Lucy's Little Anger

Lucy's Little Anger Lucy's Little Anger

Status: Finished

Genre: Horror

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Horror

Summary

I want first to warn anyone thinking of reading this, it is not for those that have trouble sleeping after a scary film. This diary style short story is actually a kind of story essay plan. This could well be a fully fleshed out novel. What you see here in total, is about a third of the way through the full story. It is my first attempt at horror writing and it'd be cool if anyone more experienced in the field would drop me a comment and tell me what they think. All ideas and plot lines for the story HAVE NOT been divulged in this plan. Enjoy

Summary

I want first to warn anyone thinking of reading this, it is not for those that have trouble sleeping after a scary film. This diary style short story is actually a kind of story essay plan. This could well be a fully fleshed out novel. What you see here in total, is about a third of the way through the full story. It is my first attempt at horror writing and it'd be cool if anyone more experienced in the field would drop me a comment and tell me what they think. All ideas and plot lines for the story HAVE NOT been divulged in this plan. Enjoy

Content

Submitted: December 26, 2011

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Content

Submitted: December 26, 2011

A A A

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EXPERIENCES

We’re all used to ghostly activity. Always living in older houses than most people we became accustomed to certain encounters. You can’t see them but you can hear them, you can speak to them, they can communicate back depending on intensity of the spirit or how emotionally potent that spirit is. All the unspoken rules that everyone else hears and then wonders if we’re batshit crazy. Are you a believer? No? Well, thats because you’ve never had an experience before. Have just one experience and those unwritten rules suddenly become more solid. They suddenly make more sense are now something to be taken seriously. I sat down after a stimulating conversation about our recent experiences and thought I'd log them from the year 2001, when I was just twelve, up until now...

June 23rd 2012 - So we go to a house viewing, myself and my family but the agent isn’t there to show us around. What happened to him then?So we go on in and have a nose around ourselves, thinking he’ll be back soon....or something. Anyway we all get vibes when there’s a supernatural presence around but me more than anyone else. I have an affinity for it. I knew, despite how no evidence had yet cropped up, this house wanted to tell a terrible story. We wandered around for a while and irrefutable evidence of strong willed spirits started happening all around us. Yeah, we we’re used to spirits but this was the most intense and un-subtle experience any of us had had. Doors closing with conviction as though a hand had closed it with enough force for the latch to sound. Nearby footsteps, not a meter away but nothing to see. Yes, we were certainly not alone and these spirits were emotionally potent. I was waiting for the next phase. They were simply telling us they were there at this point. I just knew; communication was next. Most families would have fled by now but this one had wanted answers for their many experiences over the years. Terrified, we stayed. Mum had always said ‘they can’t hurt you’. A voice cropped up, young and male. Bodiless sound reverberated around the walls. The young spirit was called Timothy although it hadn’t told me that. I had a knack for knowing their names if they were present enough. Speaking loudly and clearly I said ‘Timothy? Tim? What’s going on here?’. I still hadn’t pinned down exactly where he was but the young boy simply said ‘it’s ok please don’t be frightened’. I closed my eyes, forced myself to be calm. This was absolutely magnificent and horrifying. I was communicating with the dead. All those sceptics, all those debates and discussions about what could be... They could all be settled here and now if those people could see this. Finally I and I alone knew the truth. Ghosts were real. I suppose we all knew all along but there was always a certain pessimism that told us our brains were simply playing tricks. ‘It’s very hard not to be frightened, Tim. You have to realise this is an exceptional scenario we find ourselves in. Something happened to you didn’t it? Your presence wouldn’t be this strong otherwise. Something serious.’

‘How do you know my name? Are you psychic or something?’

‘Maybe, I don’t know’. Silence. Where did he go? My family stood huddled on the other side of the living room separated from me, the Ghost Whisperer on the frontier of supernatural research and communication. We all stood petrified and amazed, paralysed with the unbelievable events that just occurred. Then, we left. The whole trip back was silent.

