 
Whisper whisper

A collection of short stories by

Kizzy Lee

Published by:

Kizzy Lee on Smashwords

Whisper whisper

Copyright 2012 by Kizzy Lee

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Adult Reading Material

This book is written using English versions of many words; also at some places there is vernacular spelling and slang in order to capture the true essence of the story.

Thank you to my patient family; my wonderful children and supportive husband, I couldn't have done this without you guys, thank you also for the help and support of my friends; mims,Rhonda,liz,penny, and many others who have sent me support, shown kindness and been there for me, I really appreciate the friendship of all these people.

I enjoyed writing these stories immensely and I have many more to write yet so I really hope you all enjoy reading them, I really appreciate your reading this book, thank you.

**Table of Contents**

Pass it on

A new life?

Blueberry

Buck

Cliff

Don't leave me

How did she get here?

The alley

Whisper whisper

About the author

~~~~~~

**Pass it on**

The End

Joe was annoyed, very, very annoyed, today was not going well, it was full of little things going wrong, he got out of wrong side of bed this morning, quite literally, this meant he stubbed his toe and that started the day badly, muttering to himself he had gone into the bathroom where he had slipped over and hurt his elbow, after sorting himself out he had come downstairs and grumbling had gotten his post, mostly full of bills, each one that he opened making him more grouchy, he opened the last letter to find it was a decree nisi from his wife's solicitor's, this made him feel thoroughly miserable, even more so as he realised as he had still, somewhere deep down, hoped there would be some saving of the relationship with his now ex wife. Sighing deeply, he felt the anger rising against himself, he told himself off for even thinking he could be in any way be optimistic, mulling over all what had gone wrong with his life he became more and more vexed, punishing himself in his mind as he went through bit by bit, all that had happened to him, from being bullied at school, to losing his father at the tender age of ten, to the trials and tribulations of growing up, the pain of being rejected by women whom he had lost his heart too, having met his now ex wife who had continually taken advantage of him, then she commits the sin of leaving him when he is in jail, this part makes him really angry as he remembers once again how he spent the best part of 8 years in jail, through no fault of his own, how badly the justice system had let him down, "how the hell did I end up banged up" he whinged crossly to himself.

He saw the time and knowing now that he was late he began to rush, frantically getting what he needed from his grimy little flat, which he remembered was at the end of its lease, leaving him no option but to find some where new to live, he was too busy now and would just have to sort it when he had finished work, 'and even bloody work were being twats', he thought to himself, as he saw the letter of termination he had received earlier this week, 'life is totally bloody crap' he said out loud, he began cursing loudly as he knocked over a cup of tea in his efforts to get ready and out on time, a stain growing now on the carpet as he slammed the door and went to his car.

Still muttering irritably to himself he began to drive to, what would be the last job he would do for this company, his termination was in effect from tomorrow. He stared glumly out of his car window as he drove, after about an hour of following the directions given, he thought to himself that it was in fact rather quiet on this road, no cars, no people, no buildings, nothing but countryside for ages, it seemed like the middle of nowhere to him. 'God ' he thought 'it's so desolate, what on earth makes people choose to live this far from civilization, its bloody stupid'. Grumbling he turned the corner and saw the house for the first time. Looking at the house, something was niggling him but he couldn't put his finger on what it was, the house was quite big, but not too big, and though it looked a little old, it did not seem run down, he drove to a halt and parked up his car.

Noticing a man on the roof obviously mending something, he went to get out of the car to call to him and was immediately approached by some huge monstrous dog, considering he was already in a very disgruntled mood this made him even worse, he shouted and cursed at the dog, angrily kicking it away, the dog just kept coming back and jumping all over him, it too, was angry and snarling, biting at his trousers, biting at his legs , and slobbering on his clothes, Joe was so totally mad with today and in fact with his whole life, he began to vent some of this pent up anger on the dog, he kicked viciously at it shouting and then remembering the man on the roof he shouted to him to get the dog under control. Somewhat startled he saw the man had come down from the roof and was stood near him, he shouted again at him to get the dog away, rather infuriatingly the man seemed to keep smiling and said quietly, "aint no way I can do that mister" and Joe wasn't sure, but he thought he heard the man say 'he yours now' but for some reason his head seemed to be clouding slightly, shaking his head in an effort to get rid of the muzzy feeling and still being accosted by the dog, he said "please get this bloody dog off me", the man only looked at him, smiling, then gave Joe a toy that belonged to the dog, the man says " you gotta throw it ", 'oh god' thought Joe 'how can this get any worse,?'

In desperation Joe throws the toy, then hoping to get the business over and done with, he tries to hurry the man inside the house, 'after all' he thought 'its only some papers to be signed, should be done in five minutes then home'.

The dog follows him all the way jumping at him, nudging him and sneaking in the odd nibble and Joe is quite livid, the man gets the papers, smiling the whole time and this too gets on Joes nerves, in another effort of trying to get rid off the dog he throws the toy again, and again, but the dog comes back each time, he kicks repeatedly at it though his foot doesn't actually and curses under his breath constantly.

The man has left the papers on the table so Joe grabs them and quickly signs them not even checking really what is in them he is so anxious to get out, leave this place and get away from that dog, which is still jumping at him and slobbering on him, growling curses the whole time Joe puts down the papers and calls "I am done now ", there is no answer, only the sound of low whine from the dog ,muttering and cursing Joe goes to look for the man, he looks all over the house but cant find him anywhere, rubbing his head, for a headache begins to grow there, he stops to think, 'should he just go?' the dog continually harasses him, Joe looks once more round the house calling out exasperated as he does "it's all done, now I have to go" , but still no sign of the man anywhere. As he looks round it occurs to him that the house seems terribly empty, not much in it, just the basic furniture needed, no personal artifacts, no pictures, no nick knacks of any kind.

Finally feeling a wave of exhaustion sweep over him he slumps down in a chair, the dog still with him, still being irksome to him, though now it is not biting, only slobbering on him and nudging him with its nose, Joe tries to get his head round where the man has gone but he is finding it hard to concentrate, he feels tired, the dog licks his hand now and Joe looks at the dog and stops cursing it, then despite himself he strokes the dog and talks, gruffly at first, to the dog, "where's your master then?" then softening towards the dog he pats it on the head, unable to get up he feels exhaustion, not just from today, but from his while life, sweep through him and he strokes the dog and mutters again "where's your bloody master gone" and manages a small smile to himself, he ruffles the dogs ears and the dog almost seems to smile at him, and strangely the thought comes to Joe that he is the dogs master now, he shakes his head slightly and feeling the fatigue take over, feeling the weight of all his troubles bear down on him, he succumbs to a deep sleep.

He sleeps for such a long time, nearly three days in fact, he wakes up and though he feels sore and stiff from sleeping in a chair, he doesn't actually feel too bad, oddly it would seem the depression, the troubles he had, it all seems a little distant, instead he feels some sort of calm descend over him, trying to digest all he has been through he finds it difficult and he does feel slightly annoyed but cant actually be sure about what it is that he feels troubled about.

The dog is at his feet looking obediently at him now its tail wagging, causing a thumping noise on the floor, Joe looks at it and mutters "ahh you're still here" and smiles a little, he goes to the door and sees the papers on the table remembering he goes to look at them reading them now properly for the first time. He is surprised by the contents of the first paper, it seems to say that he, Joe, is now the owner of the house, scratching his head, wondering what is going on, he reads it again, it seems to all be in order, quite clearly and legally, it is all his now, the house and land its on, the dog still at his feet looking up at him its tongue out panting, waiting obediently for a command. Joe strokes the dog and muses on the happenings of today, smiling as the dog licks his hand he goes to read the next piece of paper, he realizes it is written by the man on the roof, it is a note written rather crudely in pencil and scruffy misspelled letters, it explains to him that though he has been through a lot in his life now it is his turn, its his time and to let the dog help him and when he is recovered to pass it on.

He walks through the house, not quite taking it all in, and still clutching the note he returns to the room and sits, feeling a little faint as he tries to comprehend what is being said to him here, he feels a shiver go through him and goes to read the note again, as he does so its like the man on the roof knew all he had been through.

Shaking, he feels like his whole life laid bare and the words on the note stand out, just let the dog help him, at this point Joe looks at the dog properly for the first time, stroking the dogs ears and smiling at it, he realizes that the dog needs attention, its hair is all matted, it has big sores on its skin, he feels a surge of pity for the dog and strokes it gently saying "hey dog its ok I will see to you" and feeling optimistic, he smiles rather fondly at the dog now as it wags its tail, the thumping noise it makes on the floor echoing through the house, Joe then leads the dog upstairs to bathe it.

The dog sits quietly in the bathroom as Joe runs a bath for it, making the water warm and finding soap, he attempts to bathe the dog and the dog jumps and splashes and barks as it tries to jump out of the bath, making it extremely difficult for Joe to clean the dog and much worse the now rather messy bathroom, for a moment Joe feels his old anger rising again as the water goes everywhere and covered in water and soap and muck he shouts at the dog, but as he does so he sees how comical the dog looks its fur all wet and a morose expression on the friendly dog face, " you look like a drowned rat," he says and starts to laugh, he laughs harder and harder, full belly laughs have taken hold of him and tears begin to pour down his face. Finally his feelings some what vented, he looks at the wet dog that now snuggles at his feet where he has sat slumped with the emotion that ran through him, he puts his arms round the dog and feel strangely compelled to say thank you, laughing slightly to himself he gets up muttering, "better get a hold of myself before I get locked up".

They go downstairs, in a draw Joe finds some antiseptic cream which he then sets about applying very gently to the dogs sores, taking his time to be careful not to hurt the dog, the time passes without his noticing and it gets dark before he is done, and then after feeding himself and the dog he goes to find the bedroom, he collapses gratefully into bed, tired and drained but he doesn't realize that he has in fact spent the whole day not stressing about his problems, he sleeps soundly and without stirring.

The next day dawns and Joes wakes this time feeling refreshed and in fact for the first time in a long time he looks forward to the day, after washing and dressing he goes down feeds the dog and himself, he automatically strokes the dog now and they have become close friends, always together, a wonderful companionship has become the norm, he smiles frequently at the dog and sometimes it seems the dog smiles back at him, this makes Joe laugh, and he likes it.

Looking around the house, Joe starts taking in properly now, what the house is like, he notices many small jobs that need doing, making a mental note to start that day he looks for stuff he can repair the house with and finding much of use in a small room at the back of the house, he begins with making repairs to the house, starting with painting, and progressing on to mending and replacing all that is no good.

The days pass quickly as Joe is kept busy with the numerous small repair jobs he is happy and the dog is always with him. At night he rests a while with the dog sat with him, he strokes the dog as he mulls over what is to be fixed the next day and each day passes content and peacefully this way and the days grow shorter as summer turns to winter, and more time is spent inside fixing those jobs in the house away from the cold, he lovingly tends to the house and always fondly he smiles at his constant companion and the dog always wags its tail, always at his side patiently being there, always without question its faithfulness never wavering.

As the spring comes around again and the days are brighter, Joe returns to the outside jobs once more, having finished all the inside, through the winter, he and the dog enjoy the warm sunshine on their skin as they begin to spend more time outside, they both look good now, healthy and happy, and healed, the dog is waggy tailed happy with a shiny coat and Joe has the air of a content and happy man, he has a slight tan from the jobs he has completed to the outside of the house and all around there is an air of peacefulness.

One morning Joe wakes and it is yet another gloriously warm day and he thinks what jobs are left to do, going downstairs with his usual morning cuppa he notices the cupboard door slightly a jar, he goes to it and sees the papers he saw that first day, they are all there those that he signed, and others rather than let them fall he takes them out, drinking his cup of tea, he gasps as the dog jumps up at him and he drops the cup, the tea spills on the floor, Joe laughs at the dog and says "hey dog you feeling all bouncy this morning" he goes to clean up the mess and as he does so leaves the papers on the table, something niggles his mind, something at the back seems to whisper 'your time is up now', but shaking his head he ignores it, he knows he does not want this time to end and after cleaning the mess he thinks what needs to be done around the house and goes to his jobs. It takes him a minute or two for him to realize he has completed all jobs on the house except one, he still has to mend the roof, smiling to himself he gets the ladder and goes to fix the roof.

The sun is shining brightly as Joe hears the car drive up to the house, vaguely he has recollection of a letter saying some person would come and see the house, he doesn't remember the details but smiles to himself as he realizes nothing bothers him these days, as he continues to fix the roof he hears a commotion down below, there down below, there is a man, the man has got out of his car and the dog has started harassing him, jumping up at the man and barking and biting him, though not hard enough to break the skin, the man is furious and shouts at Joe to call the dog off, Joe watches as the man is very obviously stressed and unhurriedly, still smiling, Joe climbs down the ladder to go to him. Not really wanting this all to happen Joe knows somehow it must, the man shouts at Joe again and again, to get the dog away, Joe smiles and says to the man "there aint no way i can do that " and as he walks into the house he mutters "he is your dog now" and feel his heart sink a little, still wanting to hope this is not his time over, he goes to the papers and picks them up, looking at the first one he sees it is not his name now but a new name is there as the owner of the house, Joe feels a tear begin to sting his eye, but blinking it back he looks to the note, he is a little startled as it says "now your turn is over, this is the new owner, you must give him the toy" , he puts down the papers and goes to the man, he gives him the toy and says "you must throw it ", infuriated the man snatches the toy and throws it as hard as he can, smiling, Joe takes him to the house and gives the man the papers and as he reads through them, Joe quietly slips out and starts on the path, he looks back one last time and knowing now his life is good, he is fully recovered he smiles at the dog and says silently 'thank you' the dog nods almost imperceptibly in acknowledgment and Joe turns and walks down the path to his new life, knowing everything is good now, he smiles to himself.

The Beginning.

