November 2019 #1
(Trying to speak to H for the first time in 6 months.)
Me: H? – H? Are you – please – I’m sorry – please… Just talk to me one last time, so I can try to make amends? Then you can hate me if you want. Oh gods please… just… speak to me one last time – please – I’m so sorry – please… please…
(There’s snow, at least I think it’s snow, I can see it cascading all around me like a soft mosaic against a greater darkness that hadn’t been there before. I’m cold – bone cold – and I don’t care – I can see a light and I turn to it.)
Me: (staggering) Please, will you … would you… I’m sorry… I don’t deserve – I know – I… I… H…?
(A door opens with a thump and I’m not sure which way is up and then H is there, grabbing hold of me like I’m a wayward parcel and almost shaking me for good measure.)
H: Girl? Dear god!
Me: (awkward, blinking) Are – are you okay?
H: Am I?! Christ!
H: (muttering) Fucking Christ, your lips are blue… (He drags me into the Stormhouse and finds quilts to stifle me under on the sofa by the stove.)
Me: How – h-how are you?
H: (furious) Don’t you do that…
H: Turn up half fucking dead and inquire after my health!
Me: I… I – I – i….
H: Girl… GIRL!
Me: Wh..? …. I’m here.
H: Don’t you dare fucking go!
Me: Go where? (I meant to get up to make coffee but he pulls me down and I don’t go anywhere)
H: (desperate) Please darlin’…
Me: Wherever you like… (I catch on to the fact that whilst I think I’m here, sitting on the sofa, talking sense, I mostly seem to be elsewhere half-passed out in a different place and talking utter insanity.) I’m still sorry…
H: Girl! Goddamn it! You can be sorry when you’re well.
Me: I am well?
H: Like hell!
Me: But… I’m fine? (And I am, physically, in the real world. Yet in the Stormlands I seem to be on my knees and unable to rise despite the fact H is hauling on my arm.)
H: You’re on the godamn floor!
Me: (swaying) Eh, can’t fall any further at least?
Me: I know you must hate me and I’m sorry – I am. I just – left. I… No one deserves that sort of desertion – you least of all. I didn’t mean to abandon you – I just… couldn’t hold on to anything. I’m so sorry…
H: (kneeling beside me) You needed to mourn.
Me: It wasn’t mourning – it was – it was just horrible. A void. Everything stopped including me and I couldn’t figure out how to start it again. It’s still a mess… such a mess…
H: (scooping me up and putting me back on the sofa then coughing) aaa – The Classics give us the form of catharsis but it isn’t always a balm…
Me: I – what did you? – ngh – I get that – never mind the bloody Classics right now – I’m just so sorry about so many things and…
H: Please sleep.
H: (wry look) I’d be happier.
H: You – darlin’, you…
Me: (I see an especially strong picture of the Storm House, of me half lying on the sofa and H sitting on the edge of the cushions, trying to tidy me under a quilt. I hadn’t realized how ill I looked in the Stormlands, all I’d noticed -idiot- was the fact my hair was black and curled and I was wearing my linen shift with the mother of pearl buttons…) Huh… that’s a thing… (I poke at the buttons. I seem to be very solidly in the Stormlands, possibly more so than I’ve ever been.) Will – will you stay with me?
H: Always. … No – no – no – girl! Dear fuck no…
(Between one moment and the next I seem to have been dunked in swamp water and left to drown and then pulled out at the last second and my lungs are somewhere between tar and obsidian and I want to cough up my stupid soul if only that would make breathing easier.)
Me: I – I – ah – I’m … ergh… I’m alright… (I choke and splutter against his waistcoat, scrabbling against his bony shoulders whilst he holds me too tight, far tighter than he ever has.)
H: Christ! You had no breath!
Me: (I don’t like anger, but I understand it. I understand it when it’s protective, when it’s scared , when it’s justified, when all it needs is a calming look or the smallest touch. H is angry because he can’t allow himself to be terrified.) Think I’m out of practice… An’ I might be a bit more… death touched than usual… what with… y’know… it’s… It’s gonna leave a mark…
H: (looks supremely unhappy) Will… do you want to stay?
Me: (unable to focus on anything) …Please?
H: Come along darlin…
Me: Will… would you… curl up with me? Just – stay…?
Source: Tales of Necromancy
18 Nov, 2019
November 2019 #1
Posted in Tales of Necromancy and tagged Real Poltergeist Facts 'Real Ghost Pictures' Supernatural Noices 'Real Ghost Stories' Paranormal encounter by cnkguy with no comments yet.