All Hallows Eve (2)

 An old one but since it's Halloween... a Throwback. 

All Hallows Eve

It was All Hallows Eve
And she was all alone
Shadows surrounded her
One single candle burning
All around her
Voices whispered
Or so she thought

At All Hallows Eve
Her senses were
So much more
Alert it seemed
Did she hear footsteps
Or was that her
Imagination

O was All Hallows Eve
Already in the past
So she thought when suddenly
Something brushed by her skin
She cried out in fright
The voices buzzed in her head
Or did they?

On this All Hallows Eve
A young woman was
Scared to her death
And became as one
With the voices
She didn't want to understand
Voices of her own past

© KH

October is my favourite colour

October is my favourite colour

There is no better hue

The brown and yellow

Red and even golden

Are making my heart sing with joy

No matter whether the fierce wind 

Is blowing through my hair

Or the rain is beating

Against the windows

I am filled with happiness

October is my favourite colour

And my favourite weather too 

The hotness of summer gone

Sun shining on golden leaves

My heart skips a beat now that autumn has begun

© KH

Pandora’s Box

She was looking at the street from her balcony. The quietness almost grabbed her by the throat. She knew it was her fault somehow, she did this. She felt the tears well up in her eyes. She couldn’t help it. Across the street a little girl with a purple dress waved. She hesitated but waved back. The sun slowly rose, and she just stood there, looking down on the empty streets, watching the shadows between the houses change with the climbing of the sun. It never was this quiet before on a weekday. No cars in the streets, no people, just the chirping of the birds announcing that spring had sprung.

Her next-door neighbour came onto his balcony and started to talk to her. It startled her. She looked at him; his hair was grey, he had wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. Kind eyes, she thought. She had hardly ever talked to him. Never had the time before all this. Before she worked every day and, in the evenings, she went to the pub or a restaurant with friends. Now those were all closed. Her neighbour was still talking but she just couldn’t concentrate on a word he said. “I’m so sorry”, she just whispered as she walked back inside, leaving her neighbour talking to himself.

When it became dark, she turned on the tv to watch the news, only to see it had spread even more. All over the world people stayed home or were only allowed to do some quick grocery shopping where they would hoard leaving hardly anything for others. She sighed deeply and turned the tv off. She sat there in the dark thinking what to do. How hard she was thinking about it, there was nothing, she had done enough.

Over the next days and weeks, it became even worse. People were dying, more people were getting sick, and when it all would be over, there would be a huge economy crisis all over the world. She was looking outside where people on their balconies were starting to sing songs with each other. They didn’t give up hope, she thought. But she had, she had given up hope a long time ago. She looked to the corner where she had put the box, her box. The box which never should have been opened. But she had been too curious. She had to know what was in that box. She had opened the box one day, and all kinds of evil things flew out of it. It had scared her so that she wanted to put the lid back on, but she couldn’t. The last thing that flew out was hope. Outside the people were still singing, they also were applauding the nurses and doctors who were working so very hard to try and cure the sick.

Hope. The people had hope. They held on to hope. She took one more look at the box, which was so beautifully decorated, which made her want to open it more. She then turned around and closed the door and went onto her balcony too. She smiled at her next-door neighbour and started to sing and applaud with all her neighbours.

Hope, she said to herself. We still have hope.



© KH

Ode to my hair

I’m sorry I haven’t appreciated you enough
For years I have ignored you
Your beautiful colours have enlightened me
I just didn’t see it

I’m sorry I was too insecure to notice you
I changed my mind over and over
Darker mood, darker colours
I have tried it all

I’m sorry I started loving you when it was too late
Now that I’m older and wiser perhaps
Your colour is so gorgeous and always has been
But I realised that not in time

I’m sorry I complained a lot about you
You just didn’t deserve that
The truth is I have always loved you
I was just so unsure

I’m sorry is a little too late I know
Your beautiful chestnut, brown colour
Is fading into a silvery grey, but still shining
You are still beautiful, but I wish I had more time with the old you

© KH

Loud

Yes, I’m loud
I know because I have heard
People tell that to me all my life
Perhaps it is insecurity
But it could also be just who I am
A loud person, a loud voice
Why do I need to change
To make you feel more comfortable?

© KH

Heatwave

When I walk outside the heat feels like walking into an oven
It has never been this hot, the weather person says
We have to worry about the temperatures, they tell us
This is not normal, everyone is shouting
Meanwhile, people are gathering together at the airports
Summer holiday is coming and they need to take a plane!
Fly, fly away from here, to even hotter places
Take a plane, yes go fly, everyone and wonder
Wonder why the climate is going to kill us all

The Earth is being smothered,
Melting with hotter temperatures than ever
We are killing her with our cars, planes, campfires, fireworks, and other things
People don’t care about her, as long as they can do whatever
They want to do, by any means necessary
But when they Earth is complaining,
By an earthquake, or a heatwave
Then people say; oh, it will pass;
Climate change is fake news
But is it?

© KH

The psychologist

“I don’t feel like myself anymore” I said with a sigh. 

