Abbot Grove

Stained

Nearly one hundred years ago from today, Ethel at sixteen was working a twelve hour day at the local factory in Abbot Grove, where she was making leather boots. She was particularly happy that day because that very night she was to elope with her fiancé far away from the factory, never again would her hands be sore and blistered.

Ethel was relaxed, the gentle thud of machinery soothing to the ear. In a happy daydream, she leaned forward when some strands of her delicate blond hair got caught in the machine and dragged her head with it. The cutting blade inches from her face. The dagger-like point pierced her tender skin. She screamed out in agony and pulled away causing the blade to slice through her skin from the corner of her mouth up to the edge of her cheekbone. The machine clogged and screeched to a halt, the blade stood still, blood dripping from its tip. Pale horror struck faces turned to face her. They came rushing up to her but Ethel stood up and ran as fast as she could back to her house, her pale blond hair now stained deep red and one hand gripping her slit cheek in place.

She rushed up to her bedroom, took out a needle and thread and rapidly stitched up the gaping hole on the side of her face, holding back her longing to scream at the top of her lungs. "Ethel darling, are you up there?" Edward (Ethel's fiancé) shouted.

He can't see my face like this.

"Edward I... I..."

Ethel looked out the window to find Edward standing on the garden fence below. However, when he saw her bloodstained stitched up face he yelled out and fell back onto the railway line behind the garden.

"Edward!" Ethel screamed ignoring the raging pain throbbing in her cheek. He wasn't moving, just lying there like a corpse. He must have hit his head. 

Just then Ethel thought she heard the distant noise of a train. It was getting louder and clearer. She had no time to do anything and before she knew it the train to Miller Hill came flying past her house not stopping for Edward.

Ethel stood in horror as she stared down at her beloved fiancé. Dead. Her cry echoed through the house and her stitches ripped open. she dragged down the curtains in rage and they fell out the window taking her with them. The only sounds to be heard were the hinges of the window screeching and the shutters banging against the wall, the muffled whispers of the wind looming over the house, Ethel's red-stained hair blowing in the wind.