DEATH STRIKES US ALL, was Sydney’s thought as she laid in the gardens of her house thinking about her father’s death. One that had shattered her entire family like a mirror holding the bond between human beings themselves.
The pale ghosts appeared shortly after his passing and they were terrifying with their ominous appearances and jagged walks through the grandeur house which was slowly rotting to match it to their bodies or had they been entirely destroyed?
Her being the only one was not helpful either, at the tender age of twelve she had no idea of how to tackle this but conveying this to her now sorrow-filled mother was no use considering how she had been ignoring her presence for the entirety of the week, emotionless towards her pleads of the monstrous creatures which were hidden in every pocket of the house noticing everything, knowing everything with eyes which had once held light.
That’s when she saw the blessing of the entire situation, a way to set back everything to normalcy, to bring her father back. The ability to see the free-roamed people would lead to her father and how thrilled she was at this realization. Though this was a difficult task she didn’t care, the idea of bringing him back was now the fuel of her body as she set out to the attic determined to find him there after all that is were his soul was snatched from them forever and if there ever was a God she knew the right place to have a deal would be the place of death. But something was decidedly off about this situation.
Her mother had been crying all alone in her room but the thing which stuck out was the fact that she was holding a picture of her in her arms as she wept and wept, letting it be known through the echoes which were resulting from it. She could not understand it, why was she crying about her when she was right in front of her? She had ignored her all week. Left her isolated, weak, afraid in her own house unable to do anything.
That’s when everything clicked. The reason why she was ignored, the reason she was able to see the captivating creatures of soul, the reason why her mother wailed currently in front of her.
She had been dead all along.
Death had captured her and her hope of restoring any part of her family. It had left her here forever, etched into the very house of her upbringing with others alike.
She couldn’t handle that and ran, ran like a wild horse along her house, searching up and down for a sign that she was present, that she was well and alive and that everything was going to be alright. She found none of that.
She retreated back to the attic not wanting to accept this, in hope of finding her father. Tears ran down her cheek forming silver chains onto the floor as she slowly descended down the dark attic, breeding of death and horror, one rigid stone step at a time, praying she would find her father, hands open to hug her and transport them back to her mother, to life.
But there was nothing. Absolute silence enveloped the attic as she stood there with mouth wide open and eyes slowly losing their own glow of light. The trance of the ghosts pulled her as she slowly came to realize that there would be no saving for her father and maybe even her mother.
It was misery’s business from the beginning, a child trying to save her dead father in a house full of ghosts unknowing that she was one too.
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