“What do you mean by that?” he looked over his paper whilst drafting a report, about me no doubt.
“I don’t think I have to explain that to a psychologist” I snapped.
He frowned which made him even more appealing “You are here for a reason, Abigail. One would think you’d want to get better”
I looked at him with my most disdained looking face. At least I thought it was. What did he think he was? I wasn’t here of my own choosing and he knew that!
“Perhaps we should end our session for today” he concluded “We have a group session later this afternoon, maybe you will be more cooperative there?”
He even sounded hopeful, the poor guy.
I nodded, sure if I ever wanted to get out of here I should cooperate.
I wasn’t an idiot even though I was put in a mental hospital.

I left Dr Strange’s office (as I secretly called him because of his goatee) and went to the general living room. Why had I ever agreed to let myself be admitted here, I was thinking as I was watching the people who were already there. It was an odd bunch, some claimed to be crazy to avoid prison, some were quite bonkers! And then there were the people who were asked to be examined, before a trial, to see if they were of sound mind when they committed their crime. I belonged to that last category.

---

“Well, who wants to go first” Dr Strange said with a smile on his face. “Come on, don’t be shy, we are all here for the same reason, to better ourselves”
“Why don’t you go first then” some pale faced yellow teeth girl said. Everyone started giggling.
“Well, Amy, that’s a nice thought” Dr Strange said with a straight face “but it’s not what we’re here for, now is it, so why don’t you start?”
Amy went from pale faced yellow teethed to pouting Amy as she was muttering that it wasn’t meant as such. But she started talking anyway.
I did my best not to look at Dr Strange. I didn’t want to talk, not just yet. I needed to plan my strategy first. Amy was whining about things not being fair in her life or whatever. Well, life isn’t fair. Deal with it. Amy was someone I didn’t like from the start, but I didn’t count her out just yet, perhaps I could use her later. I pretended to be very interested in the other women’s stories. I tried to listen to them, I did really! But my mind was wandering, trying to find ways to get the hell out of here.
“Abigail, it’s your turn” I suddenly heard Dr Strange say with his annoying smile.
I turned to look at him and said nothing, I just stared at him.
“You have to talk at some point” he said.
“I know but I’m not ready, not yet” I said trying to look at him with my most seductive look. It always helped with other men, so why not with him? I could always try.
“Hm” he cleared his throat “right then, I let you off the hook for once, but next session it is your turn, alright?”
“Okay” I whispered softly turning my eyes to the floor.

After the group session was over Susan, my room mate, came over to me.
“What the hell was all that?” she shouted almost.
“It worked didn’t it?”
“You won’t get away with it the next time”
“I know I have to figure something out for next time”
“What on earth have you done that he can’t know about? Isn’t it known already? Didn’t the police give your records to him?”
“Perhaps, but even they don’t know everything”
I saw Susan looking at me as if she didn’t believe me but oh if she only knew! If they all knew! Especially Dr Strange, if he knew…

---

When I woke up, I felt it, this would be the day. This would be the day it would happen. I had the one on one session at ten and I would tell him all. He wouldn’t believe me of course, no one would. I grinned at the prospect of this day. I went to have breakfast, listened to the other women but it didn’t really reach me what they were talking about. I was deep in my own thoughts.
When it was time for my session, I walked to Dr Strange’s office with the same calm state of mind as back then. I had no doubt in my mind that everything would be okay. I went into the office and Dr Strange sat there in his chair. He looked up when I walked in and smiled at me.

“Good morning Abigail, please have a seat” he said pointing at the chair facing him.
I sat in the comfy chair and looked if he had his recorder on and waited for him to start.
“Good” he said, “let’s see where we left things off last time” He went through his papers “Oh right, last time you were saying you didn’t feel like yourself anymore, but you didn’t clarify. Would you like to now?”
“Yes, I would, thank you Tom”
“What?” he looked at me and I could see the shock in his face.
“I said that I would like to clarify”
“Oh, erm I thought I heard something else, please continue”
“Of course, but can I first ask you a question and if you can will you answer it honestly?” I asked as polite as I could. I knew my tone of voice was completely different from the last couple of weeks since I’ve been here, and it had thrown him off.
“Erm it is highly irregular but if it is not to personal…”
“Tom” I said softly putting my hand on his knee “Haven’t you recognized me at all? Haven’t you missed me?”
“What?” there it was, the look in his eyes, the shock, and the sudden recognition. I had to be quick now.
“I said I would explain; well you have read my police record I presume?” I paused for effect “You have read that I have murdered an elderly couple for their money, but what you haven’t read is that I was pregnant at the time” Pause. “My then psychologist had seduced me which of course was highly frowned upon and I let him because he was a charmer that one” Another pause for effect “He begged me not to tell because he would be fired, well beg is not the word” I said while pretending to think “Threaten is the word, yes he threatened me not to tell, even when I told him I was with child, he told me to just get rid of it. Can you believe that, Tom? Who would do that? Can you imagine that? Such a wonderful, charming psychologist who takes advantage of women. I have been sitting there in his waiting room to try to talk to him, but he has done this with more women I can count! I don’t think all of them were pregnant though, but he turned out to be such a horrible person! So, when I tried to talk about it, he disappeared into thin air. Poof! I was desperate and found where his parents lived. They invited me in, listened to my story and his dad wanted to pay me a huge sum of money, but, and there’s a big but, I had to give them my child after it was born. He gave me some money in advance. Not a single word about their son, that it in fact was rape, taking advantage of a patient. Not sorry for our son, nothing like that. His dad gave me money, I said I needed to go to the toilet, and I went to the kitchen. I took a butcher knife and slid his mother’s throat. The dad came in, saw what I did and when I wanted to kill him with the knife, he kicked me in the stomach. The boy, it was a boy Tom, died instantly. I stabbed the dad a hundred times I think, bleeding myself, crying because of the dead child I at first didn’t even want but now was kicked to death by his grandfather” I felt a tear slid down my cheek. I knew I had to finish it and be quick about it.
“You see, Tom, I knew I shouldn’t have done what I’ve done. But you started it all, you have done things with me that you shouldn’t have. I’ve seen girls here that I know for a fact, by sitting in your waiting room, you have hurt as well. You are not a good person Tom. But I am going to prison, because I killed your parents who defended their horrible son and who wanted to take my son away from me and turn him into a monster as well. Who would have believed me? No one, I am alone and now, Tom, you are too. And that is what I meant with that I am not myself anymore, you have changed all that. Thanks to you I am here where I am today”

