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Tags: #fiction, #halloween, #ghosts, #anthology, #nova scotia, #ghost anthology, #atlantic canada

Out of the Mist (20 page)

BOOK: Out of the Mist
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Gillian couldn't stay in that room
another minute. She felt a presence following her, breathing with
her, observing her. She was wide awake now, so she went downstairs
to make herself a cup of herbal tea and curled up on the sofa to
await the dawn. She was soon jolted out of a fitful sleep by Fanny
Fluff jumping on her chest and purring loudly, demanding her
breakfast. Gillian spent the morning putting furniture back into
her bedroom. She had planned to paint the blue bedroom but after
her nightmare, she was reluctant to enter it. She decided to
install some wainscoting in the bathroom and paint the other rooms
instead.

When she tired of working on the house,
Gillian explored the area, often biking along the flat country
roads that ran parallel to North Mountain.

By mid- August the house was almost
done. She should have felt deeply satisfied. Instead she was
feeling restless.

 

8 a.m., Aug. 23

Something's wrong. Where has all my
energy gone? I guess I should expect a slump after all those
changes. The constant drizzle this past week isn't helping. I'm
really noticing how alone I am. The weird thing is, I wake up each
morning with a feeling of foreboding. I'm trying to remember my
dreams but all I feel is that I've been in a dark place. Most
mornings I wake up feeling chilly, with a knot in my stomach. Maybe
I was too hasty in making such a drastic move to the country. I
should have just taken a leave of absence and stayed in my house
for a while. If this constant rain would finally let up, I could
get out, go biking, do something.

 

The unusually cold, damp weather
continued. Her daily walks with Maggie helped a bit.

She tried to be out of the house as
often as possible, often going to the local coffee shop for
breakfast in the hopes of alleviating this growing feeling of
unease. It was the evenings she particularly dreaded.

She didn't watch much television so she
filled her evenings with DVD movies and surfing the Net.
Invariably, she fell asleep as soon as it became dark, only to
sleep fitfully, not remembering much of what she dreamt. She often
went downstairs in the middle of the night to sleep on the couch,
hoping the change would help settle her. She felt she needed to
visit her therapist or, at the very least, get some sleeping
pills.

By now she was looking forward to her
friend's visit. Donna said she couldn't make it but Melanie
confirmed for the Labour Day weekend. Gillian was overjoyed to see
her again. Although Melanie was a petite brunette, she had the
energy of 10 people.

“I love the country feel of this
place,” said Melanie. “How old is the house?”

“I was told it was built around 1940,”
answered Gillian. “The previous owners redid the cedar
shingles.”

“Maybe we can find a few antiques in
Annapolis Royal,” called Melanie as she headed downstairs.

In no time, both women were sipping
wine and cooking up a storm while singing along to “The Country and
Western Show” on the local radio station. What a relief to finally
have laughter in her house!

That night, Melanie refused Gillian's
offer to sleep in her room. Instead, she settled herself in the
blue bedroom. Gillian hadn't confided any of her misgivings to her
friend as she still wasn't sure what was going on. She fell asleep
wondering if Melanie would sleep well. She hoped this would settle
whether something was really happening or if she was actually
starting to lose it.

As it turned out, Melanie was a very
light sleeper and had the habit of sleeping while listening to
sounds of nature on her MP3 player. The music was still on when she
woke the next morning. She felt rested but wondered why she was so
chilly; it was a warm summer day.

“How did you sleep?” asked Gillian at
breakfast.

“I slept like a log,” replied Melanie.
“I was wondering what you’ll do with Fanny and Maggie while we're
gone?”

“Oh, I've arranged to board Maggie at a
kennel and Fanny Fluff can manage on her own for a couple of
days.”

“Any plans for our trip tomorrow?”

“Well, I thought we'd have lunch at a
cute Austrian cafe on the waterfront. Their pastry is to die for!
Then we could visit ‘The Habitation’. It's the site of Champlain's
second French settlement in Canada.”

“Sounds great!” replied Melanie.

