“Ok Emily, I trust your Mother has told you of the events to come?” The doctor enquired, I took a moment to comprehend and understand what he said, and replied in an eager and patience less tone.
“Yes, I know everything, I just want vision,” Dr.Burkala paused for a moment. I heard the rustle of sheets of paper and eventually he stopped, and read the following aloud:
‘The eyes you will be receiving during this operation are those of your sisters, who – with the consent of your mother and father - offered herself and her body to the cause of scientific research. Success is not always assured during these operations, and your health is not of our liability, before, during or after the procedure’
“Your mother will have to sign this on your behalf, and we can crack on with the operation.” The doctor cosily told me.
“Here, here, and here.” The doctor told my mother, passing her a pen. I heard the pen gliding across the paper, and with each swoop I felt nearer to vision - my dream.
My Mother was silent, obviously recounting the hazy events of Sophie’s death, I heard her sniffle, and the pen scratch the paper for the third time.
“Ok Emily, I’ll bring the nurse through and she’ll help you onto the bed, and we’ll get going.” The doctor told me, as I heard the door behind me swing open, and felt the nurse lift me from my chair. She walked me six paces to my left; I heard the curtain rain clank behind me, she helped me into my robe, and laid me down onto the smooth bed. For a while, I lay there – thinking. Thinking of the sister I never knew, the sister I now loved unconditionally for the gift she was unconsciously bestowing upon me – Sight.
Out of the door in which I came and down a long, winding corridor. I felt a heavy jolt through the operating theatre doors, and we halted. My mouth dry, and my hands, drenched in sweat, I lay nervously in anxiety and elation of what was to come.
“This will only prick for a second, Emily.” The tender nurse explained, as she punctured a needle through my moist skin.
“You’ll start to feel dizzy, and then you’ll be off to sleep, you’ll be able to see after all of this, Emily.” Butterflies filled my stomach, as I felt a surge of numbness creep up my arm.
CHAPTER 3
I awoke, with my Mother’s vernal hand clenched tightly upon my own. It was still dark. I felt my heart in my throat as I drew my hand to my face to feel a light, cotton bandage ravelled around my eyes. I felt a hand, the hand of Dr.Burkala’s gliding up through my hair, and onto the bandage.
He rolled the bandage off of my head, and with each circular motion I felt an ominous glow seep through the . It was off; a massive array of light bombarded my eyes. I blinked heavily, to see the tearful face of my Mother before me. Beauty was merely elementary to what I saw before me. The room, the doctor, myself. I looked now, down upon my turquoise robe, and pulled my feeble, pale white hands into my wonderful line of sight. I looked over to my mother’s beautiful face.
“Thank you, Thank you so much!” I cried, as I felt a cool, salty tear drop down my cheek. Exhausted, I laid my head back onto the white, cotton pillow and took a calm moment to reflect upon this gift, bestowed upon me.
Before I knew it, I was sat, comfortably, in my Mother’s car, waiting anxiously to gaze upon the house described to me so beautifully well.
“Your father said he’ll give you a tour of the village; when you get in. He knows the area well, he used to live there y’know.” My mother spoke, happily. I looked over to her, slouched elegantly in her long, white, frilled linen dress; with her hands, perched gently upon the leather coated steering wheel.
I glued my face to the window, gazing readily out, and admired the scenery, the landscape, the artistry. It was only now that I fully recognised the beautiful pure nature of nature itself. I saw before me, winding valleys, scattered leaves and elegantly dancing trees. The car eventually pulled up beside our house. I withdrew myself confidently from the passenger’s seat, to see a rather large, slim faced and bearded man with dark long hair - casually dressed – staring gleefully towards me, on the porch balcony. I knew it was my dad. I sprinted into his arms, repeating joyously;
“I can see Dad! I can really see!”
“I know dear, I know. So how about that tour you’ve so patiently waited for, aye?” My father squeezed me tightly in his arms.
“First, I want to see our garden!” I heartily replied. Alone, I made my way through the house and into the garden. I stood at the back door, astonished. Flowers blossomed with unimaginable colour, trees danced in the wind, and grass grew lushly upon the stretch of land before me. Though, beautiful as it was, it laid barren. Apart from a large, empty stable barn to the back of the garden, I could only just make it out through the vast leaves of the trees scattered before it. I started making my way towards it in curiosity.