~~~~~~

**A New Life?**

Her porcelain smooth skin now freckled with snowflakes yet the cold doesn't seem to affect her, sitting up, her hand sinking into snow she can see quite clearly but not feel, she frowns, trying to work it out, standing now and brushing off her clothes, again her mind vaguely registers something, a beautiful long skirt, surely she had been wearing jeans? She always wore jeans, shaking her head as if trying to lift a gauze curtain, gossamer soft, covering the details of everything her mind was trying to take in, where was she? How had she got here? What was she doing before this happened?

It was no good right now her brain was struggling, it kept somehow thinking it ought to be hurting or suffering some kind of strain but nothing, she couldn't feel anything, she sighs, and unable to put a finger on what was discordant about this situation. Again a shake of her head as she tries to removes the fuzziness surrounding all her thoughts. Looking up she notices some large cogs, much larger than her and they were moving, the inside cog was moving in the opposite direction to the outside one and she found the whole scene familiar, she sees a small statue down to one side of the cogs arrangement and recognizes it as an old statue, moss covered, of the queen from Alice in Wonderland, it is then that she fully understands where she is, 'that is quite ridiculous, not to mention somewhat impossible' her brain argues, her actions becoming more frantic as she looks about her, her mind tries to digest all the evidence, and all the evidence really does point to the one rather impossible fact, a fact her mind isn't quite ready to say out loud for fear of it actually becoming a reality once said and therefore unable to retract it, again she goes back to the visual information around her, looking to her left a large building , not as detailed now as she had remembered it or wanted it to be , and behind her another building, in an apparently broken and disused state, missing its roof , looking closely at the plants and noting the seemingly flat look to them and sighing after all the hard work she had put into them she had hoped that somehow the result would be a lot better than this, but then can anything that tries to resemble something living ever be as good as something that actually is living?

It was becoming more obvious that no matter how much she tried to argue, that in reality two plus two must equal four right here, right now, it seemed to equal infinity or something equally absurd, infinity, the image of an infinity symbol entered her mind along side the idea that wasn't there some huge number or was it in fact a number meant to represent perhaps infinity or something like and wasn't it called a googol or something? Her mind now entertaining random thoughts and making the loose connections between impossibly large numbers, googol, and then Google the rather infamous internet search engine and now coming round in what her brain considered a rather neat way to her present situation, she was going to cross her arms and attempt to glare impatiently at her mind for being so meanderingly random with all these meaningless thoughts when it had a real predicament to deal with right now, until it occurred to her that glaring impatiently at your own mind was maybe bordering of the edge of insanity, and so returning her mind back to more musings.

'Visual information' she thought, as she began to walk around to the front of the large building, the thought lingered in her mind, visual information, here was a whole world based on visual information, now it is known to be a large part of any known world, but here it would seem to be more than that, it was the whole of the experience, as she approached the front entrance of the building which was now defiantly appearing to be a shop and not half as well designed as she had taken pride in thinking it had been before, she came to the conclusion that she was in fact quite stuck, not stuck so much right here in this spot, in this doorway, but still very much stuck. She looked up at the ice patterns she had spent so many hours lovingly creating and thinking 'well yes I adored creating it all, and I loved showing it to people, loved seeing them here, and always hoping someone else would like it as much as me but........'

She looked round to the ice covered trees and smiled and here she was starting to think she had done a good job, they at least looked real, taking a few steps further as she began to climb the steps she sighed again to realize that even though it all looked really good the snow didn't crunch and it didn't have that cold bite to it that edged all winter land wonders, looking to where the roof should have been on the building she had just left, to the snow falling in beautiful big flakes yet only in one small area and those beautiful big flakes didn't melt on your face, as the said flakes floating constantly down around her, she stood hesitantly knee deep in snow that had no substance, unsure what to do next, she could she supposed go round to the side of the building where she knew there were steps that would lead upstairs to a room with a large fire blazing away, it would look welcoming, warm, yet it wasn't, it had the most gorgeous carved wooden surround she knew because she had taken hours to paint the beautiful wooden surround, but she wouldn't feel the warmth that should come from such a fire.

Her mind at this point, stopped for a moment as a strange thought tried to edge its way in not quite making itself known, she tried for a moment to once again recall any detail to help her understand how she came to be in this puzzling dilemma, as she did so again at the edges of her conscious mind were vague recollections, memories? Of another place, another time, children, with each memory of the kids coming back to her an unbound less love for them and unending devotion, her kids! Oh my god, oh my god, her brain repeated over and over and she felt a wave of sheer terror over whelm her, her kids! She loved them more than life itself and she was stuck here! Her kids needed her! She needed them! Oh my god, her brain now going into freefall as the hideousness of this situation hit her, being here was not the problem, oh god the full horror hits her smack in the face, and she is left reeling, being here that's not what's wrong, it's how the hell am I going to get back?