June 25th - I had to go back. It was incredible and mum and dad wanted nothing more to do with it. The mere utterance of any of what happened to us was slandered instantly, disregarded and swept into the annals of the family delusions. I went back and Tim unlocked the door for me. Terrified again. Can’t believe I was doing this...again. I sat down in the living room, leaning forward, irises wide in my eyes with a sense of alert and undoubtedly I couldn’t turn the lights on, or people would think there was a squatter here. Me and the spirit discussed many things. Things that perhaps, the realm of the dead wanted undisclosed since the very dawn of time. But Tim told me all. How everything worked. How there was no God, heaven or hell. Not even a purgatory or angels to come and pick you up. Ghosts were just dead souls that couldn’t find peace. The ones that were already at peace, Tim had no knowledge of and to him, that was a whole other level as alien to him as ghosts were to the normal man. He told me that if a ghost died in a house, that house would be its prison. Its world. To open the front door would be to step out into oblivion and fall into undeath. The true deletion of the soul and final step to non-existence. When people had ghostly encounters, the lonely souls were simply trying to reach out as, all they want is to get out from wherever they are trapped and see their loved ones at peace; on that whole other level of transcendence. Tim told me what hundreds of thousands of humans had attempted to figure out for hundreds of years, in the space of an hour. Finally he told me the even darker side of the truth. He told me that some people die with the strongest and most powerful hatred consuming their spirit. I was right with the whole emotions rule; it made them stronger. Perhaps I was psychic. Maybe that is why I was better at this than my family that simply had experiences to lean back on. Finally, Tim told that he had died and had accepted death. He told me everything in the hope that I could free other lonely souls and help them attain peace again. He didn’t sugar coat it though, it came with its dangers. I could be locked up in a mental home or all the different stories of the dead could overwhelm me one day and send me past the brink of insanity. In conclusion to his little lecture, he told me about his sister, Lucy, who was particularly full of rage. She had killed Tim and his parents while they were still alive. She only wanted them with her as ghosts. She missed them too much. Tim told me she had died in a bus crash outside of the house, so whilst inside, speaking to Tim, I knew she couldn’t come in. However, dying outside, she had much more free reign than Tim and could go almost anywhere she wanted. Tim warned me that myself and my family had stepped into her precious house and to her, it was trespassing. To her, we were hostile. Although, while we explored the potential new home, she couldn’t get in to stop us. It would have filled her with rage and now we were targets. Tim told me not to simply hide in the house with him with my family. It would simply make her more and more angry and in turn, more and more powerful. It would only endanger us and Tim. If he lost the house, he would be doomed to oblivion. What to do? I asked Tim that and he had no idea. Gingerly, I left Tim’s home seemingly alone to the untrained eye. I had to get back and tell my family because Tim made quite clear, we were in danger now and we could not fight this problem with guns or polite words. I had some research to be getting on with as even Tim, for all his knowledge on the supernatural, could not tell me how to stop his enraged sister.

September 26th - Lucy makes her presence known inside our own home. How on Earth did she get in? She must be even more powerful, more enraged to bend Tim’s rules on where spirits could tread. I was innocently on Facebook and Lucy’s name popped up on chat. With a profile picture of her mangled body from the bus crash. Jesus Christ. She could have spoken to me if she was this strong, but she’d rather mess with my head first. It’d been three months since I warned my family and they had calmed down and discarded it as just another one of my melodramatic experiences. It just frightened me more. They couldn’t afford to deny Lucy’s presence in the house. What if it made her angrier?

October 15th - Doors slam so hard the house shakes. She selects precious items of ours that she has observed us using regularly and crushes them remorselessly. They float up and wrinkle as a crisp packet would in a fire. She’s getting revenge for our trespassing in the most vindictive way. Mum and dad are starting to lose their mind; they can’t take much more of this. I have to figure something out soon.

October 25th - Lucy kills my sister, violently throwing her around the living room. Dad has a nervous breakdown and wants to go to bed but me and my mother both warn him it’s a nap he won’t get up from. I have to go back and speak to Tim about this or we’ll all die pretty soon. I get out to the car and start driving, wondering if she’s following me or mum and dad, who I sent in the opposite direction. I told them to go somewhere big, where Lucy could not break the rules. Somewhere like a museum or a leisure centre. I get back to Tim’s and we figure out that I should simply ask Lucy what will bring her peace.

October 26th - Whats left of my family sit in the living room and wait for Lucy’s next visit. Just me and Mum. She’s here again and Mum’s clothes are slowly pulled away from her as Lucy picks her up. ‘LUCY’ I shout, as mum is dropped to the floor. Sheer silence. No one had ever had the audacity or nerve to speak to her. My heart was racing and I was pumping so much adrenaline I could hardly move. I stringed up enough strength to speak ‘What can we do to bring you peace? There must be something’. Mum remained stationary on the floor, not wanting to provoke Lucy any further. The television flickered on. For a moment it was just static and white noise but Lucy was figuring out how to manipulate it as she had manipulated my laptop before. A blurred set of colours slid into one another forming a picture. It was that mangled picture of her from the news again. It shook as she tried to maintain the mirage. She then carved and scratched into the screen making a terrible noise as she did so. She screamed and shouted gibberish at us and the windows flung open. She had gone...at least for a while. We picked up the TV and held it under the light on the kitchen table. She’d carved a message for us. It said ‘What can you do?’.


© Copyright 2018 Nick Banks. All rights reserved.

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