on the right before I passed it and a young girl stomped out and down the hall to another closed door. I stop moving and just watch her. She bangs her fist on the door.

“Keith!” she shouted, she bangs on it again.”Keith, get your fat ass out of the bathroom! Are you messing with my stuff again!” She bangs on it again only this time she shoves open the door herself and Keith is on his hands and knees, blood on his hands, picking up the broken glass.

The girl scoffs and shoves Keith out of the bathroom and slams the door behind her.

Keith’s hands are cut with deep gashes from the glass and I can see his veins under his pale hairy skin.

I glide over to him as he lay still on the floor. I want so badly to touch him but I can feel Elder’s gaze burning into my head threatening me with images of tightly bound wrist in chains.

I restrain myself.

Keith coughs and brings himself slowly to his feet and starts towards the kitchen. I let him go and instead stare at the closed door of the room he was just evicted from.

Kitty is in there.

My baby.

She has grown so much- looks so different. Her hair is a dark-dark red and she is so pale and thin. I hear the toilet flush and Kitty comes out of the bathroom wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. That is when I get to see her face. I glided through the walls into her room and see Kitty for the first time in fourteen years. She looks just like her grandmama: little mouth, big green eyes, high cheek bones. My beautiful baby girl.

But she is sickeningly skinny now that I see her. She starts to change and I start to turn away to give her privacy but then I see a cut on her waist, and her arms and her chest. I glided over to her so fast I disturbed the air and a paper fell. She turned around and faced me head on with me only a foot away. I see the cuts more clearly now as she stares through me at the fallen paper, knowing there is no breeze in the stuffy room.

Some of the cuts are self-self inflicted. Others are-they look like battle scars.

Kitty…what have you been doing, baby.

She turns away and so do I and face Elder with a questioning look.

He shakes his head sadly and turns away as well and glides out of the room. I follow him but he has gone. He left me here alone or only made himself scarce to me.

I turn back to Kitty’s room but decided against going in. I don’t want to see those scars again.

I, instead, go into the kitchen and see Keith with a band around his arm and a needle in his hand. I stop suddenly and watch him. He stabs his arm with the vile concoction and I try- I really do try- to hold in my shriek, but I can’t, and I let it go.

Keith drops his needle and Kitty runs out of her room half dressed.

“What the hell?” she said.

“Mary?” said he.

“She’s dead, you idiot!” she yelled at him, only making me want to scream again.

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Keith yelled back, covering his ears with his hands and rocking back and fourth.

“You crazy old bastard!” she screamed.

I flinch at her language and I can feel the shriek building inside me. Kitty slams her door again and Keith sinks to fetal position and rocks back and fourth still covering his ears.

Kitty yanks her door open again and stomps down the hall into the kitchen, Kieth is blocking the refrigerator and she kicks him out of the way. And he lets her, only to roll into a ball on the floor.

It is still building, I can feel it, I know it’s coming.

“Bye, Keith,” Kitty quietly said.

Before she was out the door Keith yelled after her, “It’s all your fault!”

I’m in the box screaming until the need to scream finally ceased and all the while Elder watched me, arms folded, and leaned against the wall with a weary expression and a hint of annoyance.

“I think you underestimated the situation, Elder.”

He shrugged and continued to stare.

“What happened to their guardians?”

“She was vanquished when their world was consumed.”

“By what!” I demanded.

“By free will, darkness, bad choices. She couldn’t survive there, Mary.” he said quietly.


“Kitty is…disturbed. Keith is hopeless, He lost his mind years ago,” he said, “a broken heart will do that to a man in love…”

“He wasn’t suppose to-”

“Fate is odd sometimes, what happened has happened and you are only a spectator of these current events. You seem to forget that when you are around them.”

“What do you expect! They are my family, Elder!”

He glares at me, forcing it, I know he never wishes to threaten me unless it is truly necessary.

“They were your family, not anymore,” he said harshly, his voice cracked and I knew he wanted to hold me, heal the pain he had just inflicted upon me.

That was the first time I felt a tear stain my face.

“I want to go back.”

He sighs and waves his hand.

“I think it is time you come to the realization that they are doomed. Beautiful humans consumed by dark fate. There is nothing I can allow you to do and you are not to help them. They are not your family anymore.”

“I know that!” I hissed at him,“I just want to see them…”

He nodded his head and the walls fell away.