I stood up looking up at the shock still on his face. The recorder on the side table still recording.
“You killed my parents…” he whispered “it was you”
“Oh get over yourself” I said “you didn’t even recognize me! How many women have you victimized? Well? How many? If you didn’t even recognize me!”
During the conversation his face had turned from angry-red to purple and pale after he heard about his parents.
“My parents were all I had” he lowered his voice to a sinister tone.
“Yes well, we all have lost something we cared about, but I have to go to prison for it, so it seems”
“You… you are a despicable woman!” Dr Tom Sharp, his actual name,  stood up and put his hands around my throat.
“Help” I squealed. He was much stronger than I was, and I was kicking to try to get his hands away from me.
He pushed me against his desk with his hands still on my throat. My hands were searching frantically around his desk when they suddenly found what I was looking for. I lunged forward stabbing him in his eye with a letter opener. Immediately he let go of my throat and I could breathe again.
While he cried out in pain, I tried catching my breath and grabbed the recorder which was still recording and ran out of the office.
“Help” I cried when I ran away “Please help me! He tried to kill me!” I knew very well the marks on my throat were very visible. People were running towards me. “Oh my god what happened?” they said. Someone started screaming when Tom Sharp came running out of his office, the letter opener still in his eye.

---

Sipping my cup of tea in my own flat, on my own sofa, who would have thought that I would ever be here again after all that had happened. After the judge had heard the tape on the recorder I saved they were convinced that I had a nervous breakdown at the time, that I have had enough time in the mental hospital and that after what Tom had done to me that I could go home. Tom however wasn’t that lucky; more women came forward and he is the one doing time in prison for a very long time. I can’t help but smile at the very thought. Such a handsome man, what will they do to him there?

© KH

Socially Poor

Socially poor

In a world filled with strangers
Sitting next to each other
Without saying a word
Only taking a glimpse at one another

Indifference?
Reluctance?
Or just not knowing how to act
In a world which seems to get harder each day

You feel safe behind your screen
Your phone, your music playing in your ears
Having a conversation on social media
But not knowing how to have a real-life conversation any more

© KH

Mad World

What strange creatures people are!
Wanting to live a life on a planet
So green and blue, so full of life,
With animals so majestic.
Isn't it sad that man's expanding urge,
Is making that same planet
A place where animals and trees die,
And where mankind itself is
On the brink of disaster;
Or even of being annihilated?
Aren't we our own worst enemy?

© KH

October

I am outside looking at the October colours
The wind is howling around me
The air is crisp and cool, chilly even
The leaves whirl as I stand there
I’m taking it all in, the red and yellow
It takes my breath away
Dusk is approaching fast, fading away the colours
Darkness comforts me like a blanket
A soft rain is starting to fall, drip, drip on the leaves
The smell is amazing, that earthly sent
I stay outside, in the rain and the wind in the dark
Autumn, I have missed you like an old friend

© KH

Jessie

My heart is heavy

My soul is aching

My home isn't my home with her in it

It's an empty shell without her beautiful soul

The room is sounding hollow even

My whole body cries out for her

She was my best friend, my soulmate

My everything has passed away

We had almost 17 wonderful years together

I am heartbroken

When I come home she's not there to greet me

I have never felt so alone

She has touched my life in so many ways

Loyal, loving, sweet dog

I miss you so much, sweet Jessie




© KH

Summer

The summer air is stifling and hot
I find it hard to breathe
Swallows are soaring up in the sky
My eyes tearing as I look up watching
Bees are buzzing on the flowers
Leaves on trees rustle softly
It seems peaceful and yet
I cannot wait for the autumn winds to come

© KH

Family connections

The note she’d gotten simply had said; ‘Meet me at the manor’ 

She never even thought of not going. It probably was her associate who needed her assistance and she got into her car as quickly as possible to meet her.

When she got there, she opened the door and stepped into what seemed to be the grand hall. It was oak-panelled and high-windowed. She had a feeling she’d been here before but couldn’t place it. She looked around, it was simply beautiful. The Victorian features were astounding as if they were made yesterday. She closed the door behind her and called; ‘Hello? Someone here?’
It seemed as if there was nobody at home, nor has been for some time. The furniture was covered with sheets to protect it from collecting dust and when she walked on her footsteps sounded hollow in the empty hall.
A staircase spiralled upward onto a corridor with a stunning balustrade painted white with roses and leaves and even some angel or two. A gorgeous chandelier was hanging from the ceiling reflecting in a mirror on the wall. Still she heard no one in the whole house.