The insurmountable truth surrounds her fleeing brain, oh yes this was her land, her home she had called it, she had put all her energy into it, her concentrated efforts, pouring her time and what had felt like blood, sweat and tears into it, yes she owned it, built it, painted it, paid for the damn thing and here it was in all its glory for the whole world to enjoy, to compliment, how well she had made it, how beautifully detailed and fabulously realistic this place was, she had made this place come alive, like it was almost real genuine and authentic were the most often heard compliments that they had said, but it wasn't! She wanted to scream, none of it is real! My kids, they are real! My love for them; that's real, their love for me; that's real, here was no warmth, no love, no emotion, it was based on physics, maths, and yet here in its badly timed attempt at humor her brain feebly jokes 'I am not a number!'

The elastic band of reality snapping her back to this ridiculous and what should be bloody impossible crises, which was all too real unfortunately for her, all she could think was I want to go home! How do I get home? home to my kids, to my real life, her brain couldn't cope with the crushing thought of never seeing them again and it sinks into the back of her skull, as if trying to escape the thought would make it go away, at this moment she wanted to sink to the ground, let it swallow her up but it wasn't mathematically possible, there was no recognized action for that, she had no ' faint recognition' there was no action card in the chimera with the command faint on it and for a while her body remained rooted to the spot stood quite still, in the deepest recesses of her mind flickered a candle of hope, her soul now nearly retreated yet still hanging in there as it hovered in the gloom inside this false body, the tiny flame insisting of keeping her consciousness awake with the thoughts rambling through her mind, the thoughts began to take on more structure, lining up one by one as if an army waiting for inspection. 'You are alive' said one. 'You can think' said the next. The third smiled and produced a Latin phrase 'cogito ergo sum'. Stopping slightly as the meaning of this filters through her brain and as always with indomitable cheerfulness her mind sends forward one more soldier of thought. 'Non illegitmi carborundum est'

Arrgghh! she would have said if she could have, for she knew this Latin saying more than any other, it was her favorite Latin phrase of all and it meant 'don't let the bastards grind you down' but it brought back her fighting spirit, even now in the face of the insurmountable situation she would not give up and her body still stood there thinking, forever thinking, of a way, any way, any way at all, of how to get out of here.

The noise of arguing is heard and a fight is breaking out between two kids as they come down the stairs entering the front room, the face of the oldest child goes pale almost white as the color drains out of him, fear stretching his eyes wide and making his voice tremble as he looks to the computer and where his mum is sat slumped in the seat in front of it, shaking with terror as he knows something is awfully wrong. 'Mum?' A nudge to the lifeless body evokes no response and even the smaller kids are now quiet as they too realize something is not right, a second nudge causes the body to fall with a thump to the floor, lying awkwardly slumped, dead eyes transfixed in an unseeing stare, the screams echo round the house so loud all the world is ripped apart by the anguish erupting from the children.

No one sees the computer screen; no one sees the words that read; 'Second Life has crashed, would you like to send a report?'

~~~~~~

**Blue berry**

Splat!

'Ohh ooh' she groaned, now that's not nice, the bluey purpley gloop spreading across the lower half of the ticket, sighing she looked up at the culprit already flying away, cawing in what definitely seemed like a self satisfied manner. Reaching for a old tissue she was sure she had in her pocket she then tried delicately to pick off the gunky mess. She tried to make her mind up if this still counted as good luck, after all if it was supposed to be good luck when they dropped a poo on you, then surely she could claim that this was a mess dropped and so came under the heading of good luck, she smiled and thought 'well its good enough for me' and went into the phone booth to check what she had already seen in her mind as her winning numbers,

Her hands trembling as she puts down the phone, fighting back an urge to jump about screaming 'yes! Yes!, eyes glued to the ticket as she constantly goes over each beautiful, winning number, her brain already daring to think of the million ways to spend, spend, spend.

The smile on her face now huge, and her excitement almost uncontainable, she walked down the road clutching at her lucky ticket, so many wonderful ideas coming to her , so many things she could now achieve and , oh my god, she could finally pay off all her debts, this money meant real freedom, from the drudgery of her life, the depression of unpaid debts, all the stress now lifted from her and, 'oh brilliant,' she thought excitedly to herself, she could go buy things, lots of things, she almost laughs to herself as she realizes her mind cant even decide on what things enough to put a name to them, vague images of new clothes, shoes and other delights too numerous to mention, are forming in her mind, but it all gets collectively known as things to buy, her mind now racing, rushing, in an excited mess, a whirl of plans and ideas all swimming round in her brain, giddy thoughts of self indulgence afforded only by the very rich, like a washing machine seen full of clothes and each sock as it churns round another idea saying you can afford me now, each shirt a new plan for spending, a holiday, a dress to be bought, a house! Maybe she should buy a house...

A huge impact on the side of her was felt but only in a surreal kind of way, the fact that the world seemed to have gone quiet did filter through to her psyche but the whole idea of being laid in the road was not part of her immediate awareness, vague noises did seem to infringe on the edges of her hearing, were there screams? Maybe someone crying? She wasn't sure, still as she gazed at her excellent lucky lottery ticket she went back to her musings on the many, many, things she would enjoy buying, the thought fading from her along with her soul, the smile stayed though, etched on her face forever .

"We've lost her", said one of the ambulance guys, "ok get her into the van" replies the other, gently the trolley is lifted in to the back of the ambulance, its sirens blaring as it goes on its journey, people who had been stood around begin to disperse, wiping the tears and shock from their faces, 'she just stepped out' is heard time and again, inside the ambulance one of the paramedics sees the small piece of paper gripped tightly still in her hand and mutters "what's this?", "dunno av a look see if its important" responds other guy, gently trying to open up the small piece of paper he reads the words

Today's Task;-Imagine you have had something really nice happen to you'

~~~~~~

**Buck**

Walking down the road with a frown that seemed to permanently live on his face Buck noticed with some annoyance a mangy looking cat across the road staring at him, he scowled and attempted to kick a stone at it muttering under his breath various insults about cats and the general unfairness of life, well not just life but his life and the complete lack of anything good in it.

As he walked he didn't notice much, certainly not the empty feeling of the houses around him, the lack of suburban ambience that goes with lived in streets, this place had sad looking deserted houses, no kids running around shouting, fighting, no mums screaming 'shut up' or 'put that down' or 'get off that', no dogs sniffing at disgusting messes on the floor trying to decide if it was good enough to eat, then thinking 'it exists therefore I can eat it', no instead, as usual Buck walked head down with his usual grimace of not just disappointment but a complete belief in how bad his life was, no job, no money, no girlfriend, no prospects of job/money/girlfriend, no bloody life,' for Christ's sake ' his mind says with venomous bite 'no one even calls me by my proper name, how on earth am I supposed to command any kind of respect when no one can even calls me by my real name ?'. Bucks name given at birth happened to be Roger, but since as far back as he can remember everyone had called him Buck on account of some almost legendary character from the telly years back known as Buck Rogers, the name was bad enough, the idea everyone called him that was worse, but the fact that his kid brother would run around after him saying 'beedly beedly' would always seriously get on his nerves.

He scowled even more to himself as if pushing the limits of how far he could get his face to look miserable, 'my whole life is just one big no ' he thought shaking his head which in itself confirmed the very 'no-ness' about his whole existence.

By now, though he hadn't realized it, the houses were petering out, first it had just been the odd gap in the street where a house had once stood but now it looked like he was actually coming to the end of the row of dilapidated homes, they were nothings more than echoes of some distant past now, just memories of a family, of a time when this area had employment, had a future, had sounds and smells of life within the now peeling walls and crumbling plaster, now the plant kingdom was reclaiming its land, growing in and over the missing roof tiles, growing through the broken windows, tendrils snaking up walls growing into the house, sprouting leaves is the only decor now, but all this imagery is lost on Buck, whose feet keep walking on and on, he doesn't even notice where he is going his head filled with abject misery at his futile existence.

His feet almost trip an a clump of grass that is part of the silent army of growth marching, albeit slowly, through this place of what was once a place with the human ants of production making busy with all manner of seemingly important jobs, now long gone, this makes him look up and he thinks at once 'where on earth am I?' looking around at what seems to be an abandoned industrial estate, his eyes actually looking and seeing what's around him for the first time in a long time, he sees a few old dilapidated warehouses, broken doors hanging off, no wind to make them creak or flap about, an eerie silence covers everything with a blanket of surreal stillness, grass and weeds pushing relentlessly up through patches of concrete and tarmac, proving these pathways are not as impenetrable as once thought, showing the perfect example of the patience mother nature has in abundance when waiting to reclaim what is rightfully hers.

His head turning idly this way and that, taking in the desolate scene, just as the question begins to hover in his mind about what to do next his eye is caught by a glimpse of metal just inside one of the warehouses, a complete lack of anything else to do that day turns his decision to investigate into a conscious act and he walks towards the half open door of the warehouse, tentatively he pushes the door a little more open enough to squeeze in and blink his eyes in the darkness inside, walking forward with faltering steps he jumps startled mid step as the door behind has swung shut with a bang, shaking his head at his nervousness which had crept up on him with a silent stealth and now took him quite by surprise, 'nervous? There was nothing to be nervous about' he told himself just a manky old warehouse that been forgotten by the world.

His eyes adjusting to the gloom he walks again towards the dull metal and murky glass object, the more he looks at it and strains his eyes to make out its shape in the dank inside of this now seemingly oppressive warehouse, the more he thinks it looks like a helicopter without its blades, odd he thought 'why is there a an old broken helicopter type thing left here to rot?' but then, he miserably returns to character, 'everything is left to rot these days'.