We stood alone in the kitchen, the house was dark and quiet, the smell was not as pungent as it had been the first night I arrived and I wondered if that was because they cleaned or I am just immune.

I glided down the hall, taking my time to ingest my surroundings. The house was still a wreak and there was a dried puddle of blood left behind in the kitchen from where Keith had lain in fetal desperation. And Kitty just left him there. I hoped fiercely that he hadn’t lost a fatal amount of blood.

I continued on to the back of the house towards the bedrooms and spotted a closed door. I went through.

The room was painted black and the walls were covered with photos; drawings tacked up; armature paintings hung.

Photographs framed.

I saw a drawing tacked and I knew immediately who the artist was. It was a drawing of Kitty and her daddy holding hands in what looked like a little garden. And there was another next to it of a dark haired woman lying in a box with red smudges on her face. My stomach knotted and I turned away it.

A photograph caught my eye and I see myself, and Keith and Kitty all squeezed together so Keith could take the picture with his free hand, the other being around my waist pulling me closer while squishing Kitty to the point where she squealed her sweet little laugh. I could hear her laugh echo in the silence of the night.

I looked away and started to leave before I saw the picture hanging across from me. It was Keith and I…our wedding-smiling happily with bright love in our eyes. I could literally see the sparkle in his eyes from where I stood and I moved closer to it. His smile was so beautiful, boyish and handsome like the last time I saw him with my living eye. And myself-with my arms wrapped around him- I have never seen myself so happy.

“Pity..” said Elder as he gazed at the photo over my shoulder.

I can’t do this.

I can’t forget my family and leave them here like this. Leave Kitty here with those marks. Leave Keith here with his pain.

I went out of the black room and into Kitty’s, she lies asleep in her full sagging mattress. Her sheets are filthy and the odor is nearly impossible to ignore. Her lamp was still on and a book was laid out over her belly. I looked more closely and found that it was her journal. I inconspicuously glanced over my should to find Elder but he was nowhere to be seen. I lifted the book, without touching it, off of her belly and flipped it over so I could scan her recent entry.

I needed to know what was going on and how this happened.

I can never forget. I will never forget. No matter what Elder said.

Dear Diary

Today is Wednesday and I can remember everything- everything from that day so many years ago. I Hate Wednesday! Why does this day have to exist. I just want to forget, but God won’t let me. Keith won’t let me. He still screams at me that it was all my fault; that I was so stupid, that I was so stupid, that I was so stupid!

Why won’t you let me forget! Or kill me yourself! I have tried so many times but I just can’t do it. The blade wont go as deep as I need it to. I need to just suck it up and do it. Keith wont miss me. He will be glad I’m dead, one less thing for him to deal with. Not that he deals with anything anymore, the crazy bastard. I want to kill him sometimes, make him feel the pain he causes me. Let him join up with Mary in hell where he belongs. They both can go to hell! Oh! It well never be Keith’s fault… it was always mine. Why did I run? Why was I so stupid! Why did you make me do that! I just want my mommy; I want my mommy; I want my mommy.

I’m sorry mommy.

I’m so sorry.

I looked up- away from the contents of the journal and into Kitty’s eyes as she sits up in her bed staring, frightened, at the floating book.

She can’t see me.

But she can see the book in the air. She watched it move as I moved to her nightstand, take her pen. She continues to stare as I write in her journal:


“Mary!” screamed Elder. Kitty jumped and I drop the book in her lap before I whirl around to see him facing me, a look of disgust and indignation plastered on his face. “What have you done…”

I hold my chin up.

I owe you nothing.

“Answer me!”

I hear Kitty squeal… she is trying so hard not to scream.

My brave baby.

I turn to her and reach out my hand. She does not see it, instead she turns her journal over and sees my message.

Elder clutches my wrist but I yank it out and push him away somewhere through the wall. I turn towards Kitty again and I touch her cheek gently with my hand.

Kitty looks up, her eyes widen, she touches my hand.


She sees me. A tear streams down her cheek.


She chokes on her tears which are now pouring and she tries to clutch my hand tighter but it only falls through and touches her own cheek.

“Mommy!” She squeaks. Her voice is still sweeter than sugar, easily broken by broken love. I’m sorry, baby.

Elder yanks me away from her draggingme back into his white prison.

