Time to Die

A thought occurred as she reached the unsecured front door. Dr Carter had said that Bert sometimes imagined his mother was still alive. What if her spirit still clung to the land? What if she was still here, imprisoned by the house which encompassed so much misery? The front door emitted a rusty screech as Je

The room dimmed as Bert’s elderly mother curled her arthritic fingers around the arms of the wooden chair and set it to a halt. The corners of her mouth turned downwards as she craned her head in Je

‘Get. Out. Of. My. House.’

Je

The woman’s eyes blazed at the mention of Bert’s name. ‘What do you want with him?’

Je

Bert’s mother relaxed into her rocker, setting it back in motion. ‘I’m waiting for Callum. He’ll be home soon. Bert’s in bed. He’s a sickly child.’

Je

‘I’m waiting for Callum.’

‘He’s waiting for you, Mrs Bishop. He’s been waiting a very long time. Don’t you want to go to him?’ Je

The woman’s face clouded over, the frailty of her soul laid bare. ‘I … I can’t leave the house.’

‘Yes you can. You don’t need it any more. Let it go. When you feel Callum’s presence, step up and take his hand. But you don’t need to stay here. There is so much more for you, if you can find the strength to leave.’

But she wouldn’t. At least not yet, and she returned her gaze to the fire as it hissed and spat orange sparks that went nowhere, delivering heat that could not be felt. Slowly Je

Every room door was ajar and she was relieved to see the loft hatch gaping open, its mouth an empty chasm as sharp-clawed rodents scurried overhead. Officers would have already searched the gloomy space, which meant she didn’t need to. The oppression in the house grew with every second that passed, until the derelict building took on a life of its own. I shouldn’t be here, she thought. Not only was she under a ceiling that may well give way, her presence was most unwelcome, and the birds that had swooped to attack her were now gathering outside.

Je

She turned on her heel and made her way to the hall, but the noise of the ravens suggested there were more than one or two waiting for her exit. She peered through the gap in the door, catching her breath as she caught sight of the black feathered sentries gathered on the fence. A horrifying sense of dread enveloped her as she realised she would have to pass them on her way out. Why didn’t I park the car nearer? she thought. If the birds attacked, they could do a lot of harm in the precious minutes it would take her to reach it. Tapping her fingers against her bottom lip, she formulated a plan. She picked up an empty milk bottle from the floor and pressed the central locking button through the gap in the door. A chorus of excited caws ensued as her car beeped in response, and they flapped and danced on the fence in preparation for their prey. They’ll rip me to shreds, Je

She returned to the kitchen, holding her breath as she slowly turned the handle of the back door. Relief flooded through her as it opened, and she tentatively slid out, tiptoeing through the undergrowth at the side of the house. The front of the house was black with ravens, their beady eyes focused on the front door. She flung the milk bottle, sending it rebounding on the front porch, startling the ravens long enough to race to her car. Soon she was safely inside, sending gravel shooting in her wake as she raced down the driveway for home.

Je