Under the Black Moon

It was raining on the day Leah chose to go see her Grandmother's house for the last time before it was sold. After her Grandmother had died, it was decided by the family to sell the house and split the money. No one cared what happened to the place. Most found it creepy. An old woman, living alone in the mountains, with a graveyard in her garden, who mostly kept to herself. Most thought Grandmother had gone mad, staying up there, refusing to travel down to the coast to live in the suburbs around Boston with her son.

In the end, it hadn't been up to her, and her last days had been spent in the cold, white rooms of one of Boston's major hospitals. Leah hadn't gone to see her. Of course, she regretted it now, but at the time, the idea of going to see her Grandmother after nearly a decade being out of touch was too nerve-wracking for her to handle. Now, she wouldn't get a chance.

Leah stood silently in the graveyard in back of the house that had always creeped out her cousins when she was little. Her grandmother had wanted to be buried out here, but it had been decided that it would be easier to bury her closer to the rest of her family. The coat Leah had wrapped around her shoulders was soaked through, as she stared down at the ground in front of her.

Maybe some part of her had thought that coming here would make her feel better about her distance from her grandmother. Maybe some guilty piece of her soul had thought she might find some peace here. If so, that part of her had been entirely wrong. Leah wanted to crawl out of her skin. She was restless, gaze flitting about, hoping to find something that would spark a memory, bring back some sort of emotion, a way for her to find closure.

Perhaps it was that desperation that led Leah to notice the flower, growing amongst the graves in the back of the garden. Hiking up her skirts so that she could walk easier, Leah picked her way forward, weaving through the headstones, until she reached the spot where a solitary purple lily was growing. Something about that lily made her ever so lonely, made her miss her girlfriend back in Danvers, her father and mother and everyone else she'd left in the dark about why she felt the need to come here alone.

Bending down, Leah closed her fingers around the base of the bloom, intending to pluck it, but then quickly pulled away as an unexpected shiver shot through her. She'd been here before. Not just at her Grandmother's house, but in this very spot, between two graves, reaching down to pluck a purple lily from its stem. Only that time she had actually done it, plucked the flower from its stem, twirling it in her finger. How had she forgotten about that horrible night?

Leah stumbled back, away from the flower, all of the memories flooding back to her. She felt sick. She needed to get out of here. Please, she thought, let me be able to see a way out of here. She left the graves behind quickly, leaving through the gap in the stone wall and breaking into a run as she made for the house. There was no one else here. She was alone, truly alone, with the memories and the fear and the sudden realization that this place had much more buried than just old bones.

Inside the house, she poured herself a cup of tea, sat down on the sofa, shaking uncontrollably, and let herself get lost in the twisted memories she'd tried so hard to force down.

Leah had been nine years old the last time she'd seen her grandmother. Her mother and father were both traveling that week, for work, so she'd been sent to stay with her father's mother until they got back.

She and her grandmother had played puzzles together, and sung songs each night, accompanied by her Granny's old banjo. Grandmother baked cookies with her, and they ate them still warm from the oven, not caring about the melted chocolate chips getting all over their hands. She had warm soup, and Granny's famous mac and cheese, and she couldn't have been happier. At least, that was what she'd remembered at first. Now, as she tried not to spill her tea while her hands shook violently, she remembered other things. Darker things.