“You have gone too far!” he bellowed

“I haven’t gone far enough!” I screamed at him, “Let me back down!”

“No, you’re done.” he glared at me. This old man I have never seen so full of hared and disgust. He looked neither hurt nor sympathetic.

“I had to do it, Elder.”

“That was not your job! You upset their fate!”

“I. Had. To.”

“And you knew your consequences…”

“She needed to know!”

“She was meant to suffer!”

My heart ached more painfully than I had ever felt, even when I was alive.

“She is a baby, Elder.”

“Babies need to suffer too.”

The ache came again.

“You… are so wrong.”

“I’m not the one going to Hell, Mary.” he looks me up and down and turns around shimmering away.

The ache in my heart is unbearable and I fall, face first, and roll onto my back clutching my chest. I hear his voice, so far away, from the day I died and so many others.



“Poor lady…”

“Oh my God!”

“Somebody help!”

“Mary!” Oh! Keith.

“Stand back!”

“Mommy?” Oh!


“They are no longer your family, they are doomed. I think it is time you face this realization…”

“You… are so wrong.”

“I am not the one going to Hell…”

I rolled onto my side and I see Elder with the man in Red come to me take into his dread, never leaving an ounce to shed for he does not care for what is said…

“I’m already there.”

The night Mary Forester revealed herself to her daughter was the night the fate of the remaining Forester’s lives would change, for the better.

Kitty never told her father what happened that night but the weight of the blame was lifted miraculously from her shoulders enabling her to change her perspective on life and her future. The dark overcast of shame and regret simultaneously shimmered away as the bright light of love and expectations filled her cylinder.

Kitty Forester continued to work at DC Burgers but only to raise money to help her father cleanse himself, and with that cleanse her father’s mind seemed to slowly rotate back to natural reality. He no longer shouted his wife’s name nor did he scream at his daughter.

A chain reaction had been set by the brave risk Mary Forester took.

She healed her family as much as she was able to and even then the healing that she procured made a dramatic change in her husband’s life.

He changed himself, for his daughter as well as for his own well being. He was able to work into getting a degree in psychology so that he could become a mental health doctor for widows dealing with the deceased lovers.

By the time Kitty turned twenty-five she had her first child, a little girl named Mary, and a job she cherished being a social worker; working most cases involving troubled teens who lost their parents to drugs. She was married to a doctor Mathew Jade; she met him in her third year of college and couldn’t stop herself from falling in love with him.

Although Keith was clean and working again he still occasionally fell into reveries his wife and himself had made together over the years. He would hold her picture in his hand and cry tears of joy or sadness depending on the reverie that overtook his thoughts. He praised Kitty’s marriage to Mathew and was overjoyed when he was named Godfather for little Mary Jade. He loved Mary more than anything, as if she were his own baby girl. Mary seemed to be the only living being that could make Keith so happy and sedate.

Mary Forester never got to see her family after that night. She was condemned for eternity for her disobedience. But she felt the elation in her family’s lives. She knew she did what was right, and would do again without hesitation.


And He Said…

 Set in late 1600s this tale is consist of the exchanging of love letters between Dovantie and Lovania who had been separated by an inevitable parting distance. Enjoy! Date August 23rd


“My dearest Lovania :

I miss you so…Dear Lovania

When may I see you again?” he says to me.

My lover-oh!- my secret beau.

He writes to me with sadness and woe

From across the seas- over yonder since the last Christ’s Eve.


Date September 1st

“Miss me no longer, dear Dovanie, for I

Shall call upon you within a fortnight,”

I assure his plea.

My darling Dovanie… How I have miss thee

Just as so.

My words are sure to fail me, for I cannot express my want so curtly, my love.


Date September 8th

“My lovely Lovania :

May a fortnight pass

Us with haste, for I can no longer bear

Thine absence from me. Thine skin, being so far

A ways from mine own is but maddening

To my chastened self!

I must have you in my arms once more-

Feel thine paled soft skin against my palm-

Grasp thine long silky red locks that bestay me calm.”

I say to she.

No! I cannot remain in this loft

So far from her grasp!

I must see her- see her face,

The beauty that bestows itself upon she.

My love… My dearest love.


Date September 18th

“My love:

I have decided to call upon

Thee instead.

I shall arrive within less than a fortnight.”


Date October 1st

“No! These waters are impassable, my love.

They are hard with ice and snow is among me.