She started walking towards what seemed the main living room. ‘Miranda, are you in here?’ she called out. Her voice echoed into the hallway, it made her startle.
She looked around in the living room. Here the furniture was covered up as well and from what she could make out there was a lot of it. A chaise-longue, a coffee table, a sofa, no two, two chairs, a stool, a cabinet or two and a tea cabinet (she couldn’t help herself to look underneath the sheets, it was gorgeous with beautiful Royal Albert cups and saucers); and lots of paintings on the wall.
The next room was the dining room with a large dining table and chairs for 16 people to sit on. She shook her head, not liking to cook much herself she couldn’t imagine having to cook for 16 (or more) people!
In this room were also cabinets and paintings on the wall; but still no sign of Miranda.

She took her phone out of her coat pocket and looked if she had gotten a message. No signal, she saw. She made her way back to the front door and tried to open it. Perhaps the signal would be better outside.

‘Madame, you’re home early’ she heard a voice say behind her.

She turned around and saw a butler. Somehow he looked familiar, had she seen him before?

‘Pardon?’ she said still trying to open the front door.

‘I said’ the man repeated patiently, ‘Madame is back early’

‘Back from where?’ she smiled wriggling at the doorknob.

‘Back from your holiday of course’ he smiled ‘Where are your suitcases? Oh never mind I’ll have Luke take them upstairs for you. I’m sorry we’re not ready yet, Madame’ he continued. ‘The sheets are still on the furniture and the girls haven’t cleaned yet but don’t worry, Madame, it will be done in no time’

‘I’m sure it will’ she smiled not sure what to do.

He took her by her elbow and led her to the stairs. She saw him shaking his head.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know what the fashion in Spain is these days’ he sighed ‘but if you don’t mind me saying so, Madame, I like your normal clothes much better’.

‘My … normal clothes’ she must have looked like she was totally confused (which she was of course) because he gave a small pinch in her elbow and smiled.

‘Never mind, Madame, your back now, that’s all that matters. You always need a few days after your holiday. Really, there have been years that you didn’t even know my name’ he laughed at his own joke.

She looked at him in shock.

‘Oh dear’ he said. ‘This is one of those years I gather’

She nodded; ‘I’m sorry, I’m so confused’.

‘Bertram, Madame, and it really doesn’t matter. Here, go lie down on your bed.’ He took the sheet of the bed and took off her shoes ‘you give me those hideous shoes’ his nose cringed when he took her loafers, ‘Please, you go to sleep, I’ll send Janine to you when it’s time for diner so she can help you dress’

‘Thank you Bertram’ she whispered.

When he closed the door and she heard him walking away, she jumped up from the bed and took her phone out again. This time she had one bar. She quickly dialled Miranda’s number.

‘Hello Miranda Jones of Broadhurst and Jones agency speaking, how may I help you?’

‘Oh thank god’ she almost cried ‘Miranda!’

‘Jeanne? Where on earth are you?’

‘I don’t know! I think I’ve gone mad. I got a note this morning to come to the manor and I thought it was from you so I went and no one was here only a butler who is calling me ‘Madame’ and is telling me I’m confused and need to lie down and take a nap and that I’ve been on holiday’

‘Wow, slow down, you what, which manor?’ Miranda asked.

‘The one you were going to put on the market today’ she said.

‘Didn’t I tell you that they pulled it out?’

‘You mean the owner doesn’t want to sell after all?’

‘I guess not, but are you okay? Do I need to send out a rescue party?’

All of a sudden there was a knock on the door; ‘Madame, are you awake? I’ve come to dress you for diner’

‘Hold off for now’ she said quietly ‘I’ll call you back later’

She hung up the phone and put it away in the nightstand.

‘Come in’ she said louder.

‘Welcome back Madame’ Janine said walking in, ‘I hope you’ve had a lovely holiday?’

‘Hm’ she nodded vaguely.

Janine walked into the adjoining room which turned out to be a walk-in closet and came back with a lovely evening gown in soft pink.

‘Isn’t that a bit formal for just diner?’ she dared to ask.

Janine looked up, surprised; ‘Oh no Madame, you always dress for diner. Mr. Broadhurst is already downstairs’

‘Mr. Broadhurst?’ she asked in shock almost. She was never married, not a boyfriend even.

‘Oh Madame, it’s really bad this time around. Why go on holiday if you come back like this at all I wonder’ Janine shook her head.

When she was dressed and Janine had done something marvellous with her hair, she looked in the standing mirror and couldn’t believe her eyes.

‘Oh my…’ she said.

‘Yes.’ Janine sighed. ‘Madame is such a beautiful woman’

‘Thank you’ she said with a blush which made Janine look puzzled.


They both walked downstairs into the dining room where the table was set and candles were lit. A man at the head of the table was reading a newspaper and smoking a cigarette. When she walked in the room he looked up, folded his paper and said; ‘Hello darling, you look marvellous. Come and sit down, I’m famished’.