CHAPTER 4
“Emily!” My Father cried from within the house.
“Come on, you don’t want to be late, the sweet store will be shut!” I pulled my eyes from the barn and made my way back through to the front of the house.
He took me by the hand, and led me down the path into the village square.
We went, hand in hand around the village square. Through sneaky alleyways, and over dew sparkling meadows, until we came to a halt - close to the edge of town. We stood upon a large field; facing toward a small, aphetic shack, and to the left of us sat a grand, weary graveyard. The grass seemed to become browner, and darker, the closer the shack it came, and a shroud of dense, polluted fog organised itself in an almost human spectrum surrounding the shack. I could just make out, through my primarily squinted eyes; the figure of an old and frail woman standing inanimately on her door step, facing into the dark cosmos. My father turned towards me, perch on one knee and, as though he was whispering, told me.
“That there, what you see before you, is the house belonging to the witch-doctor. Possessed by an anti-ageing divine spirit; she is able to utilize godly powers. She specialises in devil worshipping and otherworldly experiences. Promise me; promise me Emily, you will never go near that house, promise me” I glanced over to the house once more, pulling my eyes from my father’s.
“Ok dad.” I sighed. He pulled himself from the ground and we continued in the opposite direction toward the graveyard.
“Time to meet your sister,” My father said, almost artificially.
“Really?” I cried, once again gripping tightly my father’s hand. He didn’t reply, he only walked me towards the graveyard, surrounded magnificently by large aesculus trees, and neatly arranged, small potted plants. My Father creaked the gate open, and led me through the winding graves, onto a small plot of land. The land had upon it a moderately sized, gravestone reading:
In memory of Sophie Chelvase.
Who was murdered age seven, upon this very Texas plain.
Loved, and never forgotten.
I knelt upon the grass before me and felt my eyes swell with tears for a sister I never knew.
“How?” I cried; looking up at my Father.
He simply placed his hand upon my shoulder, and looked towards the grave. I burst into tears, and fell into my Father’s arms, mortified by the thought of what Sophie had experienced.
“Come on dear, let’s go.” I Father sympathetically muttered. He grabbed my hand tightly and lead me back through the graveyard, and back through the wooden slatted gate. We walked solemnly into the town centre, where my Father’s mood quickly changed.
We stopped outside a terraced, thatched cottage general store, surrounded by pretty potted roses. “Now, let’s try the sweets, aye?” My dad suggested, with a brimming smile on his face. He slowly walked me in.
All around me I paid witness to mountains upon mountains of sugary treats, all around me, lay colours of which I never imagined possible. My Father ran gleefully straight to the counter, where awaited a young, almost teenage woman: Waiting to fulfil my Fathers elementary wishes. My father dug his hand deep into his suede pocket, to reveal a fifty dollar bill, slammed it down upon the table, and told the shocked woman behind the counter;
“Thirty dollars, of anything, and twenty of whatever it is my daughter wants.” I was still stood speechless on the entrance mat, gasping in astonishment. I made my way to the counter, looked high above the woman, and pointed.
“Those,” I cried, pointing toward a large box of strawberry cables on the top shelf. She gathered our sweets while my father stood, fidgeting, awaiting the sweets he’d splashed out for so willingly. Finally, after frantically collecting and weighing various sugary treats, she handed us a huge bag, filled to the brim. We made our way home, a different way to the way we came, scoffing hastily the sweets we had just purchased. For the third time I found myself making my way up the beautiful pathway to my old, rustic home.
“To bed now, Emily” My Father, intoxicatingly said. I tutted.
“Ok.” I bluntly replied, as I made my way up the stairs and into my bed, already half filled by Basil. I undressed myself, for the first time and got myself into bed. I knelt upon my bed, and gazed through my misty window. Thoughts filled my mind, of my sister, and her death, I felt an urge to wander back to her grave, an almost alien urge. I blinked heavily, trying to remove the urge from myself. I wondered, a feeling of curiosity consumed me. I pulled myself from the window, and forced my eyelids shut, and with that, drifted willingly off into the darkness.
CHAPTER 5
I felt a hand grip my throat, I shook, and I ran. Along a meadow I sprinted with intent away from my home... Pointless.