You must stay where you are-

Make no attempt in such a dangerous venture.”

My love.

My joy, please concur.

Write me assurance.

Tell me you will not sail.


Date October 25th


My love?

Where have you gone?

Why have I not received word from you?

Have you set the sails and gone to?

My, dearest love, please do write me…

I clench my fist in fright for you, love.


Date October 27th

“My dearest Lovania :

I am sorry but I have

Received thine letter too late to reconsider.

I am currently on a vessel do north,

Your direction, my dear.

Pray for my safe arrival.

I shall be there soon.”


Dearest Goddess!

May you shadow him in your glove?

Oh!- that wretched man!

No… I should not curse his name or he may be damned.

I shall pray for his safe sail.


Date November 5th

Too long… too long, my love.

Where are you?

It is so cold… so cold the waters are.


Harder than the rocks that surround me.

These icy tears sprinkle my hair- my shoulders,

My gown.

The land is all but a bolder


White with the snow that has fallen in dozens.

Where is my love?

My heart fills with the hope that he has not fallen.


Date November 26th

“My dearest Dovanie:

My heart is flooding with fright.

Tis been nearly a fortnight

And I have not heard from you.

Are you safe?

Should I wait for thee?

Should I lose hope and find another?

No… I would never do that.

My heart only belongs to thee

And I shall cleanse my spirit and remain pure.

No other shall receive this gift but you, my love.”


December 1st

I can no longer hope for your survival.

The storm is still so brutal and you- so silent were you.

I hold our letters tightly with redemption in the palms

Of my hands and pray for thine lost soul, my love.

I dress in black to mourn your loss.

I let my hair free- flow free in the breeze.

The sprinkles of white clouds continuously fall at me feet,

And I wonder, did thou suffer?

Did you hurt my love?

Should mourn stronger and faster in woe?

Is that something that should be entitled?

These fidgety limbs of mine do shake, wan

So suddenly from cold snowy air.

Our letters fall, gracefully, from my hands.

They float and fly for freedom,

Reaching for the stars as their utmost goal

Soaring desperately to reach that ample moon

Over the seas into snow peaked mountains,

Into the skies that glitter with light.

I’ll miss our letters, my dearest Dovanie.

But I must mourn now

And mourn a lone.

Premonition (1# Trainwick Series)

Premonition is a fairly old story I wrote some  months ago, but I decided to share it with you guys anyway. This is the first installment to my short story series “Trainwick”. It follows the life of an English girl who apparently has the power to see visions. Premonitions to be more specific.

I already have the second installment but I’ll post that another time and let you guys breathe this one in.

Here is the Summary (which, to be honest, I am very bad at writing):

Luna Trainwick has her first premonition involving a woman named Ada Pembrooke. But things do not turn out the way they should have and Ms. Pembrooke ends up meeting her inevitable doom which later turns into an unexpected surprise for Luna when she finds out she can see ghost as well.

If you knew some one was going to die; knew when and where it would happen; who it would happen to, but not why it would happen. Would you save them?

Save a complete stranger from what probably would have been their timely death?

Could you watch it happen right before your eyes and live with the guilt that was bound to come with it?

I couldn’t.

But I let it happen.

The woman was middle aged with salt and pepper hair, thick knowledgeable brows, tiny gray eyes and a full pouty mouth.

She was a beautiful woman but her eyes screamed lonely and forgotten. Her countenance lacked happiness. So cold and empty. She wore a long black dress the reached all the way down to the floor with a large lacy top hat perched atop her crown. She held a black umbrella in her pale hands as she strutted down the lane as only a true English woman could.

Her name was Ada Pembrooke; a British woman who had been residing in London, England, for over three decades.

Her whole life, actually.

Ms. Pembrooke has had the same routine for twenty years. Never a minute too late or too early and to be late (in her case) was never excusable. She treated tardiness like a sin and early arrivals as if they were unnecessary and selfish; other wordily known as a slightly less presumptuous sin. Which is all the more reason why she made such an excellent schooling teacher. She was as stern as leather whip.

I never knew this woman…during her living moments. But she has shared a great deal with me in her afterlife.

That is another thing; I was not aware- until after meeting Ms. Pembrooke- that I could see ghost, let alone, speak to them. I assumed it to be because I had seen her fate the night before it happened.

I had a vision.

