The Stone House

4.

Six weeks ago is when everything changed.

I was coming back from the fields, the setting summer sun was disappearing on the horizon and the clouds were melting into a deep purple. I could hear the deep rattle of the approaching train.

By habit I looked over and to my horror I saw Abbey on the tracks.

"Abbey!" I screamed. I dropped my bag and began to run, screaming her name over and over.

The thunder of the train grew louder and I saw its huge form approach. "Abbey!" I screamed again.

I saw Catherine run from the house sprinting towards our child.

Abbey turned to her mother and then turned back to the train realising what was about to happen. My breath was ragged in my throat but I kept my legs pounding towards her.

I was close enough to see her posture change, see her head suddenly thrust back, and arms twist in to her sides. I knew her eyes would be rolling back in her head and it would have been moments before she fell to the ground in a fit.

I tried to take some solace in the fact that when the train hit her, she may not have felt a thing.

I held Catherine tight as she screamed and screamed while the train thundered past.

***

We buried what was left of our daughter.

That night I held my wife tight as I could. Through a night of wailing and through the heavy sobs. Eventually she had cried herself out for the night and was swallowing heavily as I held her tear-streaked and puffy face.

"Someone was holding her." She said. "Someone was holding her on the tracks."

But that was impossible. I had been close. Close enough to see as our little girl begin to fit, close enough to see that that no one was holding Abbey and besides no other remains had been found.

I tried to explain. But my wife would not reply nor speak another word for the night.