“You little slut!” The young man screamed. I felt my body pulling itself away, but to where?
Too late. I felt the pull of my blouse from my body. He slapped me, and dragged me fiercely back, into a small, isolated barn. He slapped me again. I cried.
“You will learn!” He shouted again, ripping my top from me, revealing my shivering flesh. I felt his hands rummage up my stomach and onto my breasts. I screamed in discontent, and tried to fall to my knees. He pulled my skirt from me and violated me. I shook, and shook, in a desperate attempt to break free. There was no use. Yet another clenched fist threw itself at my body, I vomited, as I felt a foreign object penetrate me. He pulled my feeble hands to himself and tied them, then the other end to the roof. I hung. I hung by my hands from the ceiling, two feet from the floor; as I felt this animal brutalize me. He stopped. Silence. I hung, loosely. Until I felt the sharp sting of a blade slice my windpipe. I tried to scream, only to conjure blood from my inners. Nothing more.
I felt my mother’s caring hands grasping my arms, and shaking me gently. I opened my fluttering eyes, to see a tear drop cascaded down my mother’s face.
“You were shaking,” My Mother cried.
“A horrible, horrible nightmare,” I replied.
“Almost real.”
My Mother clasped me tightly to her bosom, I explained my dreamful ordeal to my mother.
“Its o.k. dear, go back to sleep. It was just a dream.” my dad was staring, bewildered from my door. I fell back into my pillow, and felt my mother’s hand caress my hair, as I fell back to sleep.
I slowly drifted back into reality, and was more alert than ever before. The door was still purged open, hanging slightly off its hinges from the night previous; from when my Father answered my unconscious screams of displeasure. I jumped from my bed, and opened the linen drapes, to be blinded by a stream of sunlight streaming through my window, I blinked heavily, and walked slowly towards my wardrobe, opening it to reveal a huge array of colourful, and pretty garments. I scanned the contents heartily, to find a small, pink dress from the far left of the wardrobe. I removed it and dressed myself. My mind still focused on what I referred to as my ‘dream’, I couldn’t help but be tempted to visit Sophie’s grave yet again, and I had a slight feeling that my dreams bear some resemblance to her. What if she was in fact the girl in my dream, what if that was how she was murdered? I slumped back onto my bed, bearing the thoughts of Sophie’s death, it couldn’t be true. I had to find out for myself.
I made my way confidently down the corridor towards the oaken spiral staircase, I heard whispers from the kitchen below me as I made my way down, I heard my name being mentioned occasionally as I made my way toward the kitchen, and as I pushed the door to, the room momentarily fell silent.
“Morning Emily, how are you feeling?” my Father said as the silence was broken.
“Anxious,” I bluntly replied. “How was it you said Sophie died?” I demanded, as I made my way over to an invited bowl of sugared porridge. I sat down on the opposite end of the table of my Father, peering along it towards him and my Mother; I felt the sun warming my neck through the window behind me.
“Emily, you know you’re Fath-” My Mother was interrupted.
“It doesn’t concern you!” My Father aggressively shouted, staring directly towards me. My Father seemed slightly taken aback by my questioning and stern in his refrain. I slumped back into my bowl of porridge.
CHAPTER 6
A figure of a long black haired man appeared before me, holding a knife towards me. I blinked – to find myself back in my kitchen, staring down at my empty bowl. I gasped, I daren’t say anything to my parents, instead I made my way toward the sink, placed my bowl effortlessly beside the draining board and walked out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” My Mother pleaded as I stepped through the archway.
“To clear my head” I falsely pleaded in return, knowing fully I was going back to Sophie’s grave.
“Don’t be long” She cried, as I pulled my shoes over my cotton socks.
As I shut the door behind myself I sprinted through the warm humid haze and through the town centre, I knew the way, I couldn’t forget it. As I ran my mind filled itself of thoughts, impossible thoughts; why wouldn’t my Father tell me? What was he hiding from me? I had to find out, I would find out.
I found myself once again standing through the narrow under path gazing upon warm, dew glazed field, I glimpsed toward the witch doctors shack as a thought became me: Maybe she could help me? By this point I cared little of what my Father expected of me. I peered closer and closer towards the darkened shack, I saw her; still standing almost thoughtlessly out of the door of her shack. My quickened pace shortly became a sprint as I endeavoured fully to reach the house, I finally came within the dingy cloud surrounding the shack, and turned to look behind me, then back again. The old lady was gone.