My first premonition.

It was like having a nightmare. A very real nightmare where I could feel everything: the coldness of a bitter winter breeze; the sting of icy raindrops; the smell of patrol as cars drove up and down thoroughfares, through gritty fog and back again, too blind to see any traveling pedestrian; I felt a sudden chill- the sort of chill that has nothing to do with cold.

I felt the chill of death all around me.

I’ll never forget that chill.

I had the vision the night I had been tempted to run away from home…again. Running from my home- out into the night- circling the block, passing the old Clock Tower, and crossing over Thames. I sat on the walkway tasting the cold night air on my drying tongue. A few clouds- here and there- blanketed a very large moon with thick gray threads. The wind blew through my long white hair, my dress – though very heavy- danced with the wind a slight itself. It was very late at night, hardly a soul walking these dark dismal streets. The lights of the Parliament were all dark and dear old Ben chimed as his needles signaled midnight.

That is when it happened.

Black feathers; first one, then another. Then dozens floating in circles around me I caught one as it floated past my face and I could see that it was a Raven’s feather. There were hundreds now- floating all around- dreamlike in a way that seemed to try and force its way into my conscience. Dark clouds swirling around me in a twister of thick fog. Then everything- the Parliament disappeared and in its place I saw a long street. There was a fierce storm pouring rain down hard on every English head that wandered. There was darkness framing my vision, focusing my eyes on a pale woman holding a large black umbrella and pinching her face against the freezing rain. I could barely see her through the thick mass of fog blanketing the street, probably the whole city as well, and cars were flying up and down the street as if oblivious to the fact that it was too foggy to see even a foot ahead of the vehicle. It was very easy to spot Ms. Pembrooke, though. She was the only person with darkness hovering around her body as she navigated the walkway unaware of the thick ominous mist about her. She looked left and right as she prepared to cross the street. She never saw the truck speeding up the lane closing in to deal her death.

My vision started to blur as the truck came nearer to the woman and it seemed to be picking up speed to the point where it seemed as if the driver meant to hit her.

The driver blew his deafening horn but it was to late.

I never foresaw the truck hitting her because the premonition faded out at the last second; the sound of ear piercing screams being the last thing I heard before I found myself sitting on the walkway across from the Parliament. The feathers were gone and the large clock read twelve-oh-five.

‘Only five minutes?’ I thought, surly I could have sworn it felt more like thirty.

I picked myself up and started back towards my domicile, I was suddenly frightened about being out so late in the night by myself. I followed my earlier route back through the empty streets, past the Ben, and onwards towards my sanctuary.


The next day I woke to a chill that rushed through my veins, down my spin, and to the tips of my toes. My eyes were soar and my fingertips were white; as white as my hair, maybe whiter. I attempted to sit up in my bed but my back was painfully stiff. I felt like I belonged in a retirement home. When I finally did get myself out of bed I slowly made my way over to the mirror that hung over my dresser. My skin looked pasty and was sticky with drying sweat and my hands were shaking. But what really got my attention were my eyes!- they were a bright fuchsia around the irises. They were originally green! I nearly screamed in terror after I saw them but I stopped myself with a shaky hand over my mouth. I froze for a few seconds to make sure my parents had not heard me. It was quiet so I let my hand drop and tried to hold back the urge to panic.

“Luna, it is nearly time for school!” my mother called. “Come- come, darling, we wouldn’t want you to be late…again.” The final word she said with a lot less enthusiasm.

I promptly sought out a pair of my darkest sunglasses, swallowing the panic that I had just minutes ago nearly let entice me enough to scream ‘Bloody Hell!’ to the top of my lungs, and quickly threw on my uniform. At least as best as anyone could throw on such thickly layered attire such as this blasphemous dress! I had to put on a thick black dress with frilly white sleeves, wrist cuffs and neck lace and so many strings to tie I had to have my mother help me unless she was kind enough to tie them for me beforehand and there was a large silver cross embroidered somewhere below the knee of the dress. Not that I have a problem with the cross.

When I had my knee-highs laced up ( which, in my opinion, really throw off the entire rig) I snatched my sunglasses off my dresser and put them on to hide my eyes.

“There you are,” said my mother, as I rushed from the hall into the kitchen “Wait! Aren’t you going to eat your breakfast?” She was scrambling eggs in her old black skillet and I saw bread toasting in the oven.