Bertram took a step forward and whispered something in his ear. He looked up at her and said; ‘Oh poor pumpkin, what do I hear? Is it particularly bad this year returning from Spain? You didn’t catch a virus or something, now did you?’

She shook her head and went to sit down. He took her hand and kissed it.
‘I’m glad those dreadful holidays are over. Back to ordinary life. Did you know that Aunt Maud had plans to sell this house from under us whilst we were abroad, hm?’

‘No I didn’t’ she whispered.

‘Well, as soon as I heard I put a hold on that, she can’t do that. That tough old broad is living in a nursing home for heaven’s sake! She may have lived here but now we do’

Bertram came in with diner and the man who was supposed to be her husband was quiet for some time, eating. Bertram bent over to whisper in her ear; ‘His name is Malcom, no he’s not a Broadhurst, you are and you’ve been married for 10 years. This is your house, your property’

‘What Bertram?’ Malcom asked.

‘Nothing sir, just some household things’

‘Ah, right, well, my dear you must eat’

She ate, even though she wasn’t really hungry. She felt ill really. Why couldn’t she remember that was her husband, and this was her home? She had been Jeanne Broadhurst from London for years and all of a sudden she walks in this mansion and she is someone completely different. How, why…? It’s just not possible.

After diner Malcom got up and said he was tired and was going to bed early. By the look of her bedroom they had two separate rooms so he must have his own. He kissed her on the forehead and wished her a goodnight. The servants cleared the table and she picked up the newspaper to immediately drop it again.

‘Bertram’ she asked with a tremble in her voice.

‘Yes Madame’.

‘Is this today’s paper?’

‘Yes Madame, it is’

The date read September 2th 1920.

She slowly got up from her seat and walked in a calm manner to the stairs where she got to her bedroom to put on her own clothes and coat. She opened the nightstand and got her phone out. Softly to make no noise she walked down the stairs again unto the grand hall. She turned the doorknob and the front door opened. Quickly but quietly she walked out and closed the door behind her. Once outside she ran to where she thought she had left her car. It was still there. The keys were in her pocket and she trembled so hard that she had trouble opening the car door. She got into her car, and drove off.

Halfway back to her home she called Miranda.

‘Well you’re calling back late’ Miranda answered her phone.

‘Sorry, but if I tell you what happened you won’t believe me’

‘I’m still up so come on over’

She drove straight to Miranda’s house and once inside she started to tremble so hard that she thought she couldn’t stop. She talked and talked and when she was done Miranda, who had been searching online for the family history of Broadhurst Manor, showed her a picture. It was as if she was looking at a picture of herself. In the same pink dress as she had worn that night, Malcom at her side, even Bertram and Janine in the background. An elderly woman in a chair was in the picture too.

‘Aunt Maud’ she said.

‘Do you think you are the owner of the house? Is that what the house wanted to tell you?’

‘The house wanted to tell me?’ she said. It sounded crazy and yet….


A few days later Miranda came to the office with an envelope in her hand.
‘I have found it’ she said.

‘You have found what?’

‘The complete family history of Broadhurst Manor and the family; it seems that the last one (I guess one of your parents) lived in disagreement with the family about whom they were going to marry. But as an only child they were the only heir. So when the last Broadhurst died, there was no one left to inherent the Manson or so they thought. Because there was you, but because of the argument no one knew about you’.

‘So you mean…’

‘I mean, congratulation, lady Broadhurst, you just need to go to the solicitor with these documents and everything is yours’.

She stood there baffled with the documents in hand.
‘So what I have seen…’

‘I don’t know, Jeanne, but that is some powerful family connection!’

Yes, she thought, very powerful!



© KH

Falling Leaves

I sit and stare at the leaves falling
One by one by one
As if it’s some kind of metaphor
For the time we still have left
I feel a heaviness in my heart
When I start to think of you
If the last leaf will start to fall
Will our time together be up as well?

© KH

All Hallows’ Eve

As my writer's block continues I am looking for writing prompts and this one I found here

Dampness lingered in the midnight air. Nearby, an unidentifiable sound was pricking her nerves, repeating every few seconds. Her breath was catching in her throat as a long shadow cleaves through the light spilling from a street lamp just around the corner ahead of her. She considered turning back but he told her to wait for her here on Calton road. She didn’t like it much, the burial ground was dark and gloomy and she got shivers all over. Was this his idea of a fun date? She really didn’t want to wait long here and debated in her head whether or not to go back to the busier Royal Mile. The mist was thickening like it does in Scotland, rolling in from absolutely nowhere. It came rolling over the hills and she felt the cold dampness as the temperature was dropping. She looked at her watch; he was now half an hour late.

That’s it; she thought and started walking back toward the Royal Mile when suddenly a hand was touching her shoulder. She screamed and turned around.  He stood there with a big smile as if it was the most normal thing to do, scare a girl like that.

‘Are you insane?’ she gasped for breath.

‘Sorry’ he smiled sheepishly. ‘I couldn’t get out of work earlier and my phone died on me again’

‘Why on earth did you want to meet here of all places?’ she asked ‘it’s creeping me out!’

He laughed; ‘Yeah, well that probably wasn’t one of my finer ideas to be honest, but now were here why don’t we have a look around at the cemetery?’

She looked at him as if he’d gotten completely bonkers ‘How about no’ she said and started to walk away.

