She Who Was Never Meant to Leave

Photo Credit: Tom Baker

The church bell rings out - 

‘tis one o’clock in the morning. 

Every soul that walks in the day light has gone to bed,

all but one - 

a lady who cannot sleep. 

For the dark void of her home keeps her anxiety awake. 

Her mother and father left for the week,

leaving their eldest daughter in charge. 

In charge of her young brother and sister,

in charge of the house staff,

in charge of the house.

A large monstrosity that she and her family call home. 

It is a place she never felt safe,

even when the house buzzes alive during the daytime. 

Something was watching. 

She was sure of it. 

The sensation of someone’s eyes lingered upon her, 

yet, she could never catch what or who it was. 

So, she kept it to herself,

not daring to speak of it, 

for she would be deemed mad. 

Lying in bed as she listened to the sounds that whispered in the dark,

she hears the light snores from her brother’s room,

and a faint snore from the household manager who slept two floors below. 

The house creaks,

for it was built two hundred years ago - 

but there is a sound she cannot make out, a moan. 

Was it her sister?

No, it could not be. 

For she had never made such a sound, 

And it would be strange to start now. 

As she strains her ears to figure out what is happening in the dark,

it is then when she realizes the moaning has gotten extremely loud

and at her door. 

Annoyed and wanting it to stop,

our lady gets out of bed,

grabs her dressing gown and puts it on

as she walks to her bedroom door. 

The moment she places a hand on the doorknob the moan stops, 

thus leaving her confused yet relieved.

It is when she removes her hand 

when the moaning begins again. 

Frustrated and in need of much sleep,

she rips open the door to be greeted by no one. 

No one. 

Not a single soul stood before her. 

Yet, the moaning continued mere feet away,

as if it were escaping down the hall. 

As our lady walks out of her bedroom 

and into the hall,

a movement in the corner of her eye forces her to 

come face to face with an apparition that has stopped at the top of the hallway. 

A young lady just like herself,

yet, she floats instead of walking,

and is white just like January’s snowstorms. 

Frozen in fear, 

our lady is alarmed with what is in front of her. 

She dares not move - 

for she has no clue what the apparition might do to her. 

The apparition stares,

then motions her to follow, 

it’s as though she already knows our lady will do as she is told. 

Down several hallways,

descending the multiple stairs that adorn the monstrous home,

our lady continues to follow the apparition,

never uttering a single syllable. 

Out the back door,

into the garden,

the apparition continues to lead our lady further away. 

She does not notice,

nor seems to care,

she willingly follows,

even if she’s filled with dread and fear. 

The monstrous grand house is no longer in view, 

instead, all she sees is forest trees,

with orange and brown leaves drowning the forest floor. 

This soon leaves her mind

as she and the apparition move deeper into the forest. 

‘Tis about two o’clock now,

and our young lady is deep in the forest, 

following an apparition, 

away from the comfort of her bed. 

No one back at the house knows she is gone,

no one knows what has happened,

by morning, no one will even attempt to make a phone call.

As our young lady and apparition continue their journey,

we, dear readers, must sit and let it all play out. 

There is nothing we can do to save her,

for we never had such a power, 

but we must continue to watch,

letting them journey on. 

An hour has passed yet again,

our lady and the apparition have finally made it to the spot.

A private graveyard,

hidden deep in the forest behind the family home. 

Our lady looks about,

noticing names of relatives on gravestones.

Uncle Silas, buried beneath a large looming tree.

Aunt Brigitte, who died of the sweating sickness buried next to her child, age 1. 

As she continued to examine the headstones,

she sees the apparition pointing at one. 

It looks new - 

as if it’s only been a week, 

maybe two. 

Moving closer,

our young lady notices something that she was not expecting.

“Here lies our beloved daughter and sister: Mina LaVey” 

At a loss for words,

our lady stumbles and falls backwards,

it is her grave,

but, it couldn’t be. 

Could it?

As she gets up from the ground 

she sees pock marks and decay on her hands. 

Not just her hands,

they go up her arms, 

legs, 

she feels them on her face. 

Not wanting to believe what has happened,

she attempts to escape,

but, something stops her.

Hands. 

They have reached up from the ground,

from a different plot,

keeping her bound.

She tries to scream,

but this won’t help.

She can’t escape,

cause she was never allowed to leave in the first place. 

The apparition moves in front our young lady,

looks solemnly,

then pushes her deep below the forest floor,

where she will sleep for eternity 

amongst her long forgotten relatives.