The Town Whispers: Season 1

Chapter 8: Peggy and the Spiderling

Peggy LaPonte was many things - she'd been told she was weird, and dumb, she'd been called a sweetheart by her mother before, well you know... and she'd been told she was a whisper, by, well... a whisper.

Peggy was many things, and most of those things were the opinions of others struggling to define a curious little girl like Peggy.

What she did know, and what was true, is that she was imaginative, and she was almost certain she'd imagined the whisper which hadn't been whispered but WAS a whisper.

All the same, when the home was quiet, and absolutely still, late at night, when her mother had gone to bed, and there was nothing but the sounds of her family home settling in the mud on which it had been built, more years ago than Peggy cared to learn to count to....

[scampering and scratching]

She could hear claws scampering about her house, clicking and clacking on the old wooden floor boards. She was nearly certain she was imagining them as well, the same way she'd probably imagined the whisper, it didn't help her sleep any easier.

[scampering and scratching]

That wasn't the only thing Peggy tried to convince herself was only in her mind and born of her own fear.

Peggy and her mother, who had been close, were not so these days.

After what had happened to her father, Peggy had cried through the night, loudly. And her mother had not come to comfort her.

Maybe her mother was mad at her, it was all her fault after all, she had said something, or done something, when that THING had tricked her. Problem was she wasn't even entirely sure how it had tricked her, or whether any of it was even real.

Her mother had come to her room, but she'd merely stood in the doorway looking in, watching Peggy heave, and sob. Peggy had run to her mother seeing her there, craving the sort of comfort only a mother can give, with a full bodied hug that protects your soul from that which eats at it.

Peggy stopped short. Her mother hadn't opened her arms to Peggy, or knelt down to embrace her, she'd simply stood in the doorway to Peggy's room looking in as if watching an animal in a cage, knowing that it couldn't touch you as it charged at the bars.

Mildred, Peggy's Mother, looked down at her, with a mix of whimsy, and contempt.

Peggy, Mildred's daughter, looked up at her mom, with a mixture of confusion, and soul aching hurt.

Mildred turned around, leaving Peggy, lonely and hurt standing in the middle of her room.

Peggy went to bed night after night, not being hugged, or being told she was loved.

[creaking floorboard and barefoot steps]

That night, and well every other night Peggy lay staring at the ceiling, too afraid to go to sleep, and have her mother disappear into the night again, and never return.

[creaking floorboard and barefoot steps]

Each night Peggy's mother poked and prodded at that fear, each night she would leave, and Peggy could hardly breath, holding her breath as she heard the front door open, and her mother stepping out into the wild darkness.

It was nights like those, that Peggy wished the whisper would return, and speak with her. She prayed the whisper would keep her company through the night. Wished they'd play with her, and give her riddles, and sing her soft songs to fall asleep to.

She'd even called into the black of her room at night, hello is anyone there? Hoping to hear it respond.

But the whisper never did.

She'd tried asking Tom, her older brother, to let her stay in his bed once or twice, on those particularly cold, long nights, but he never wanted anything to do with her, and when he asked her what she wanted? She wouldn't speak... the words just wouldn't come up and out of her mouth.

In her mind she wasn't sure why he'd even have to ask her that, wasn't it obvious why she'd be there? Their mother was gone, gone like she'd been that night when everything changed, and dad was just gone now as well. Tom didn't care, why the hell didn't Tom care!? Why didn't he understand how lonely she felt, how vulnerable without anyone there looking out for her. She was there because she wanted, no... she needed a hug, and to feel protected.

She didn't think she could take it any longer.

Peggy didn't know what to do, or how to fix it.

Each inch of her house no longer felt like her home. Each inch of her room felt uncomfortable and foreign as if it belonged to someone else. Peggy felt uncomfortable beneath her cover in a bed which did not feel like her own.

WHISPER: Itsy Bitsy spiderling, is coming to Peggy.

WHISPER: Whispers don't cry - not when the spiderling is coming.

[scampering and scratching]

PEGGY: Hello?

PEGGY: What did you say?

PEGGY: Hello? Are you there? Please stay with me.

The whisper was already gone.