‘Oh come on, Elly, I’ve always wanted to see the cemetery on a night like this! It’s ideal with the mist and all!’

‘You do know it’s all Hallows’ Eve right?’

‘Is it? Yeah, I know that’s why! Look there are more people with the same idea see?’ he pointed at the cemetery where people dressed in all kinds of costumes were walking around.

‘I don’t know, Pete, I don’t like it much’

He pleaded with her just long enough for her to cave in; ‘Oh fine’ she sighed ‘But not long, just for a bit’

‘Sure I know how you feel about Halloween’

They walked up to the cemetery and opened the squeaky gate. Here on top of the hill the fog was even thicker than on the street. Chills were crawling up and down her spine. She knew she shouldn’t be here, walking here, but somehow no one seemed to have a problem with it as it became quite busy at one point.

‘Like it now Elly?’ Pete asked with a grin which in the dark looked creepy Elly thought.

‘Not much no’ Elly admitted but she kept on walking behind Pete.

She heard a noise behind her and looked back. A couple was giggling and kissing right here at the cemetery, when they saw her looking they giggled louder and walked away.

She turned back and couldn’t see Pete anywhere anymore.

‘Pete’ she called out ‘Pete where are you?’

She started to walk up the hill a bit further and the noises died down. It became very quiet all of a sudden. All she could here was the rustling of the autumn leaves and a bit further away some noises from the city. Pete was nowhere to be seen.

‘Pete’ she started to whisper ‘Pete where are you?’

Why had she agreed to come up here in the first place, she wondered. She hated All Hallows’ Eve and never understood the fun of scaring people or making fun of the dead.  

‘Pete, I’m done’ she said softly and she started to back away to go back down the hill and into the busy city again.
Suddenly she tripped over something and almost fell onto the ground. She grabbed hold of an old tombstone as not to fall down. The ‘object’ over which she tripped made a muffled sound, almost if it moaned or something like that.

It was so dark; she couldn’t see a thing here. What was it she had tripped over? Was that a shoe?
She put her hand over her mouth as not to scream. There was Pete on the ground with a knife in his chest. He was already in a significant pool of blood which was even scarier. This was serious! Or was it? He couldn’t have been stabbed in the time she lost sight of him, could he? That was only a few minutes and the amount of blood was so much! Was this his Halloween prank?

‘Pete I swear if this is your way of a joke…’ she started but there was the moan again. She looked at his eyes and he looked at her with panic in his eyes. Whoever did this was still here, she thought. She was too afraid to turn around and surely but slowly took out her phone and dialled 999.

‘Calm down Pete’ she talked into the phone ‘It will be all right, the ambulance will come and the police and they will save you, I’m sure of it’

‘Ma’am, can I help you? What’s your emergency?’ she heard the operator saying.

‘Who stabbed you, Pete? Do you know?’ she kept talking to Pete as if she wasn’t on the phone. ‘Why would anyone stab you? Especially on all Hallows’ Eve and on a cemetery? Pete, stay with me!’

‘Ma’am, where are you, the ambulance and police are on their way, is it you can’t talk because you suspect the stabber is still in the area?’

‘Yes!’ she said relieved that the operator understood ‘Good Pete stay with me’ She looked beside her and saw Pete was lying next to William Knox’ gravestone. If she could tell that the operator would know where they were.

‘Pete you just wanted to take a look at your favourite poet, William Knox! I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier here, I should have known that!’

‘Are you at New Calton Burial Ground?’ the operator’s voice asked immediately.

‘Yes, that’s good, Pete’ she said to Pete who closed his eyes and to the operator.

‘Good they’re on their way, try to stay calm you’re doing great’ the operator said.

In the distance she could hear the sirens already. She looked up to the street to see if they were coming but then heard the rustling of the leaves even louder and looked up to see a shadow over the gravestone. She started to scream, backed away and hit her head at the gravestone and heard the operator’s voice in the distance. The lights of the police cars and ambulance which turned just around the corner were first bright then became blurry. And before she drifted away, she saw Pete standing over her with the knife in his hand, a red blood painted shirt on, grinning creepily, ready to stab her.

‘I so hate All Hallows’ Eve’ she whispered before she lost consciousness.

© KH

Self-doubt

For every spark of confidence 

There is a seed of doubt planted in my head
Where people say; you’re good
It says; you’re not good enough to be read
Some tell me I should publish my work
But doubt whispers in the dark corners of my mind
When I think I can accomplish things
It says in an evil tone; are you blind?
Surely you don’t think you can do this?
It laughs at me in my most insecure days
Gnawing away at my determination to become a writer
At my dream to set the world ablaze
It’s the story of my life
I know I shouldn’t listen to that insecure voice
I find it hard to ignore
And yet; I know I have no other choice


© KH

Gone mind

They think I’m mad, they all think I’m absolutely bonkers. I’m not you know; I do see him. Every day I do. He comes by and sits on the sofa and I ask him if he would like some coffee. When I turn around to make him some I talk to him and when I come back with his cup of coffee he has disappeared on me. My daughter came in the other day asking if I’ve had a visitor because she saw the coffee cup. How could I tell her it was his, her dad’s coffee? She wouldn’t understand and yell at me again. She does that a lot; yell at me.