Drawing a finger along the dust laden side of the vehicle, leaving a trail where his finger has drawn a line in the dirt he approaches the front, glass domed windows reveal inside a cockpit with rows of buttons and other instruments found in this type of aircraft, his interest aroused further and dare he say, something to actually take his mind off the bleak outlook of his life, his fingers find the door handle and he pokes his head inside, which although at first glance seems as dirty as the outside, something about the seats and control panels suggest recent use or at least not quite as much dust, intrigued he climbs and sits in the pilots seat, it's a snug fit and he settles himself back into the surprisingly comfortable seat, his eyes peruse the controls and his fingers begin to explore and here and there gently to touch the different buttons, he almost smiles at his new found little adventure and he quite forgets the warehouse with darkness enveloping his every move, he forgets the abandoned industrial estate and for a moment is carried along with this experience, his mind slightly unsettled yet refreshingly stimulated his nervousness is there but ousted out of the way by his eager curiosity and he reaches out a little shyly to an unknown, to him anyway, emotion believed to go under the name of joy.

He lets his fingers rest on what appears to be the largest and therefore, his mind argues, the most important of all the buttons and he thinks 'where is the harm in pressing it?' after not even a moments deliberation he does and jumps as a shudder runs through the machine jolting him into an sudden reality that this thing could be still working, then a panel on the controls lights up and the words scroll by in red led lights, 'Patented Time Machine guaranteed to take you on an adventure of a life time ' he blinks back his surprise and smiles in disbelief, 'yeah right, this must be some kind of toy' then his mouth struggling but finally connecting to a brain that is thinking 'hmm all this smiling is gonna lead to trouble, I am just not used to using these muscles, experiencing this frame of mind, its all a bit positive, miserable is what I do and I do it good, I know where I am with miserable, frowning is a talent I have honed to perfection', nevertheless the smiles stays dancing on his lips and he surprises himself as he thinks, 'ahh what the hell, might as well press this button next,'.

While he does so next the scrolling words light up another little space and he sees numbers moving strangely. The numbers he was quite sure were on today's date, 'but probably just my imagination I cant be sure,' he knows though that thought is going to stay with him now, lurking in the background of a mind that keeps insisting on being logical, watching the numbers as they move, he notices that if it is a date is progressing forward, kind of like, well, into the future', according to the numbers the current date is now 12 January 2010

'aahh that would only be a year ahead then' he mumbles to himself, he wonders when it will stop or if he is supposed to like pick a date or something. A small laugh escapes as he thinks ' I am so not used to being in these new fangled time machines' he scrutinizes the controls, not finding anywhere where he should pick a date to enter or indeed any control he can make sense of, it is all quite unlike any kind of control he has ever seen before, but then he has never flown a plane or helicopter, not even in a flight simulator, looking up he realizes that shutters have come down over the windows and a dim light has filled the inside of the helicopter, the shuddering which had been quite small before was growing to body jerking proportions, he was becoming quite alarmed and the smile was being replaced that old familiar feeling of nervousness, and indeed it would seem that a small monster with an evil grin and going under the name of fear had crawled into his stomach, making it lurch and cause him to think twice about this little adventure he had embarked upon.

Frantically he searches for some kind of seatbelt and finding one fastens it and sinks back into his chair thinking 'my god what am I doing?' the world had started to return to him in no small way, the fact that he was playing with some old machine in an derelict warehouse filled his mind and images of boys coming to sticky ends because they played with something they shouldn't have in some place they shouldn't be, his distraught mind turned over scenes of boys dying in fridges in old yards and he at once began to reprove himself.

His alarm now turning to panic he begins to hit the control panel in a desperate attempt to turn thing off he is now frantic enough to admit he is scared 'and that's quite damn scared' he thinks to himself and his thumping on the control panel suddenly stop everything, the shuddering stops, the numbers stop, the red L.E.D. lights stop scrolling and with some relief he returns to a near normal state as he thinks 'thank god for that' his eyes are drawn to the numbers and he sees them saying 2491 and for some reason this number means something but he cannot remember what it is.

A puzzled look on his face as he tries to remember then he notices the shutters are slowly rising up again and he peers out through the widening gap to see what can be made of the gloom of what he assumes to be the warehouse, but instead his eyes are greeted with a dense blackness only broken in places by the odd twinkling light. He frowns again and peers closer to the window and thinks to himself 'errmmm that looks like ermm well deep space', he looks down, and his brain is now not at all sure what to do next, it tries to grapple with the incoming information and is not able to make sense just yet so takes it in what it hopes is some kind of order, starting with visuals.So looking out the window shows deep space. Hmm. Looking at the control panel the date, if that's what it is' says 2491. Hmmm. Again the brain takes some deliberation into putting into any kind sense these facts. Outside is deep space. It's the year 2491. Ermm where is the warehouse? No warehouse. Hmmm. Where is ermm everything? No everything. Hmmm. Where is the Earth? No Earth. Why is it is dark? Why are there stars? Deep space equals stars. Darkness equals no sun. So deep space, no sun, no earth, it's the future.

The future equals space, no sun, no earth, the future equals nothing. All the facts come together at once and crash into his brain in much the same way a brick wall crashes into an out of control car, the sharp edged splintering of the glass fragments of reality slice into his brain in one staggeringly blinding assault.

After the back flip his brain has took, over the sheer enormity of there being no earth no anything, he tries hard to just think rationally, but his brain has kind of given up and gone A.W.O.L. slowly turning to jelly with the facts of what appear to be the future of mankind, he tries to work out instead in how many years this will happen, as always with the human mind it finds solace in working out a mundane fact rather than cope with the glaringly obvious truth, it comes up with; Buck Rogers realizes that in roughly five hundred years time there will be nothing, absolutely nothing, no humans, no earth, nothing.

The fear monster inside him, like a cat, kneads his stomach and makes itself comfortable, its in for the long haul, its gonna relax and enjoy the ride, feeling the stomach churning fear grab him he doesn't know what to do, he knows cant stay here in the future, there's nothing here, go back? Back to what? An Earth that has no real future, But he can't stay here, after all he is going to get hungry soon, hunger? How can he think about food at a time like this? he slumps even further down in his seat and the fear monster purrs with delight as the terror rages through Buck, his head drops to his hands and he groans, 'oh god what on earth to do' surges through his brain the words repeating themselves over and over, Earth? What earth?

He almost laughs but the sheer amount of unthinkable incredible horrifying situation that lies in evidence before him takes over again, 'oh god go back and tell everyone? tell them all; 'hey enjoy cos its only gonna last another 500 years' but then they probably going to think oh well that's alright then we got 500 years yet'.

A vague strain of a tune, apparently by someone once formally known as prince floats through his head except this time it sings 'gonna party like its 2491' and the faintest of smiles attempts to creep back on his face, 'gotta go back I suppose'. Yet somehow that thought fills him with dread, even though this future will not actually affect his own unless he was planning on living five hundred years, but can he, will he, be able to carry the burden of knowing this future and not tell anyone? Is it his duty to tell anyone? Or leave them all in happy ignorance?

Still undecided and almost thinking this is too big a decision for him alone to make, he timidly presses a button, he doesn't even know what button he is pressing, his brain by now nearly mush with the sheer impact all this has had on him, the juddering of the machine lulls him into some kind of non state now, not able to think at all he stares as the numbers appear to go backwards. He vaguely wonders if they will go back to the date he set off at or will it take him somewhere else?

No longer feeling anything, all his emotions spent, he just accepts whatever fate throws at him, after all he has seen there is no future, this thought whirling round and round his brain, no future, no future. After a while the numbers stop it is 2009 again, January, he is back where he started, it means nothing to him now, though nothing does, the shutters slowly and quietly raise back up and reveal once again the murky interior of the warehouse, he opens the door and falls to the floor and just for a moment gathers his breath, then walking like some kind of automaton he staggers blindly towards the door of the warehouse and opens it.

The sun outside hits him in the face and he shields his eyes and staggers out, looking with renewed eyes on to the grass, the weeds even, life itself striving to push forward, forward to what though? Complete annihilation? again his brain reels back into his skull, hiding from the idea of having to tell anyone what he has seen and yet knowing they wont believe and still feeling like duty bound to say, wondering if this is what its like for those people who claim to have seen God. He starts a small laugh' bubbling up from deep inside and gaining strength until it erupts into maniacal laughter and he collapses on the broken disused concrete clutching his painful sides as the laughing over takes his body, retching as the insane laughter escapes from him and embraces the whole moment, after all 'if ya dont laugh ya gonna cry ', and he does, laughter turning in a second to whole sobs wracking his whole being as his soul cries for mercy to a god he is quite sure doesn't exist and if he did then surely it must be him who plans the eradication of everything. That's it, his brain happy now its found someone to blame, its Gods fault, God planned it all, and with that the sobbing comes to a stop and he lays for a while staring glassy eyed any sensible thought no longer able to enter his brain.

After a while Buck gets to his feet and staggers onwards, he doesn't know where to and just lets his feet do their own thing, turning into one of the derelict houses he sees an old sofa and his body gratefully sinks down into it and somewhere in his detached state it slightly registers the sound of some voices but he no longer cares, no longer can he even bothered to hold open his eyes and sinks into unconsciousness as the shock takes full control of him.

'See if 'e got any money on 'im', says one voice. 'Is 'e out cold?' says another. 'Nah dunno, don' care,' ''it im if 'e looks like 'e gonna giv' us trouble', says a third voice,

first voice chimes in,' 'it 'im anyway', then laughs in such a way as to suggest he is not evil as much as never having been human, a crunch as teeth are broken and a dull thud as fist hits a body that offers no resistance,' 'Got nowt' says voice one, 'Let's go find us some money' says the second gruff voice and the voices wander off leaving the lifeless body of Buck alone in the neglected house.

