Woken by Thunder

the night she died

I woke in the night and saw her on the landing at the top of the stairs, standing in the darkness with a stillness that seemed to slow everything down. Although she was just a silhouette, I knew it was Mrs. Hall; despite that she seemed so strangely tall, her head nearly touching the ceiling. Against the pull of fear, I pushed myself to get up and make my way to my parents' bedroom. I felt her watching me, but she did not move. At the landing, I edged sideways along the wall, reaching beside me for the handle of my parents' door. The silence and the shadows were broken by light and the noise of my baby sister crying, my parents yelling at each other. Mum noticed me in the doorway and shouted at me to get back to bed; I burst into tears and cried out that Mrs. Hall was on the stairs. Dad looked around the house but there was nobody there. It was only a dream they assured me. Next day Mrs. Hall was found hanging through the attic space at the top of her stairs, her smothered baby shrouded in a sheet. We were moved into her house a few months later. When I saw Mrs. Hall on the night that she died, it wasn't to be the last time I'd see her.

candle smoke

from a pumpkin smile:

darkened eyes