A Gothic Story: Choices

Contemplating, making a plan and waiting has never worked for me; I get too agitated, with the waiting I mean. I know now why that happens. I didn’t when I was younger, it just freaked me out. They always hover overhead; they only go away when I am moving, constantly moving. They get thicker and start writhing more and more when I am still, thinking, contemplating. They have never not been there; I can’t remember when they weren’t with me. It’s like I know them but not from this life, some former life (if they exist). I know it sounds weird but it’s exactly like that. You, by now probably think that I can see ghosts or something by how I call them “They”, but I assure you I am just like you in so many ways.

I started to really notice them after “The Accident”. You see I am alone in this world, completely alone. My family have all passed away, but not just as people, but as body and soul as well. That happens normally but not as sudden as it did back then. Back then I was a young girl; happy, wild and free. I used to wake up in the morning to the smell of Mum’s fresh cooked olive and tomato bread, the soft buzz of Dad’s shaver and Stefan’s deep and repetitive snoring. It was as if Death just grabbed them by his cold, filthy and manipulating hand, straight out of my life and into another.  I can’t dwell on the details of that day, it hurts to remember, much more than it does to speak them out loud, so I try not to. If I do even just for a minute I get consumed by them and get too dreary and fall into a deep, unconscious sleep. After “The Accident” I woke up in hospital, with a doctor peering over me in an inquisitive way. It saddens me to even remember...

“Annabelle, Annabelle can you hear me?” Said a deep male voice.

“Yes.” I muttered groggily.

“Are you feeling OK?” continued the voice.

“Yes.” Why is he asking me these silly questions, why can’t I see Mum and Dad, oh and Stefan?

“I know this might be a bit much for you right now but I have to tell you, it’s in their Will.” He muttered it.

“Who’s will?” Please no, please don’t say what I think you are going to say.

“Your Mum’s and Dad’s, Stefan was too young to write one.” He whispered it, as if afraid to wake someone.

No!!! It sounded like a bomb had just gone off in my head alerting me out of my sleep and bringing me to reality. I had to ask the question even though I knew the answer. Stefan was only 6, I was only 10.

“What do you mean, aren’t they waiting for me outside?”

“No, I don’t know how to break this to you but...” It seemed to drag on forever did that pause only making each moment more agonising “you were the only one out of your family that survived the car crash you were in a three weeks ago, your Mum, Dad and Stefan have all... passed away.” He said as if speaking to a baby.

“No! It can’t be, I survived why not them?” I whimpered. This time my inner babble was audible, but not just to me.

“I know this is a big shock since you have just been in a coma, for five weeks, recovering from a NDE – “

“A what?” I asked

“A Near Death Experience, for nearly over 5 weeks now, we were afraid we had lost you as well.” He said gently...

I think I must have fainted after that because I can’t remember anymore from that day. Since then I have started to work out what “They” are, I did a lot of contemplating and thinking to work it out. I didn’t sleep for days nearly weeks because of how much I wanted to know! The conclusion that I came to was somewhat disappointing, because of the lack of info I had to base it on. I think I better tell you now what “They” are before I chicken out and end up not telling you. “They” are what you would and I would normally call shadows.  That was all sometime ago, seven years to be precise.