'oway, 'urry up 'a young lad shouts to his friends as he runs along, 'coming, 'onestly wot you so excited about anyways?' one of his young friends say, 'well come and see' says the young lad, skipping, running and sometimes jumping, the exuberance of seven young lads happy and living life to the full, getting into scrapes running around generally having fun, all young enough to not know enough to worry bout life and its pitfalls, all happy with just having a bacon sarnie and grubby, scuffed knees after some adventure, they throw stones at broken windows as they run along and pick up sticks as they haphazardly make their way down to the old industrial estate.

'I made it like ages ago' says the young lad running ahead, 'Aww blake you said you was gonna bring me 'ere if you was gonna make it'replies one if his friends, 'Yeah but I wanted to make it on me own dint I, I dint want no interference from the likes of you,' Blake grins from ear to ear seeing the young lads frown, 'anyways I wanted to show it off to yer now so come on 'urry up,'

They all run towards the nearest warehouse and push open the door, laughing as the youngest one jumps when the doors swings shut behind them, the warehouse rings with their shouts of 'this it then?' And 'what ya gonna call it? The SS enterprise?' again laughter resounds in the air, 'Nah it's a time machine init! says Blake proudly 'I made it from this ole helicopter that was left here and I took out the bits from me game of Dr Who our mam got me,' he opens the door 'look' he says 'that's the bit wot says time machine and look I took the number counter thingy then I got real clever'. 'oh yeah' says the one who, at 12 years old quite obviously thinks he is the leader of the pack and doesn't jump about as much as the others, 'yeah I made this from the screens look' they all look to some old, quite large, monitor screens placed around the helicopter, three in all, one to the front of the helicopter, one to either side, 'they show space n stars n stuff when the shutters goes up and look' he says 'see when you push the button it rocks and stuff,' some of them climb in, 'and these shutters come down then when the numbers stop, they always stop at 2491, dunno why, I fink that's all the numbers there was on the counter but the shutters come up and the screens play some stars stuff I programmed in to the puter'

They all gasp, not wanting to admit this was quite a good game yet it was so easy to tell they were impressed 'Yeah but what 'bout the sun 'n' earth 'n' stuff where's that?' 'Well I 'ad made them but haven't got round to putting them up yet I wus gonna hang them over there'; he points to some hooks that can be seen if you squint in the gloom. 'Yeah lets 'ave a battle' one of the lads cries and he swings the globe that is the Earth and another shouts 'yeah battle on' and grabs the Sun, they swing the orbs together to the glee of their friends and whoops and shouts fill the air as the orbs collide 'yeah', ' kaboom' the lad shouts as the orbs crash together and the Earth orb breaks, the pieces shatter and fall everywhere 'it's the end of the world' shouts one boy in a mock theatrical voice.

At the same moment in St Marys hospital the life blinks out of the eyes of 'Buck' |Roger Whiteside, leaving a smile on his face as he dies and the nurse notes the time ready to fill in the certificate, his last fleeting thought was 'they don't deserve to know, let 'em all die in ignorance, I am never gonna tell them, its Gods plan anyway, so it's all 'is fault!

~~~~~~

**Cliff**

"Cliff?" A pause, listening intently for a reply, hearing nothing she calls again, this time a slight anxiousness edging into the call; "cliff!", again the pause, filled this time with a nervous hope, yet nothing is heard, she bites her lip, her head already starting to hurt with the now familiar stress headache she was prone too, sighing deeply she worries that here is yet another occasion her son has offered for her to practice her patience.

As she trips over an abandoned toy train, lying forlorn and broken on the grubby kitchen floor, she knows despite her best intentions she will be angry when she finally finds him. Wanting desperately to find that inner calm that other mothers seem to have, wanting to appear serene, she knows in reality she will come across as crabby, an overworked, unappreciated, impatient, mother, this thought alone is enough to depress her, yet it is crowded in by what feels like another thousand thoughts all bearing down on her in a tidal wave of eagerness to drown her in the stresses of her daily life.

"Cliff!!" by now the shout has become a demand, as if by the very tone of her voice the world can and will obey her, unfortunately though, the world, and cliff, it would appear aren't listening. Cursing, she stomps around the kitchen, angrily putting away discarded toys, flinging rubbish into an already overflowing bin and swearing loudly as the dirty wrappers fall back out, she slumps despairingly into an old chair, her head buried in her arms as she lets life and all its little irritants swim around her, her only thought right now being 'stop the world i want to get off;'

Enough time slips by for her to have become calm, regaining her self-control, she decides to stop wallowing in self pity and go out looking for that errant son of hers. Mentally she begins to calculate how much it may cost this time to repair the item he has most assuredly broken, or placate the neighbor to whom the broken object belonged, 'oh god' she thought 'please let it only be one, I cant afford more than one offended neighbor.'

Trudging across a garden strewn with broken and uncared for toys, she steps out into the deserted street, sighing once again she begins the long process, as it usually turns out to be, of looking for her offspring. Her head bowed as she notices in the distance, stood at their door a couple of women, arms crossed insolently against the world, they watch her pass by, tutting and shaking their heads, she feels their admonishing stares burn into her back. 'No point in asking them' she thought, 'they would be praying she never found her son again', she hated it when thoughts like this crowded her mind, not wishing to dwell on the numerous occasions her son had given them just cause for such indignation and she trudges on.

Pondering slightly whether to actually shout his name again, she turns into a wide avenue, trees lined up down either side casting a much needed shade on this heat dried street, the road itself seemed as if to be cracking under the relentless persistence of the blistering hot sun, her ears prick up at the sound of a gate creaking on its hinges, slowly swinging to its close with a bang that makes her jump, breaking through the haze of silent reservation she had adopted so many times, whenever she had to come find which misadventure her son had enjoyed this time, so many times she took her purse in order to offer recompense to whichever person her son had used for his entertainment, snapping back to reality with the bang of the gate, old and broken it opened to a unkempt, barren garden, she hated to see a wasted garden, why have such a space and leave it to rot ? Why not take the advantage of being able to plant some flowers or shrubs even if you can't be bothered looking after flowers? It didn't cost much and always looked better.

Her eyes catch the sight of a broken window and knowing this to be at least one sign that her son could have been here, she trudged wearily up the path to knock on the door; already practicing the apologies she knew must surely be needed. Her knock was not needed on this door however as it opened slowly in front of her, as she approached, an old man, showing her a toothless grin, nodded to her and she began to say 'my son ...' but the words stuck in her throat as the old man grinning and nodding to her roughly grabbed her hand and lead her round to the back of the house, his rotten breath almost overpowering her as he mutters repeatedly 'your son, yesh yesh, your son', her face wrinkling in disgust but her manners forbidding her to say anything, she meekly followed, then a gasp is heard as the man giggling in a remarkably unnatural way pushes her down what seemed a very deep hole, with a crash and a disturbing splintering sound she lands at the bottom bruised and scratched, looking up to hear the fading laughter of the old man she cries out to see the hole being covered over. "Mom?" a faint voice tugs at her heart strings. Cliff?" she replies

In the small town of Robertson, lying far beyond the reaches of most folks, in Southern America, they are proud of their low crime rate, especially proud of their school attendance being 100% and they smile with delight should anyone ask them about how pleasingly well their children behave. Of course no ever comments on the street where the old Mr Grey lives and no ever mentions the state of his garden.

No one ever heard of either Cliff or his mum again either.

~~~~~~

**Don't leave me**

The teas spoon had the most intricate and beautiful carved/molded end to it. She wasn't sure if it would be referred to as carved when the spoon was clearly solid silver. 'Where did you find it?' he asked, a pause in the conversation and a tangible warmth envelopes the atmosphere 'down by the river in that field you know the one with the old oak tree in it, think its been there like a hundred years or maybe more' she smiled to herself as she recalled the events of the afternoon, and oh what a glorious afternoon it had been. She was so sure the young man responsible for the near permanent grin on her face would be calling her soon, well it had better be soon or she would feel the need for a sulk coming on. Still smiling though she knew she could never sulk at him or be mad at him if she wasn't careful this kind of relationship would be labeled love.

Love, the very word set off her excited stomach twisting in knots and her head feel dizzy oh how sweet and giddy the feeling of first love was she didn't even realize her hand had reached up to her lips and her fingers lightly traced her bottom lip 'Ahem' the tall guy clears his throat and promptly brings her back from the love filled haze of her recollections of the field, having now transformed into a place of magic, forever to be embroidered with a golden glow, the flowers more colorful, bright vibrant colors accenting and complimenting the emerald green of the grassy field, the sky with no clouds only the most perfect azure blue unbroken and complete, and just the shining golden sun permeating the whole of the scene with rich golden hues lending an edge of pure magic to what could only be described as the most perfect day, the gold settled on every flower one every blade of grass enthusing it with life force strong enough to be almost tangible and wrapped its golden rays around the couple in love and 'ahem! For gods sake woman you aint gonna be no use to me 'til you has wiped that damn silly grin off your face! Now work! Please?' her boss had spoke the command that should be heeded and she returned to her office still holding the spoon in her hand and her mind still floating away on the dream of the field of flowers.