The door was closed and there was no sign of life with in the small house. I slowly walked towards the door and raised my hand to knock gently upon it – I felt a hand upon my shoulder, and as I turned to look it was the hand of a frail, old woman dressed almost elegantly in purple robes and petite ribbons. I looked up towards her face, to see that frighteningly, she had no eyes. I daren’t say a word of it.The skin on the face staring towards me sagged motionless, almost dead, and as she pulled her chapped, slim lips apart to speak I gasped -
“I-I-I’m sor-”
“It is o.k” She replied in a tender, caring voice, fitting that of a princess. “I sense you need my help?” She enquired, taking her hand from my shoulder and placing it by her side.
“Well. It’s my sister, Sophie”
“Sophie, we share the same name.” The woman replied, facing towards me, staring at me from her empty eye sockets.
“Sophie Chelvase.” I told her.
“Chelvase?!” The woman interrupted, the girl murdered not far from this very plain? She is dead” The woman interrupted.
“On this very plain?” I replied, anxiously.
“At the back of a young man’s house, her Fathers old house, your Father?” She asked.
“Yes, that makes perfect sense, he used to live here. In that house, he’s home now.” I replied. “But where? Where exactly did it happen, I dream of my sister’s death, have flashbacks, I see her being raped, I feel her. The old lady gasped, and turned away from me, looking over the field and towards the graveyard.
“I am weak,” She said. “I can take you to the barn in which she was killed, but not much further, you will find more there, maybe envision her killer.” She turned back towards me and placed took my hand in hers.
“For I am but a ghost, trapped within this realm of mortals, I too was killed as a young girl” She solemnly told me. “I chose to walk this earth as a soul, protecting the innocent. I can’t usually talk to the mortals, but you, you’re different. I feel a bond to you.” She placed a stone into her palm and placed my fingers onto it. “You will soon know your sister, I can sense it. Only in death do things seem clear.”
CHAPTER 7
“Close your eyes”
I felt a spiral of winds churning me, and found myself in a small barn, filled with hay, and ropes. An awful aroma of excrement filled the barn.
“I must go” I heard. As I turned to see the woman, a cloud of white, fluffy smoke stood in her place.
I saw her go, but still felt a presence in the room, I ran to the large oak door at the front of the barn. I pushed it open to reveal a glimpse of my garden; I went to walk through the door but felt a hand pull me back by my blouse.
I saw the figure of the killer in my dream before me, I blinked, to see the figure of my Father standing before me.
“NO!” I screamed, as he pushed me to the ground. I scuttled backwards on my backside.
“I knew you’d find out, one day.” He shuddered, twitching his neck and revealing from behind him a small, sharpened axe.
“You will share her fate” The figure told me. Walking towards me slowly.
He grabbed me by the throat; I straggled, and broke free. I ran – screaming – towards the house.
I made it inside, and sprinted into the front room, where my mother was sat knitting.
“What ever is wrong?” She cried, placing down her yarn. I watched out of the back window, my father walking in through the back door, still holding the blade.
“It’s dad! He killed Sophie! He’s trying to kill me!” I screamed, in complete disgust.
“Oh it’s ok dear, come here.” My Mother held out her arms and pulled me in tight towards her bosom, still sat on the sofa.
I heard my Father’s footsteps as he walked into the room. I tried to break free of my Mother’s arms, but she held on tight. I struggle for freedom.
I felt the axe penetrate deep into my back. As I regurgitated blood from my inners I felt my Mother push her fingers deep into my eye sockets, I watched my body fall limp to the floor. As my parents lifted it and left the room with it, I kept screaming, I watched my own body being mutilated, but felt no pain. I felt if anything, solemn. I embrace the moment, devastated, yet calm. And with that, I walked slowly toward the door, to where my parents took my body. I floated to the door, and before I could leave, a bright white cloud appeared before me. It vanished, to reveal the old lady with no eyes from before. She began to change, and within seconds, before me, appeared a young lady before me.
“Hello” She said, in the same voice as the old lady’s. “It’s me, your sister.”
