| Stanley Part 6 - Dreams |
1972
Elizabeth threw her navy blue beret and coat over the banister, dropped her satchel on the floor of the hall, and then kicked off her black leather shoes. Thankfully, it was POETS day and she could stay up later and not have to get up early in the morning. Her mother called from the sitting room.
“Elizabeth? Do me a favour, will you please? Just fetch me the Cellotape from the study? Thanks!”
What a pain; she had only just walked in the door! Elizabeth made her way to the study, short huffs and puffs breaking out with every other step. Reaching the door of the study, she threw it open with a tut and discovered her father standing there smiling.
“Daddy? Oh, Daddy! You’re home!” She ran into his arms and he held her tight before pushing her away gently.
“Let me take a good look at you. My, I swear you've grown while I've been away! Are you taller than your mother already?” he laughed.
“Don’t be silly! Well, I nearly am!” she grinned back.
Elizabeth studied her father for a few seconds while he rummaged in a khaki-coloured holdall resting on one of the chairs. His short black hair was sleeked back, giving even more emphasis to his high forehead and deep-set eyes. He was tanned a deep brown, but he looked tired. There was something else too. She sensed it every time he came home. Part of him had been left behind.
After a couple of minutes rooting through the holdall, he presented her with a gift wrapped in a white paper bag. "As you're getting older and no longer a baby, I thought I would give you something more fitting for a young lady. I can always take it back if you want to swap it for a doll?” he teased.
She ripped open the bag, opened the box inside, and then gasped with delight. “They’re beautiful! What are those stones, Daddy? Are they real?” Her eyes were sparkling as she pulled the earrings out of the box. “Put them on me please,” she squealed.
Henry Whyte started to chuckle. It was clear to Elizabeth that he loved these moments. They both did. They were all part of their homecoming ritual. He pulled her waist-length bunches to one side as he fed each one through her ear lobes. When he had finished, he said, “They’re pearls I think, sweetheart. And yes, they’re real as well as special! I want you to wear them -– always.”
The milky stones sparkled against the deep silver setting as Elizabeth’s head bounced with delight. Henry sat down on one of the armchairs and patted the arm for Elizabeth to join him.
“How have things been while I have been away? Has everything been OK?”
“Yes. Boring!” She declared with a sigh.
“What about with you?”
“Well, I have been having strange dreams and I saw you in them.” She averted her eyes, concentrating on the jewellery box the earrings had come in as she spoke. “You kill people, don’t you, Daddy?”
Henry stiffened for a split second and then answered, “Yes, I do, Elizabeth. But I don’t kill anyone who would not hesitate to kill me first if they could.”
Thou shall not kill
She nodded. “I know. I saw you in my dreams. Are you a bad man, Daddy?”
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been expecting the question; he knew it would come one day. In fact, he had considered the answer to it many times when he had hours, even days on his hands with nothing else to do but think about questions and moments like this.
“It all depends...” He struggled to find words he had rehearsed in his mind a thousand times before. “The world is not black and white, Elizabeth. Nothing ever is.”
“What if someone kills you, Daddy? Will you come home? Will I be able to see you like I can the others?” She lifted her face and looked into his blue-grey eyes.
“If I have a choice. If I die and there is any way I can come back to you, then believe me, your father will do so.” He meant every word he said.
Satisfied, Elizabeth again turned her attentions to the small box her earrings had come in. “Can I show Mummy, Daddy? What did you get her?
Henry laughed and jumped up from the chair, “Come on. Let’s go and find her!”
PrevLabels: 1970s, Elizabeth, Refuge of Delayed Souls, Web Fiction |
posted by Miladysa @ 10:00  |
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| Billy Part 15 - Desires |
1976
Elizabeth ran up the stairs two at a time and slammed her bedroom door shut. She threw herself face down on the bed. Her right hand reached out of its own accord and pressed the play button on her cassette player. Music flowed alongside her tears.
Gemma Bolton was a bitch of the highest order. She replayed the night’s events over and over in her mind. Occasionally, she imagined herself acting or speaking how she had would have liked to have reacted rather than the way she did. If only she could turn back time, she would do it differently and Gemma would have been the one in tears tonight, not her.
Outside, she could hear a large tipper lorry with its open tailgate crashing loudly as it tackled the narrow road on its way up to the quarry. The sound of the night-time traffic rushing through the rain-swept road was exaggerated as were the chattering voices of people passing by. Every man and his dog seemed to be out tonight and here she was, sobbing her heart out and wishing the world would go away.