Their weekend visit was all too brief.
The two women shared long walks and wonderful meals accompanied by
non-stop talking and laughter. Gillian found a set of antique
dishes in one of the quaint shops. Later that evening, Melanie
surprised her with a beautiful old pitcher.

“For those wonderful wild flowers,” she
said. “Thank you for a great weekend!”

“No, thank
you
for all the
help,” replied Gillian.

They returned on Labour Day and picked
up Maggie at the kennel before going to the house. Fanny Fluff was
anxiously waiting at the front door, happy to have them back.

Gillian hadn't felt so good in weeks. A
weight had lifted along with the bad weather. Re-energized, she
decided to finally paint the small bedroom. She boldly decided to
sleep in the blue room and put to rest the uneasiness that had
grown over the past few weeks. After all, Melanie had slept very
well in that room!

The air still felt unusually chilly.
However, Gillian, determined to prove her fears groundless, simply
pulled out a blanket from the bottom drawer of the bureau. She
quickly fell into an exhausted sleep.

The hours passed. Unseen, a bank of
dark stormy clouds slowly covered the bright starry sky. Maggie was
sleeping curled up on the rug in Gillian's room. Fanny Fluff had
cautiously crept into the blue room and was blissfully asleep near
Gillian's head. Suddenly, Fanny was wide awake. The fur on the back
of her neck rose as she anxiously peered into the darkness. Her
eyes scanned the shadowy room and a slow growl rose from deep in
her throat.

Gillian was enjoying a dreamless sleep.
Suddenly, she awoke. She was no longer in the small bedroom but in
a completely black space. She couldn't move. She felt suspended in
a darkness so thick it was almost a physical presence. The total
absence of light gradually sucked the air from around her and she
began to gasp for breath. She woke up in a cold sweat. This time
she was truly awake.

She tried to turn on the bedside lamp
but it wouldn't work. She heard the howling wind and rain outside
her window and figured there was a power outage. Trembling with
fear, she pulled the top blanket around her shoulders and felt her
way to the bathroom where she kept an emergency flashlight on the
counter. She flicked on the light and to her horror there was
another face, a young woman's face, superimposed over her own pale
reflection. The young woman's long bushy hair formed an ashen halo
around her head, white tendrils floating into the surrounding
darkness.

“Oh my God!” shrieked Gillian. She tore
off the blanket and hurtled down the stairs. She quickly found her
raincoat and boots, grabbed her keys, and was out of the house in a
flash.

Mercifully, the car started on the
first turn. As she sped down the narrow country road toward
Wolfville, she was shaking so hard she could hardly keep the car on
the road. “Oh my God! Oh My God!” she kept repeating as she sped
into the inky darkness. Her headlights picked out the looming
silhouettes of blowing trees and the darker hulks of farmhouses and
barns. She sobbed with relief when she saw a tiny line of street
lights shining in the distance. The houses were all dark, even the
service station was closed. Gillian headed for Tim Horton’s which
she knew was open all night long.

The two women behind the counter were
astonished to see someone arrive at 2 a.m. in the middle of the
worst storm of the summer. Surprise gave way to alarm when they
noticed Gillian's dishevelled appearance, her wild eyes, and her
wet pyjama legs dripping onto the floor.

“Good Lord!” cried the older woman.
“What's going on? Are you all right dear?”

Gillian slumped in a chair and wept. It
took her a few minutes to calm down. In bits and pieces she told
the two concerned women about the draughty room, the dreams, and
the vision in the mirror. The women exchanged knowing glances.

“Well dear, no one wanted to say so
before. Didn't want to scare you in case nothing happened, but that
house was empty for a reason. You see, 20 years ago there was a
family living there. They had a teenage daughter. Nice folks. Well,
one day the couple came back from the movies to find the house
empty. At first they thought their daughter had biked to a friend's
house. By midnight, they started phoning around. The girl never
came back. It was the talk of the town for months. The police found
absolutely no clues. The TV was still on, a snack half eaten on the
coffee table. What a sin! The parents moved away of course....”

“It must be her ghost haunting my
house,” sniffled Gillian. “Maybe she's trying to tell me something.
I can't take any more of this!”