On her desk lay some papers and forms and she could not raise the motivation to even look at them. As she contemplated how to bring back some kind of incentive to approach anything that resembled work, she realized she still had the tea spoon in her hand and as she sat down at her desk she began to admire its highly detailed workmanship, the bowl of the spoon was ornately decorated and the silver had very little tarnishing, but the end, well that was a piece of art. She looked closely at it now and scrutinized the detailing and saw the lettering, peering closer to work out the words she came to the realization that the words said' don't leave me' 'hmm' she muttered 'that's odd but kind of sweet' the figure that seemed to be above the words seemed to be a little girl, the face was incredibly meticulous in its representation. It wasn't too much of a stretch of the imagination to see this little girl in color, the rosy glow to her cheeks , the folds of her dress, long and covered in lace this was the perfect ideal Victorian cherub faced little girl. Her fingers gently tracing the contours of the delicate, exquisite silver girls face and then two things happened simultaneously both making her jump yet only one would stay with her for the rest of her life. The first was the door to her office opening and the boss person rudely and gruffly commenting about how work would be a good idea and the second which literally happened as the first made her jump was the tiny almost imperceptible movement of the girls face.

'Yes, ermm, yes sir, work, yes,' was the garbled reply to the boss yet all the while unable to take her eyes from the handle of the spoon she was perturbed, frowning at it now and nearly willing it to move again, she was sure it had, but it was like a movement at the corner of your eye, there but when you turn your head to see, there is nothing, the superb detailing stayed exactly still and superb, nothing seemed to move yet as her eye checked every minutiae of the silver girls face, she gasped and jumped back and dropped the spoon, she had known it had moved! And here was the proof; the bonnet the girl had been wearing was now moved from her head! It was more on the back of her neck having fallen behind it to rest on her shoulders.

'Ow!' she shouted as she bumped her head on the desk above her, she had to find the spoon again the shock had made her drop it and now looking all round the floor under her desk she just couldn't see it anywhere! She was beginning to feel exasperated, the day had turned from the most wonderful truly perfect encounter with the most gorgeous guy in the whole world to this; scuffing her knees on the rough, cheap carpet in her office looking for some blasted spoon.

She tried to be quick, not wanting the boss person coming back in and reminding her yet again of what she really should be doing, but in a small office that was pretty much bare she felt there weren't many hiding places for a tea spoon. Having exhausted the search of the floor she sat in her chair and sighed, well, lovely though it was, the spoon would have to remain a lost and interesting conversation piece because she had no idea where it had gone.

She was finally going to turn on her computer check out the day's workload possibly even look like she was doing some actual work when her eye caught the glint of sliver. There it was, she knew it had to be here somewhere after all there was nowhere for it to go and it had somehow fallen under the one filing cabinet in here, bending down to retrieve it the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she shivered. 'huh' supposed to be someone walking over your grave that' she mumbles quietly to herself.

Picking up the spoon she went to dust it off automatically even though the office never really got dirty she gasped again and squinted closely at the end of the spoon, puzzled she turned around and could see no other spoons or anything on the floor in the office, she checked again under the cabinet. This had to be the spoon, yet, it couldn't be. It really couldn't be. It had the same gorgeous finely detailed bowl and beautiful engraving in pretty delicate swirls up the stem but at the end where all the words and pretty girl were, there was nothing, just and end of a spoon. Oh sure there was some nice engraving but no words, no girl, no dress, no nothing.

Her face still grimaced in puzzlement she sat down and turned the spoon over and over, not that it would bring back the girl but she couldn't help it, where had it all gone? The only explanation was this was another spoon, but what were the odds on another silver teaspoon in the office? And if that was the case then where was the spoon that she had gone? And why was this one completely the same up until the end part? Too many questions and too long a day made for a headache and she put down the spoon worked half-heartedly for a while on some forms and made to leave early for the day.

The field really was delightful, the sort of field that featured on an expensive photographers portfolio of landscape portraits. It was perfect green grass spotted with beautiful, colorful flowers that seemed to accent the field not swamp it as if the whole field the whole scene was in fact designed by some artist or the best landscape gardener, she idly wondered if it had been an exhibit at the Chelsea flower show in a previous life then moved here when the show was over, she could imagine Alan Titchmarsh waxing lyrical about the form and composition of the grass and how the flowers were planned exactly to mimic the way actual wildflowers would grow, the way the brook neatly edged one side of the field and the trees in the distance framed it perfectly. If someone had won the lottery or had vast amounts of money from other ways, then here they would stop and say I should really build a house here for it would nestle perfectly in this field and become the finishing touch to a near perfect picture. It would have to be a small cottage type with golden glows at the windows reminiscent of a Kincaid painting, and in all its delightfulness this field lived in her mind every single minute and she could not get the time to go quickly enough so she could be back in the fabulous field with her fabulous man if only she could move time forward she sighed to herself.

The papers were full of it, bad news, headlines shouting about how many people had died from one thing or another and she grabbed one on the way to work she wouldn't see him till later that day, but today was a new day and that always brought with it the chance she could spend some more time with him and she didn't care how long she got, any time at all would do, she would be happy just to feel his arms around her and if they made it to the field all the better.

He had left her a message to say meet him at the field this afternoon, he had visions of more fun in the sun and hoped she could make to, he walked up past the stream and hopped over the sty into the field and yes it was a truly gorgeous place to make love. He glanced up the field looking for the perfect spot to lay out the blanket, he thought he would doze for a short time whilst waiting for her to join him. Strange though he hadn't realized yesterday when they were here there was a house in the distance, how brilliant would that be? Here in all this beautiful nature the perfect spot to have a home. Out of curiosity he wandered closer. Not really sure why, he just found his feet walking towards the house. It didn't occur to him that anyone would live there, somehow it seemed too quiet. But whether they did or didn't he didn't really consider it and kept walking towards the house.

He approached the front door and it all looked a very still, like there was no life, more than that, like there never was any life here, though the house had curtains in the windows it seemed bereft of any inhabitants and the curtains seemed old, worn and faded, a little grubby they hardly covered the windows which were also murky with what seemed like centuries of neglect, this house seemed abandoned, none of the windows were open that he saw, but he went right up to the door anyway and he went to knock on it but it opened slowly in front of him. He half laughed quietly to himself; he had expected a groan or creak to have issued when the door opened it had that feel to it,

'Like a haunted house' he thought to himself with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Going inside tentatively, he said 'hello?' But not very loudly, something just didn't seem right. He felt somehow no one would be here and that no one had ever been here. 'But that's daft' he thought 'who would have put up the curtains? Someone must have lived here once. As he walked through the empty house he saw the rooms had the basic furniture required to make it a home of sorts, sparse but livable, a table and a chair, the table cloth covering the small round table was definitely old it smelled musty and it had holes in it and the chair looked dusty and he was sure he could see cobwebs he wasn't afraid of spiders but he didn't fancy the thought of sitting in a chair that had been a former home to a spider family he resumed his inspection of the house and he started to go upstairs when he noticed the sun had gone down already. 'What?' He thought 'that can't be right I only entered five minutes ago.' He ran and jumped the stairs three at a time, bounding down them in a rush for the door.

The yawning blackness in front of him threw his balance completely his mind couldn't comprehend where the field had gone, the sheer black in every direction meant he was not going to try stepping out onto what appeared to be nothing, this was a deep cold black, none of the nice adjectives like 'velvety' fitted with this black, no this was at best menacing and at worst downright dangerous he decided, holding the door handle he gingerly put his foot out an inch or two trying to feel downwards hoping he would feel something solid under his feet in a moment. A moment that didn't come, he cursed and fell backwards into the house, where he went and he sat in the dirty, dusty chair and tried to figure out what the hell was this situation he had found himself in, it wasn't easy.

She sat down at her desk and looked at her phone for around the ten thousandth time and he had definitely left a message, she was so giddy with happiness she just couldn't resist reading it again; 'meet me at field this afternoon? , it said, just that, nothing more, but that was more than enough for her heart to swoop and dive and run through hoops, yes her heart could have been a circus act all on its own today and she was supposed to concentrate on work? Like that was gonna happen! Instead she sipped her coffee and popped the newspaper on her desk and proceeded to read the front page 'body of man found in local graveyard the headlines shrieked at her 'oh crikey' she thought 'I hope it's no one I know' and turned to page five where the story was continued. 'Body of young man, not yet identified by local police, was found in grave yard, it what was first thought to be a drunk and disorderly case asleep at the foot of statue known by the locals as the silver girl,' there was a picture and she looked at it and frowned if she didn't know better she would have said that it bore an incredible resemblance the little girl on the end of the spoon, but she shook her head and scolded herself for having such a fanciful imagination. She read the rest of the details and though it didn't say who he was she did hope he hadn't died a painful death and she turned the page and digested the rest of the local news whilst enjoying her morning coffee.

She decided it was nearly lunch and she went to message him to say she would soon be there. Her fingers found it hard to text and the butterflies in her stomach all appeared to be wearing hobnailed work boots the excitement had made them dance twice as hard in her stomach, 'get a grip' she tried telling herself but love doesn't work like that and she just hoped the message made sense.

She watched the clock eagerly, willing it to hurry to lunchtime she had never been this on the edge of her seat, couldn't eat probably, couldn't even speak properly, excitedly in love before and she was amazed at the rush the sheer physical rush of emotion she felt whenever her mind touched on the idea of him, she just wanted to run to him and jump on him and near squeeze all the life out of him, then make mad passionate love forever, she smiled so big thinking about it all she was sure her face would start to wear a permanent smile, her jaws ached from smiling, but it stayed there, on her face, the smile so wide it went all the way round the back and joined at the front again. Finally the time had inched forward enough so that she could run out of the office and claim she had to be somewhere so she wouldn't have to waste time spent talking to anyone that could be time spent with him. The only thing that edged into her mind was the slight downward feeling she got when she realized he hadn't messaged her back yet but she still ran all the way out of the building and onto the car park ready to go to the ever magical field.