“Uh- no, mum, I’m not really hungry.” I said; keeping my eyes averted and slowly backing away towards the door. “I promise I’ll eat lunch later!” And ran out of the house before she could say her usual “Have a nice day!”. My father’s car was gone so I assumed he already left for work which was just lucky for me because that gave me one less parent to avoid.

It was pouring rain outside this morning; not quite a storm but one seemed to be rapidly approaching. I rushed to school because of this, and I had left my umbrella at home in my haste to escape. My back had stopped hurting after I got dressed but it was still stiff enough to slow me down.

I took a side street that I hoped would shorten my route and I ended up on a street that I was vaguely familiar with.

I had this strange feeling as if I have walked down this road countless times before. I shrugged it off and easily made my way to another side street that led to the road I was looking for. A small chill passed through me as I continued on my path to school.

The classes, the teachers’ chastise, the prejudice gossip all seemed to breeze by in an empty wind. I hardly noticed any of it. I was too busy worrying about my eyes and predicting which teacher would scold me for wearing sunglasses in their class.

So I invented a rather fine scheme.

Thankfully I did not have to use it until third period.


“Miss Trainwick,” said Professor Duggen, “you know students are not permitted to wear accessorized dark glasses during chemistry lesson. Please remove them.” His voice was as plain as paper but he looked at me as if I were some bloody animal preparing to wreak havoc.

I stood there for a minute. Clearing my throat before I announced my excuse.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” I said, making sure that my tone sounded faint and pitiful. I knew that my skin still looked pasty and that supported my lie, making it seem more presumptive. “I have an awful migraine and the lights- the lights are just too much.”

Duggen glared at me for a few more seconds before he let out a long exaggerated huff.

“I suggest you make your way to the nurse.” he said dryly, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. I was sure I had probably caused him to have his own headache.

I snatched my book off the counter and rushed out of the class.

My vision blurred and I saw a flash of a woman standing in the rain; that darkness clouding around her was so thick it was hard to believe she could not see it herself. I had to stop in the middle of what used to be the hallway. “Used to be” because the hallway was no longer there. Only black feathers and the darkness cloaked woman standing in the rain under her umbrella. She did not move, though, like she did in my last vision. She only stood there. Staring at me with black eyes.



Her eyes were gray.

But they were not gray this time. They were a shiny black. So shiny a black, they were, that I nearly mistook them for marbles.

She stared straight at me with a look of disdain and pity. My heart started to flutter an unusual rhythm as the truck started speeding its way up the lane. Pembrooke smiled a black toothed smile at me before she started making her way to the middle of the street. In the middle of the truck’s lane. All the while she walked she was staring at me with that hideous grin on her face.

The truck sped up the lane and…vanished?-at the same time the truck would have hit Pembrooke.

The woman stands there laughing at me as the truck dissipates into thick white steam around her.

My vision fades out quickly and I find myself back in the empty hallway.

The whole school seemed silent- other than my breathing- it was eerily quiet.

A massive ball seemed to drop in my stomach then, and I started to feel horribly nauseous. I ran to the nurse’s office and threw the door open without knocking first. I rushed through the office to the bathroom and dry heaved over the toilet.

“Oh… dear, “ said Mrs. Wellcot, she had been the nurse at my school for as long as I have been there, “Miss Trainwick, what is the matter with you?” I hardly ever had to see the nurse. This was my third visit in the three years that I had attended the school.

I kept heaving for what seemed like nearly an hour before I could speak again.

And even then I came up with the most absurd excuse.

I smiled up at her and said “I’m fine.”

The woman looked at me as if I had gone mad.

I did not blame her, actually, because I probably had.

“Luna,” she says after a brief moment of impenetrable staring, “I think it is best if you go lay down on cot for a bit.”

I let out a short groan.

“Mrs. Wellcot, I think I should go home.” I said, feigning a stomach cramp. “My mum will come and pick me up.”

The nurse stares skeptically at me for a moment before nodding her head.

“Fine, I’ll let the principle know you are taking leave.”

I smile wearily up at her and slowly get to my feet. That part was not particularly feigned because my limbs were stiff again.

When I was on my feet I took my cell and flipped it open as if I were about to dial my mum. I smiled at the nurse and left. Closing my cell as soon as the door closed.

I rushed out of the school in pursuit of my curb near Thames.