If I forget to go to the bathroom before we go grocery shopping; she yells at me just right there in the middle of the street. It’s just so embarrassing. I would never do that to her and she knows it. The other day she told me she went to visit a nursing home for me to stay in. I told her I wasn’t planning on going to one any time soon. I like my house where I live now. My neighbourhood, my next door neighbour is asking me every Wednesday to come over to have a coffee, on two afternoons a week I go play cards with another neighbour. No, I won’t let her drag me off to some home. I’m not old yet. Besides, he wouldn’t know where to find me.

---

‘Hello darling are you back again? How was your day? I miss you when you’re gone. Where on earth are you going off to? Can’t you take me with you some day? Oh you would like a coffee, coming right up, promise you will stay right there, love’

‘Mum, who are you talking to?’

‘Oh hello dear, I was just making some coffee, would you like some too?’

‘Yes sure but who were you talking to?’

‘You know I always talk in myself, sweetheart’

‘Hm, I don’t know mum. Oh mum, look what a mess your closet is! We cleaned it up just two days ago’

‘Is it? Perhaps it’s because I couldn’t find my favourite sweater, you know the one I bought with your dad’

‘Oh mum, you know that one doesn’t fit you anymore. We threw it away together remember?’

‘Did we? Oh yes we did. Sorry dear, I will clean up the mess myself I promise’

‘Mum, I just spoke to your neighbour before coming in. She told me you told her I’m always yelling at you. That hurts mum, you know I don’t. Why do you say these things to people?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. You know the neighbour, she’s a tattletale. Here is your coffee’

‘Mum why do you have three cups of coffee? Are you expecting company?’

‘Oh no silly me, I just made one too many. Oh well, I’ll just put it right here on the table’

‘Where dad used to sit… mum are you alright?’

‘I just miss him dear, that’s all’

See, she thinks I’m mad. I’m not, honest I’m not. But he is right there. Why can’t she see him? Why can I see him? He smiles at me and gives me a wink. Then he puts his finger on his mouth, blows me a kiss and poof he’s gone again. It’s so confusing.
I turn to my daughter; ‘How was your day dear?’ but she doesn’t buy it. She wants to know about the mess and the cup of coffee. About so many other things that are going wrong. She wants me to go with her to see a doctor. There’s nothing wrong with me, if I want to be with my husband why can’t I?

‘Mum, you do know dad is dead right?’ my daughter asks.

‘Of course I do’ I look over to where he just has reappeared. He is laughing about her question.

‘Stop it’ I laugh with him. I can’t help myself but my daughter glances over to the couch and her worried look tells me enough.

‘Darling, it’s okay’ I tell her ‘your dad comes to visit me from time to time. Let me enjoy it while it lasts’

‘Mum’ her eyes filling with tears ‘I’m afraid to lose you as well. I’m scared you have early dementia’

‘Oh no’ I shrug ‘don’t be silly’

My daughter is not one to give up easily. She picks up the phone and rings the doctor to make an appointment. My husband smiles reassuringly.

‘I’m afraid to lose you again’ I whisper.

‘Don’t worry’ he whispers back ‘we will find each other again, we always do’

He smiles, winks and poof is gone as soon as my daughter has finished her call.

‘Tomorrow is our appointment mum’ she says ‘I’ll come pick you up at 9pm. Here I’ll write it down for you’

And when I look at her I see a single tear rolling slowly down her cheek.

‘What’s the matter darling?’ I ask her ‘why are you sad?’

She takes my hand and smiles ‘Nothing mum. It’s going to be okay’

© KH

I find you in my dreams

I must have dreamt of you again

Like I did so many nights before

I felt your touch once more

And heard your voice speak but then

Woke up to realise you gone

I must have laughed out loud whilst sleeping

Remembering we had such fun

Thinking how much you can miss someone

Even if (or perhaps especially) time has been creeping

Or has it gone too fast?

I must have cried when I awoke

Wanting to find you in my dreams once more

Because the simple fact I can’t ignore

The last time that we spoke

Was last night in my dream

I must have stared at the ceiling  

Thinking of you and me in the dream for awhile

I just got to see you smile

It takes time for healing

But the death of a loved one will always leave a mark

© KH

Writer's block

It's been almost a year since I've updated this blog! I know it's been a long time! I've been writing on my other blog but not much either.
My head is so full of ... just stuff. I really want to write more again, normal things that is, not Johnlock fanfiction which I have been writing in between. (I know but it is a nice change )
So for now I will update with one of my latest poem and will try to write my short stories again.

Oblivion

Floating on a cloud

I see a quilt of meadows

With a ribbon of a river through it

Vast forests of green 

Blue eyes of lakes

Mountains rising and falling

Thickening mist at their top

The breathing of the sea

Rolling on sandy beaches

A skein of geese in V shape flying

I am slowly drifting away

Into oblivion

© KH

Reality Check

It was still raining outside. Her nose was pressed against the window and she watched a droplet slide slowly downward over the glass. She followed it with her finger until she could see it no more. It was not that she was bored or that she didn’t love the rain; she did, she adored rainy days. It was just… she didn’t know really. Days like this made her feel melancholic in a way. It made her miss him more, yes that was it. She sighed and tore herself away from the window to make yet another cup of coffee. Her fourth this morning, she should really tone it done. Maybe she should go outside, walk some in the rain but when she looked outside again she saw it really pouring down hard. She wrapped her cardigan around her and sat down behind her laptop. It was high time she wrote some emails to his friends and family. They were still under the presumption that he was here with her. She had been postponing the inevitable for far too long unable to face reality. They were so far away and she couldn’t stand the thought of their love or blame even. Not now, not ever. She hardly knew them; she didn’t want to know any of them to be completely honest.