He didn't know how he was going to get back, he didn't know how the hell he should get out from this damn house, he had walked all round it and couldn't think of anything, every time he looked out the door it was blackness surrounding the house, no up, no down, no sideways, no way out, he had tried dropping some coins he had in his pocket in the theory of hearing when they hit a floor of any kind it would make a sound and he would be able to judge how far it was and whether it was worth him jumping, he could after all manage with a broken leg or ankle just to be out of this house and back home, he made a mental note to 'never come to the field again, and to tell her he would happily come pick her up at her house, or even work, and they could even make the relationship public, he would', and his face screwed up as he thought it, 'but he would finally let her say she was his girlfriend and then they could make love in normal places; like at home, like in a bed, not in some damn field that had mysterious houses that appear and bloody kidnap you'. He did think this sounded odd and he did think this all had to be some kind of joke, except where was the punch line? In fact what was the point to all this?

He stood stock still for a moment, he thought he heard a small, quiet, even young, voice, he listened hard and heard nothing, then again a tiny, distant voice, 'sounds like a very young girl' he thought and he looked about him, the house seemed the seem bright and sparse not even a mirror on the wall, then he had a vague recollection of a picture upstairs, he went back up and entered the first bedroom, looking around seeing the old metal bedstead covered with an aged moth-eaten quilt, a Victorian iron fireplace, dark and dusty, the grate had long since been cold and had probably not seen any kind of fire in many years, there was one wardrobe in the corner, old wooden and carved with a simple rustic design, but the end of the door had bubbled with mould and mildew clouds flourished on it, looking to the walls he saw the picture of a girl in Victorian dress, long hair and a bonnet on, it seemed as though she smiled right at him and he shuddered, 'just a picture' he told himself, he looked at the signature in the corner, leaning closer to make it out, he saw it wasn't a name it just said 'don't leave me'

Her mind raced she didn't know what to think or do, she just sat rocking back and forth, a moan sometimes escaped her lips and the kind police woman told the others to give her some space ' could I see the message he left you?' she asked her gently and numbly she handed over her phone, her brain had collapsed under the huge weight of what they had said, her mind rolled the words around but the words didn't want to sink in or seem real, 'we found his body' they had said 'we have informed his family and asked his family to indentify it and we hoped you could shed some light on his last movements' they said to her, but she had just weakly slid into her chair and couldn't comprehend anything after that, 'it cant be him' her mind begged, she looked at the policewoman her eyes burning under the tears that already were cascading down her cheeks as it filtered through, yes he was dead. The one reason she could see to live had died and she didn't know or could do anything about it. The police officer kept hold of the phone and nodded to her colleague and they put a jacket around her shoulders and asked her office co-workers if they knew where she lived and could one of them take her home.

The day had come to an end but for her life would take a while to settle back in, she was just numb for a long time, days and weeks pass but something stayed with her the whole time; the face of the little girl on the end of the spoon, 'why couldn't she wipe this from her memory?' all she wanted to do was keep memories of him in her head and to go over them constantly, she didn't want to let go of any precious moment they had had together.

She had taken time off from work and still didn't feel strong enough to go back, strong enough to keep hearing the quiet whisperings of people saying how what shame it was so young and the worst one of all was the one where they said she was still young enough to find someone else she felt her mind scream at them that she didn't want anyone else.

She hadn't gone anywhere near the field, it was too painful, but today she felt strangely compelled, it was the last place they had been together and it had been so wonderful, as she neared the field she saw in the distance a house, 'that's odd I am sure there wasn't a house' she didn't make any attempt to go in she had no curiosity burning within her to spend any time in an old insecure looking house but walked round it and looked at the windows all boarded up, it made her shudder to think of how dark it would be inside.

She came round the back and saw the next field close to where she was it was smaller than this one and framed with trees with a very still feel and peaceful feeling to it and she walked over and leaned up against the dry stone wall and looked over, it was like a small graveyard, there was only a few graves here, with elaborate grave stones and one with a very striking statue on the gravestone of a young girl in Victorian dress. It was all lovely but it had tired her out and she wanted to go home and left as the day started to turn to evening.

The group of three men and two women prided themselves on their detective work they had all the instruments and they had the knowledge that went with the instruments, the latest gadget had been a...........meter and they had come to this place to test it out, 'a small, local graveyard is the hotspot where we will spend our first night testing our new equipment' the mans voiced droned into the microphone, he had always taken this so seriously and the others mocked him for it when he wasn't there, of course none of them would say anything to his face.

They all began setting up their night's vigil and he kept doing his 'piece to camera.' 'This small graveyard is rumored to be very lively with spiritual activity and local legend has it that a young local family used to live here in a beautiful house, placed right here in this very field, burned down many years ago now though nothing remains but the legends of this place, which say the house was burned by local people and it had contained the young girl who they claiming was witch and she had caused the death of her own parents, she had punished them for going out and attending a local function, while she was left at home by herself, upon their return she had killed them and the locals all came with torches and burnt the house down, now we don't know if any of that's is anything other than folklore but there is definitely a small graveyard here and even a statue of a small girl over this one grave, so who knows perhaps tonight we are in for some good haunting, with the team here, myself and my colleagues hope to capture some really good evidence, so lets do this!' The piece to camera went well on first take and the equipment was ready to go, and after they had settled down with hot cups of tea from flasks, they hoped for a night with at least an EVP but hopefully some video evidence as well, all the meters were on and placed strategically and the group chattered among themselves. The night passed slowly and nothing really happened but come the morning they packed up and headed home.

After reviewing the footage a couple of days later the girl listening to the recordings stopped and said 'hey I think I got something,' playing the tape, very quietly it could be heard in the voice of a small child, a girls voice said.........'doooon't leeeeave meeeee,' That's brilliant a few of them said and a few high fives were heard and most went for ,lunch but not Ellie, she stayed and her friend who was still checking video tape, so she went and sat next to her, cups of tea were drank and hours passed slowly, the lunch had been and gone and the others left for home and more food, still excited from her find with EVP and eager to find more she stayed on and took over the checking of the video and after about ten minutes into the footage on one of the cameras, she saw a slight movement, she used the controls to rewind and go over it again and she saw daintiest movement of the hand of the girls statue, only a very slight movement but she kept watching and noted down the time and the movement.

Pleased with herself that she had been the one to find the evidence so far, then she saw that something must have moved the camera, it juddered and the picture was now focused on the ground at the foot of the statue and there was a young man laid there, she looked closely at the footage thinking it must have been one of the group, but no, it wasn't, this young man looked well, clean, tidy and wearing expensive clothes, 'no insult lads but ghost hunters are not known for expensive clothes and blonde hair' she thought in amusement, she looked even more closely, almost nose touching the screen and jerked back as the statue moved again and this time it was clear and definite movement the hand of the statue leaned forward and began to stroke the young mans hair, the body of the statue leaning towards him and she gasped and stared at the screen in horror, as the girl stroked his hair and then suddenly turned and looked right into camera, the shriek that came out of her mouth was enough to wake the dead and she fell back against her chair and thinking frantically what to do she tried to ring one of the group her voice not able to make much sense through the garbled voice of her fright but she got the message through about she had found evidence!

They hadn't known how to approach her, really none of them knew her personally but they knew of her, they knew she would maybe find this important and they hoped she would help to identify the man, if it was definitely the young man they thought it was, but they hoped they hadn't come too soon, what if she was still grieving? That would be so crass.

In the end a phone call had ascertained she would like to view it and would like to help, and they had gone round and told her about their work and she had tried to look interested, but ghost hunting had never been her thing and since she lost him nothing had interested her at all but if they had film of him she would do anything to see it not that she was going to tell them that, she took the films and tapes proffered to her and asked if she could review them later she was so tired now, they left after apologizing profusely and left her a number to stay in contact and phone them with anything she could help with.

She just wasn't strong enough right now and would wait till later, right now she just wanted to stare at the TV for a little longer but she knew this was procrastinating and got up, she pushed the tapes aside and picked up something labeled EVP girl and played it she clearly heard the still small voice say 'doooooooooon't leeeeeave meeeeee' and stepped back, her hand to her mouth in a gasp of horror, she was starting to tremble and her fingers were shaking as she retrieved the video tape and scared she put it in the player , the screen was static at first, then the tears started to fall as she saw him, laid there, he almost seemed asleep, then the horrified sharp intake of breath as she saw the statue of the girl lean down and stroke his hair her fingers reaching towards the screen she wanted to shout no she wanted to shout stop it but the girl had turned and her eyes look right into her it felt like she had looked right into her soul and then the girl stopped stroking his hair and leaned towards the screen, towards her, she could see the fingers coming towards her through the screen, towards her hair, she felt the girl stroke her hair, and she heard the tiny small voice say 'doooooon't leeeeeeave meeeeeeee' she succumbed to the feeling of drowning that swam over her and her head felt very heavy and she laid it down on the desk in front of her as she closed her heavy swollen eyes the girl made a swift scooping motion with both her hands towards the head and then went back in the screen. She never felt her eyes glaze over, she never felt the death steal through her mind, and she only welcomed the blackness as it enveloped her