But I was stopped by this awful scream.

It was as if it were in my head. Ear splitting with an echoing fade. I pressed my palms to my ears but that did nothing block out the shutter-some noise.

I swore and started running again in a useless attempt of escaping the screams.

I ran back the way I had came from home and found myself back at the street that seemed so distantly familiar. I stopped at the curb looking for my way.

A storm had begun some time around one o’clock. There was so much fog I could barely see where I was running. I could not see the street I was looking for and the rain was so heavy it fell in drops the size of cricket balls.

There very few things I disliked about the city but one of those things was that whenever there was thick fog it covered everything. I was surprised there were people out driving and rushing around the walkways running last minute errands.

I scanned the roads and allyways as well as could despite the fog corrupting my vision.

Then I saw her.


And it was as if time slowed down, she was walking out of a little market with a tiny black bag. She stopped to tuck it into her large handag.

My blood froze, literally, frozen in my veins. My body numbed and I would have fallen if I had not leaned against a dirty brick wall.

Ada Pembrooke strutted up the street aiming in my direction. She did not look at me, I was not a personal being to her as she was to me. The rain had somehow managed to soak Ada quite a bit, she stopped a moment to adjust her hat and skirts at the curb of the walkway.

A black feather flew past my line of sight on her and after it past I saw it.

The darkness.

It nearly swallowed her whole, that was how thick it had been.

She looked left and right as she started crossing the street and I wondered, ‘how come I had not called out to her?’, surly she would have heard me and stopped just seconds before the truck would hit her. But I could not, it was amazing. I could not find my voice I saw the truck grow near. I could not feel my limbs enough to run at her.

I could not cover my ears before the truck hit Ms. Pembrooke and I heard the crack!-of her neck breaking on impact and forced into the air.

I could not cover my eyes as she landed only inches from my feet, eyes wide open, as blood slithered down the corner of her mouth and eyes.

I stared at her. Muting the screams that were now bursting from those who had witnessed such a horrible scene.

I looked in her eyes. They were black and shiny and black smoke floated out of her mouth. For a moment she looked like just that. A creature of darkness. But after I blinked the darkness was gone and I saw the woman lying in a broken pile of bones and skin.

I remembered something just then as I looked at her.

She looked at me.

Right before the truck hit her. It was like she sensed me. Her eyes gazed deeply into mine from where she was standing she had to be at least ten yards away from me.

But she looked. Time slowed around us and her mouth fell open in a little o, her eyes began to widen as she started to turn away.

Then it hit her.

When my mind seemed to finally process what happened, I felt my legs give away and a different blackness blanketed my vision.

I fainted.


“Wake up!” I heard, the voice sounded far away. “Wake up, Girl!” this time the words were hissed at me and she sounded louder and closer.

My eyes reluctantly opened and I saw a cat standing over me. When my eyes where wide open the cat hissed and ran away.

I guessed that my eyes were still fuchsia and my glasses were gone.

So much for my disguise.

“Finally!” I heard her shout and I nearly jumped out of my skin when Ms. Pembrooke appeared as if from the air itself. “You have been out for quite some time, Girl.” she said smoking a translucent cigar and casually blowing out smoke as if it were not odd that we were talking.


“Ada. Please.”

I sigh.

“Okay. Ada.” I said, emphasizing her name in a way that unintentionally sounded rude. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you.”

She looks at me with that disdainful expression she had in my second vision.

She takes a long drag off of her cigar and blows it out again after a moment. “It wasn’t your fault.” she scoffs, “stupid Girl, what makes you think YOU could have stopped it!”

She seemed so much more pleasant in my visions.

“I saw it…before it happened.” I said slowly.

Her eyes grew wide for a second then, as if it meant nothing to her, she shrugged it off.

“That would explain why you were staring me down like a mad woman.” she said letting out a bitter laugh when she finished.

I looked at my surroundings: it was dark and I was lying on the walkway across from the Parliament; there were no passersby along the sidewalks; Big Ben read three thirty-five and I could feel my stiff legs again.

“How did I get here?”

“Why I carried you of course!” she said as if it were the stupidest question she had ever heard.

“Carried me? But you’re a ghost.”

She tossed her cigar into the river and glared at me.

“I don’t need you to tell me I’m dead, Girl.” she hissed. “I know perfectly well what happened to me.”