She started to think back to the time they met. She was on holiday here in Scotland when she met him whilst hiking one of the many Highland trails. He came from Canada but his ancestors had Scottish roots so he said and he came here to look for it. They spent some time together; both being alone and they clicked. They talked about anything and everything and she even told him about her dream of wanting to live here. He said he could imagine why. That it was such a beautiful country and he had fallen in love with it. He had to go back to Canada but they stayed in touch. One day he just turned up at her front door with loads of bags saying that he was there to stay. Her tiny flat in South-London wasn’t big enough but they managed meanwhile saving up all their money to buy a cottage in Scotland which they did a year later.

She looked around the cottage where she now lived alone. They fell in love with it the moment they walked in. It wasn’t that big, but big enough with a lovely garden close to a loch. ‘This is where we grow old’ he’d said and she’d believed him. That was last year.

She sighed looking at her laptop again. How do you tell a mother that her son has been missing for over a month and they have given up all hope of ever finding him again?

It had really started to pour down now when she walked to the kitchen to make lunch. She couldn’t even see the hills anymore. Thankfully she had an AGA in the kitchen that kept her warm. She remembered that she was the one who really wanted one and she’d never regretted it since. It made the whole kitchen more cosy and warm. She sat down at the kitchen table looking out. She couldn’t just send an email. That was too cold. She had to call her. ‘I really don’t want too’ she mumbled to herself.

Suddenly she was startled by a knock on the door. She sat there frozen. Who could that be, here in the middle of nowhere?
She got up to open and looked out to see a silhouette of a man in a hat standing there.

‘Who is there?’ she asked shaking as a leaf.

The only reply she got was more pounding at her door. Slowly she opened the door slightly to peek through to see a policeman standing there.

‘I’m so sorry to disturb you’ he said ‘can I come in?’

‘Yes, I’m sorry I live alone and I’m being careful’ she explained.

‘As you should’ he nodded. He took of his cap and shook the rain drops off. ‘Fine weather we’re having’ he smiled.

They sat down at the kitchen table where she quickly poured him some coffee which he welcomed.

‘What can I do for you?’ she asked.

‘Well’ he started ‘you have reported a missing person, am I right?’ when she nodded he continued ‘That missing person was your husband?’

‘Yes we were only married for a few months’

‘Ah I see’ he said ‘there has been someone here to talk to you about that?’

‘Yes, he has been missing for over a month now’

‘And he was gone hiking was it?’

‘Yes all by himself’ she flinched thinking about it ‘the weather was similar to this kind of weather so I didn’t like the idea much’

‘But he went on hikes often?’

‘Oh yes that’s how we met’ she smiled thinking about it ‘Funny you should come now, I was just thinking about how to tell his mother. Should I email her, call her? I just don’t know how to tell something like this’

‘No, you never do’ he looked at her ‘it is very difficult to follow the trail he was on, the weather has been like this for weeks now’

‘I know they’ve told me, they also told me not to have hope’

He looked at her how she sat there fiddling ‘Can I use your bathroom?’ he asked.

‘Sure’ she pointed him in the right direction.

She went back to the kitchen he made sure she was sitting down at the kitchen table again before walking up the stairs instead of going to the bathroom. He had always been intrigued with this case and something about it was off he thought. He made a quick look around the rooms. Nothing in the rooms, although one was locked, but the master bedroom was different he thought. The bed wasn’t made and it looked like the bed had been slept upon on both sides. He looked in the ensuite and found all the men’s shaving gear like it’s been used recently. When he heard a thumb he quickly walked back toward the bathroom, flushed the toilet and walked to the kitchen.

‘Would you like another cup of coffee?’ she asked when he walked in.

‘No thank you I really have to go back. I just wanted to see how you were doing. Is it alright if I come back to check up on you every now and again?’ he asked.

‘I would like that’ she smiled.

When she let him out she waved at him before closing the door. Outside he walked around the cottage out of her sight. There… it wasn’t his imagination. One of the rooms upstairs the one that was locked, the curtains, they moved! He looked around and saw a tree where he could hide behind. Then he saw a man’s face and not much later she was there too pulling him away from the window and closing the curtains again. He walked back to his car and called it in.

--- 

‘Why did you lock you husband up into that tiny room?’ he asked.

Her lip was trembling, she was on the verge of crying ‘He was going to leave me’ she said tears welling up in her eyes ‘he said he would never leave me’

‘Husband?’ the man said ‘I’m not her husband. We met during my holiday in Scotland. I’m Canadian and I live in Canada. I wanted to go back after a few weeks and she wanted me to stay. I hardly know the woman! She asked me to meet her for a goodbye diner and god forgive me I said yes to please her and be done with it. How could I know she was nuts enough to put something in my food and lock me up for god knows how long? How long has it been anyway? Months maybe a year even! The woman is mad! All I wanted was to go home to Canada and she wouldn’t let me. That woman needs a serious reality check!’

© KH