The next day, Gillian moved out. She
stayed in the city for a while with Melanie, trying to decide what
to do next. What a mess! She'd retired, sold her home, and now her
new house probably wouldn't sell with a story like that going
around! She tried to fill her days as best she could but she was
worried sick. She decided to put the house up for sale. What else
could she do?

After a few weeks, she moved into a
furnished apartment and tried to get her life back in order. By
early November, no one had showed any interest in the house. She
decided it was time to clear her things out. Once again, Melanie
offered to help.

They drove to Port Williams on a Friday
evening and stayed at the local B&B. By Sunday afternoon most
of the packing was done and Melanie went to town to get a pizza.
Gillian decided to take Maggie for a walk following a path along
the river. It was a grey day with the promise of snow in the air.
Gillian walked briskly, her hands deep in her pockets, the events
of the past few months going round and round in her mind.

It took a while to notice that Maggie
was gone. Gillian whistled for her. Presently, Maggie came bounding
out of the woods but soon disappeared in the underbrush.
That
darn dog
, she thought, making her way into the dense bushes.
She once again heard Maggie come crashing through the undergrowth.
Gillian finally spotted her dog peeking at her from behind a stand
of small spruce trees. She seemed to have something in her mouth
but darted back into the forest before Gillian could reach her.
This time, Gillian kept up with her until they came to a small
clearing. Maggie was furiously digging into a pile of fallen
leaves. Gillian quickly came up intending to grab her collar. What
she saw, though, made her recoil in horror.

Lying by Maggie's head was what
appeared to be a human bone, a femur maybe. The dog kept on
digging, trying to get to the rest of his find. Gillian had no
doubt as to what Maggie had found. It had to be the body of that
poor girl. She grabbed Maggie by the collar, snapped on her leash
and dragged her back along the path as fast as she could run.

Melanie was already back with the
pizza. Gillian burst into the house, her eyes wild with horror.
They immediately called 911. Gillian's story was pretty
straightforward. The police officer noted her information and told
her they would call as soon as they had some news. After they left,
the two women returned to the B&B. Gillian took a sleeping pill
and was out for the night.

A week later, Gillian got the call. The
DNA evidence matched. It was the body of the missing girl. The
officer informed Gillian that the girl’s parents had been informed.
They were in shock but extremely grateful to Gillian for having
finally brought them some closure.

After the great upheaval of the past
few months, Gillian was once again back in the city. She and
Melanie had moved her boxes of personal belongings but had left the
furniture behind. There was no question of going back for a while.
She decided to put all that behind her and concentrate on the
present, one day at a time.

Another Christmas came and went,
another long cold winter. This time Gillian went to a different
resort. By spring, she felt she had enough courage to return to the
country and finally move her furniture. Melanie wasn't available
but Donna offered to help.

They drove to the country house on
Saturday morning, taking Fanny Fluff with them. Her brother, who
was staying in her apartment for the weekend, was allergic to cats.
By afternoon they decided to go to Wolfville for a coffee break.
Gillian had already told Donna all the details of her ordeal. They
speculated about what exactly happened that fateful night so long
ago.

They were about to cross the street
when a sudden gust of wind blew Gillian's hat to the ground behind
her. As she stepped back to retrieve it, a low sports car careened
through the crosswalk, barely missing the people coming the other
way. Had Gillian not reached back for her hat she would have been
hit! She stood there, hat in hand, staring at the car which was
rapidly receding in the distance. As she turned back to speak to
Donna, she saw her reflection in the large display window behind
her. To her astonishment, she distinctly saw a white shadow swirl
around her and, quickly rising, disappear in the sky. Her heart
sank! What if her ordeal wasn't over?

Gillian was quiet on the way home. She
didn't tell Donna about what she had seen. When they got back to
the house, though, it felt different somehow. The chill was gone
and she found Fanny Fluff asleep in the blue bedroom. Donna was
surprised when Gillian suggested they stay overnight, given all
that she had heard. Gillian finally told Donna about the vision in
the store window, and understood why she wanted to stay overnight.
Maybe this whole nightmare was finally coming to a close.

BOOK: Out of the Mist
7.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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