How different everything had appeared earlier. She had barely been able to contain her excitement whilst getting ready to attend the end-of-year school disco. Elizabeth adored the long flowered maxi-skirt she had bought at the outdoor market and the skinny ribbed Lurex threaded jumper had set it off nicely. She had even allowed herself to believe she looked attractive with the curled flicks in her long blonde hair and the accentuated gold eye shadow she had worn.
Gemma had looked so much better though. Her petite figure clothed in a pair of wide caramel culottes and a luxurious gold satin blouse. Somehow, that creature managed to outdo her every step of the way. Elizabeth could live with that. She could give up all desires to be more attractive, cleverer, slimmer or more popular if only she could have been Tashriel’s favourite. Now, thanks to Gemma, she knew she never would be.
What hurt the most was that Gemma had known exactly what she was doing, had even planned it. Gemma had wanted to hurt her and she had walked right into her trap. What a sap she had been! How Gemma and her friends must have laughed at her desperate attempts to fit in, at her desire to be part of their group.
Why couldn’t Tashriel see through her? Maybe he could, but he loved her so much it didn’t matter to him. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself and replayed the night’s events again.
Gemma bumping into her
The spilled drink
And insincere apology
The offered handkerchief
Then seeing
Tashriel and Gemma
Together
The biggest humiliation of all was standing there while Gemma gloated.
PrevLabels: 1970s, Elizabeth, Refuge of Delayed Souls, Web Fiction |
| posted by Miladysa @ 11:57 |
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| Billy Part 12 - Playing With Fire |
1971
A heavy object hit the side of Elizabeth’s skull and tiny crimson sparks danced around in her head. There was a crunch of bone and she tasted blood where the inside of her cheek had grated against her teeth. She fell backwards and hit the floor awkwardly, catching her shoulder against the wall before crumpling to the floor in a heap. If it didn’t stop soon she would go mad!
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a grubby black boot heading towards her and managed to curl up in a foetal position before it made contact with her face and fingers. A tobacco scented scream managed to burst forth before she collapsed into unconsciousness.
Coldness rushed against her and she woke up with a start, gasping for breath and straining to make out anything at all in the silent, thick darkness engulfing her. The terror continued as she realised someone else was also there with her. She wanted to run and discovered she couldn’t move. This time her screams were silent.
“Elizabeth!” She opened her eyes and saw her mother standing over her. She dropped the scarf she had bought earlier.
“What the hell are you playing at, you stupid child!” The panic in her mother’s voice stilled any within herself and brought home the reality of the situation she now found herself in. She was for it this time!
Margaret frowned at the scarf lying on the bedroom floor and then at Elizabeth, “Where did you get this?”
Elizabeth shrugged, "It’s just a scarf.”
Her mother would never understand how much enjoyment she received from these little trips back through time. Up until now, she had never experienced such a violent reaction reading an object before. The experiences had always been comparable to reading a book or watching a film, only much better...
Elizabeth was shocked to hear a sharp intake of breath and looked up into her mother’s tear-filled blue eyes. “My God, you’re addicted to it! Do you have any idea what you’re playing with? You’re playing with fire!”
“Someone like you could never understand! It’s only a game... it’s only pretend,” she lied innocently. She wasn’t prepared to give it up no matter what anyone said. She would be more careful in future though. She didn’t want to experience anything as horrid as what she had seen just now. If her mother had not disturbed her, who knew how long it would have continued.
Feeling guilt-ridden and suddenly scared by her experience, a tearful Elizabeth ran forward and threw her arms around her mother. Burying her teary face in the warm-scented clothing she breathed deeply, the tones of Tweed perfume and talcum powder acting like a balm. She sensed a whirlpool of confusion within her mother; guilt coupled with powerlessness from being unable to prevent her from experimenting with the unknown. After a few moments Elizabeth felt strong enough to pull away.
“I’m sorry, Mummy! Really sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you and there's nothing to be frightened about -– honest!”
Margaret sighed, “I’m sorry too Elizabeth. I just wish that you would listen to me for once and stop messing around with things none of us really understand anything about. No matter what you may think, I’m not trying to prevent you from having fun -– I’m just trying to keep you out of harm’s way.”
“I won’t do it again, Mummy. Promise!”
They both knew it was a lie.
PrevLabels: 1970s, Elizabeth, Refuge of Delayed Souls, Web Fiction |
| posted by Miladysa @ 09:09 |
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