The Haunting of Elsinore Manor

▪︎ Epilogue ▪︎

I'm playing in the red room. I know I won't see the boy in here. His mum told him this room was off limits.

I pull a box out of the closet. It's all dusty, but I want to see what's inside. It might be more old toys. Like the horses.

Nope, no toys. It's just an old journal and a bunch of yellowed envelopes. Each envelope is stamped with faded red block letters: RETURN TO SENDER.

Who is "William Bard"? All the envelopes have his name on them.

The boy might know. His name was Gilbert Bard. But I haven't talked to him since the night I told him to go away. I got in trouble because of him. My mum thought I put back all those old things she had packed away, like the teapot. But I never touched them.

She feels bad for yelling at me. She said she's been "stressed." She said sorry and hugged me really tight. She's been sad ever since dad went away. We moved here because she said we needed a fresh start.

I'm allowed to play in the red room again.

The tall, broken clock from the staircase stands in the corner. Mum says maybe she can find someone to fix it.

I can hear mum's radio playing downstairs in the kitchen. A voice announces the latest hit from ABBA, and "The Name of the Game" comes on. Mum likes this song.

I open the journal and thumb through the pages. Every entry is signed "Ophelia." Except the last one. That entry just stops. There's a smudge in the ink.

There's a newspaper in the box, too. It smells funny. Like my old attic. I see pictures of Gilbert, his brother, his sister, and his mum on the front page. There's a picture of this house in the background. The headline reads: "Tragedy at Elsinore Manor."

There are some words that are too hard for me, but I can read enough of the article to understand what it's about. Gilbert and his family died in this house. His uncle killed them. It happened on the 31st of October, 1907. Seventy years ago today.

I shiver. Gilbert had told me that his sister said their uncle was a bad man. Guess she was right.

My mum pokes her head into the room. She's wearing her favorite Beatles T-shirt. She smiles at me. "Lunch time, Chester," she says. 

"Okay," I say. I get up, dusting off my hands on my corduroys.

"What have you there?" my mum asks.

"Old stuff," I say. I hand her the newspaper and the envelopes.

"Letters," she says, going through the pile. "Very old letters. All from a Gertrude Bard, at this address, to a William Bard. All unopened. 'Return to sender'."

She sets the envelopes aside and begins skimming the newspaper.

"Tragedy at Elsinore Manor," she reads. "Widow Gertrude Bard and her three children…"

My mum trails off. Her eyes go wide as she reads the words on the page. "Bloody hell," she murmurs. Her face turns white. "Chester...were you reading this?"

"Yes," I say. I stare up at her. Maybe now she'll believe me. "I told you this house was haunted."

*