I saw her lower lip tremble and her eyes grew shiny with tears. “You couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

But I knew I could have.

I let her cry for awhile before I tried to talk to her again.

“I had a vision it was going to happen,” I said, “I knew what you looked like, what you were wearing, when it would happen, how it would happen… but I didn’t stop it.” I felt my own eyes well with tears and began to sob after I realized how terrible a person I must sound like.

Ada floated over to my pitifully slouched self and gently patted my back. Her hand was so cold it chilled my spine.

“Dear Girl, don’t ruin yourself over a stranger’s death-”

“It was my fault!” I shouted jumping to my feet. “I could have stop it! Why can’t you understand that!” I was screaming at her to the top of my lungs.

She looked at me with the blankest expression and almost out of nowhere she clopped me clean across my cheek.

“Selfish Girl!” she bellowed. “I die and you turn this on yourself as if you were the only one who was impacted by this? I am the one who is dead you STUPID Girl! I am the one who’s cats are going to starve to death!” It looked as if she had grown ten feet tall as she yelled at me. All the while the darkness circled around her and her eyes grew black and shiny.

Then suddenly she was back again.

She sighed as she shrunk back down to her average height.

“If you want to prove yourself so badly,” she whispered, “save someone else. In my place; save them the next time you have a vision.”

I was shocked at hearing this.

‘Did she really think it would happen again?’ I thought.

She stared at me expectantly.

“You will do it, girl,” she said darkly, “or I will NEVER forgive you.”

She glared at me once more before shaking her had and turning away from me to watch the clock.

I just realized that my dress was heavily soaked and wondered why no one- at least no one leaving- had bothered to carry me to dryer quarters. It had stopped raining and I was dreadfully cold. I would not stop shaking and I was sure I was so white I could be easily mistaken for a ghost myself.

I thought more about what Ada said; it didn’t seem unreasonable more so impossible. I did not know if I would ever have another one again any time soon. And if I did what it were not a premonition?

‘Oh! Listen to me wishing desperately for premonition!’ I thought, feeling so disgusted with myself I did not know what to do.

After a moment of thinking I clear my throat to get Ada’s attention.

She turned around to look at me, a hint of annoyance in her expression, she blinked her eyes wide at me as if to say “what do you want?”.

“W-what if I don’t have another vision?” I asked.

She stared blankly at me for what seemed like forever.

“Then I shall stick around until it happens.” she said simply.

“But…what if it never happens?” I persisted.

She smiled and said, “Then I think we shall have plenty of time to get to know each other…very well.”

I swallowed hard and continued to stare at that mischievous smile plastered on her face.

“I don’t suppose you will have second thoughts about this?” I asked warily

She shrugged as she scraped at her already spotless fingernails.

“Well it’s not like we made a blood pact!” I shouted. I was panicking. I was still unsure if anyone else could see her. “Did anyone see you carry me here?”

She looked up at me and grinned some more.

“No, Girl.” she said. “I cloaked us quite well enough that no one even noticed the unconscious fool dangling in my arms.”

I gritted my teeth.

I had taken her word for it but I was losing my patience when it came to her insulting me.

“Okay, fine.” I said

“What do you mean “fine”?” she said, she looked rather taken aback by my forward rudeness. “Did you think you had a choice? Stupid Girl, I have bound you to me with my request! You have no choice.”

My mouth dropped open in a large O. I could not believe what I was hearing.

“You…bound me…”

She smiled.

Her smiles were starting to look more and more wicked with every smirk.

“I am not leaving until you save someone,” she explained, “in place of my own demise.” she scoffed at me before she continued. “I think it would do you a lot of good…Stupid Girl.” the last two words she spat at me.

This woman was going to create hell for me if I did not have a premonition soon. I did not think I could live very long with her without first wanting to hang myself.

I swallowed the urge to cry again.

“How old are you, Girl?” she asked.


She smiled ingenuously

“Well aren’t you a young one.”

I nodded losing the desire to argue with her about whether or not I am considered “young”.

“Well then…what are we doing out here at nearly four in the morning?”she said. “I’m sure your parents are frantic with worry! Come along!- let us be off.”

She linked her arm together with mine and pulled me along with our arms connected. I reluctantly let her drag me home while she was humming a Japanese tune I was unfamiliar with.

“By the way,” she said between hums, “did you know your irises are pink?”