It was a while before anyone came to the flat where she had lived so the body did lay there a while, still sat in the chair her head laid against the desk, the static had long stopped on the screen and only the blackness of the blank screen remained. Eventually though thanks to the persistence of nosey neighbors the continuance of the daily life of the universe was able to carry on and the body cleared away, all details filed away under death by ...it basically meant a broken heart that's what they would have called in the old days, they returned the tapes to the locals amateur ghost hunting group and they locked up the flat and it all would have just become part of the fabric of life, except for the day when a young couple, needing a place for privacy and enjoying the glorious weather, happened on a field, ringed by trees and spotted with the odd beautiful flower here and there in the most vivid colors, laughing and tumbling to the ground they thought they had found their own bit of paradise, 'you know' the young lad said 'if I had a whole heap of money I would build a house right there, in the field, it would be perfect.'

~~~~~~

**How did she get here?**

How did she get here? A gentle shake of her head and a puzzled frown creases her thin eyebrows. Trying to concentrate on any memory, any memory at all that would lead her to the reason, the cause as to how she got here, she wasn't even sure where here was, looking around everything seemed normal, kind of, it felt, and looked, like everything wasn't quite what it was supposed to be, like it was only a representation, not solid almost, then it came to her, like it was a movie set.

She tentatively reached forward a little, a chair was on the floor close to her, she was half afraid that if she touched it, it would crumble, it looked like a chair, but it didn't look solid, she saw her hand reach slowly in front of her, just before her fingers actually reach the chair leg she stops a moment, unsure if it wise to proceed, then biting her lip a tiny bit, she thinks to herself 'it is only a chair, it looks like a chair, it should stay being a chair when I touch it,' yet somehow she knew even as she thought that, it wasn't a fact, not least a fact that could be relied upon, sitting there with her hand outstretched though was beginning to make her arm ache, she stretched that last bit and looking through terrified eyes she saw as the chair in front of her disintegrated into a puff of powdered smoke falling into nothingness in front of her.

Her arm dropped by her side as her mind tried to assimilate the information presented to her, it was a chair, now it isn't, now it is nothing, not even a pile of powder on the floor, which it should have been considering it turned to a puff of powder in the air, her hand resting on the floor she knew it felt cold beneath her fingers, she could feel the cold, yet already her mind was telling her but was it really a floor?

Her mind reeled for a moment; she found it hard to stem the tears burning under her eyelids, where the hell was she? And what the hell was going on? Ok she thought, she forced herself to take stock, once more, looking around her she tried again to find a recognizable point, something solid she could attach familiarity to, she saw walls, not really very interesting, plaster that bubbled with neglect and damp, peeling paint, moisture dripping down in foul smelling rivulets from the top corner of one wall.

She noticed faint lettering on another wall most of it gone from age, what peeling remains there were of the letters she couldn't make it out what they said or even what color they might have originally been, her eyes travelled further around taking in another wall which contained a door, a door! Why hadn't she noticed that, she felt a surge of hope followed by a surge of energy as she staggered to her feet, stumbling over to the door almost blindly, not looking where she was putting her feet she simply had one track, to get to the door fling it open and escape this dank, fetid smelling place, get back to reality, she fell over something on the floor and the pain registers as she looks down and see s the blood seeping from a deep gash on her shin, caused by an overturned metal box, its very rusty and the cut on her leg must have gotten some of that dirt and rust in it her mind stores this information and sticks with the main idea of getting to the door, oh god yes the door! She looks up and her eyes search the wall for the door, which isn't there, rapidly she looks to the other walls, it is not there either, her mouth falls open and a moan issues forth, her only sound of denial, 'where the hell did the door go? It was there! Clearly it was there, right in front of her on that damn wall there next to the wall with the, the lettering is gone'.

Shaking her head the tears come fast and furious for a good five minutes, she beats the floor with her fists and starts to feel a surge of rebellion come through her sobbing, the rebellious feeling calms the anxiety that previously took hold of her brain and as she quietens down she resolves to not let this beat her, she rises unsteady on her feet, the pain now sharp in her leg with a dull throb behind it as she knows surely infection must be setting in, and makes her way across to the wall which until very recently had a door in it, maybe, her mind clings to the idea, if it was here once it could be again.

She sits back and holds the silver cross necklace that sits round her neck, she cradles the cross in her fingers and her eyes trace the contours of the room again, noting all the little details on the walls, she hopes to map out the room in her mind and then, should anything change, she has an original map for reference, scouring the walls for any identifying marks, she notices again the peeling paint, the damp, and mildew covered plaster, the dripping of unknown liquid creating streaks of brown down from the corner here, so that remains the same and this is duly noted on the map in her mind, right here in the corner opposite from where she is sat, the streaks of wet running down, but again its not in that corner! It's now in the corner next to where she is sat! She grips the side of her head and shaking backwards and forwards she cries out, 'no', 'stop',

Once again the defiant side to her nature refuses to succumb to this situation and thinking 'lets just go with the idea that, there is somewhere a corner with wet brown crap', she starts the mapping again,

She doesn't know how long has gone by, how many hours have passed? Or is it even days that have passed since she has been here? She isn't sure if anyone will miss her as she can't remember where she came from or how she got here, was she supposed to meet someone? Would they report it when she didn't turn up? She wasn't sure if she lived with anyone, was she married, single, did she have kids? Why couldn't she even raise an image of her self in her own mind? Would there be anyone wondering where she was? Was there anyone who missed her? Loved her? Surely she had parents? But what if she didn't, what if they had been lost, died years ago?

She hated the not knowing who she was, her eyes strayed over to the wall that some time before, was it yesterday? Was there a yesterday? Some time ago there had been a door, she knew that much was true she knew she had hurt her leg trying to reach it, she felt quite sure her leg must have recovered as it didn't seem to hurt, she automatically looked down and of course, the gash was gone, why would it be there? She laughed, the laugh turned into a giggle, which then bordered on insane cackling.

Some time later, exhausted from the hollow mirth that her mind had made her body endure, she realized the window was still there, she wasted no time this time and simply sucked up whatever energy was deep inside and lunged for it, covering the distance of the room in seconds she almost fell against the window and desperately, she flung her face up against the cold glass, not knowing, not even caring, what would be out there, her eyes searched for anything, anything at all, her mind did a double flip as she saw people! There were people out there! They could help her, get her out of here, she began to beat her fists again the glass, and she began screaming 'help', 'for gods sake help', 'please help me', why were they not looking? Why didn't they see her? She was screaming now, screaming at the top of her lungs, 'I am here!'' help me!' 'Please help me!' 'I am trapped!' 'Please help me!!'

The station was quite a busy station, trains ran from here to all parts of the country, all times of the day saw crowds of people, all dashing from one place to another, all exhibiting great purpose, all intent on getting to where they needed to be, parents with children in tow, rallying everyone together, 'make sure you have your sisters hand Agnes,' one woman insists, another takes a sweet and gives it to her yelling toddler who magically becomes quiet as the sweet lolly calms the world for them, students, young and giggling, make their way from the train, no doubt off to college, as they pass, snippets of conversation can be heard about the new teacher and the terrible fact of having to go back after the lovely long summer,

The caretaker doesn't hear any of it as he has his MP3 player inserted into his ears and he mumbles songs to himself as he mops the same bit of floor over and over, it doesn't matter whether its clean just that he looks like he is doing something, a bang is heard as the women's restroom door is flung open and a group of women all in business suits enter the restroom, they clamor for the mirror getting out lipsticks and blusher or foundation and start applying their make up, none of them notice the banging, none of them hear the screaming, they only see a mirror, they only see their reflections and their pouts and their perfectly applied make up, they don't hear the sobbing come from the other side nor do they see a girl not yet old enough to think she needs makeup to go out, still happy in her own skin when her world is right , they do not see how her world is not right, they do not see her slump against the wall near the window, they do not even look back as they leave the restroom why should they? It was only a mirror, nothing more, only a mirror, to them

The next gaggle of giggling women enter the restroom and all are chattering at once about their impending evening out as they excitedly go about their business of preparing themselves before they hit the town early, 'got to get a few drinks in before we go to the club ey!', they all giggle once more, further gossip is shared and one or two them use the toilet as the others apply even more make up defying logic as to how much can be applied to one face, one smudges her lipstick as she professes to being drunk already and laughing she tries to apply it again, they all agree its time to go show the town what its missing and they try to leave in what they believe is a sexy manner, revealing that alcohol and social drugs definitely do confuse the mind as they stagger across the floor falling into each other laughing gutturally all the way, they didn't even realize that one of their number was still left in the toilet and as she finishes snorting whatever white substance she had laid on the edge of the toilet cistern and giggling she wipes her face, smearing her lipstick and lurches unsteadily through the cubicle door and tries to focus on her face in the mirror, she looks at the mirror puzzled and laughs 'hey you lot! I must be way off my head! This doesn't even look like a mirror to me! looks like a bloody window!' she nearly collapses against the sink with laughter and can't even catch her breath, it slowly sinks into her befuddled consciousness that the others have gone and she looks round and mutters 'the buggers have gone without me', thinking the best thing is to apply more make up and then follow after them, she looks to the mirror again,

And falls right through it

She knocks her as she lands in a crumpled heap on the other side and she yells out and rubs her head, the drugs have really got a good grip on her mind as she giggles her way through the next hour or so.

Slowly she comes right back down to earth and the pain in her head helps her realise that she is in some kind of trouble, she squints up at the wall that used to contain an window, and she furrows her brow as she tries to work where she is, she cant remember how she got here, she doesn't know where she is or where here is and she cant remember anything, she cant even remember her name or what she was doing before she came here, she gradually rises to her feet and unhurriedly walks around the room, trying to get her bearings, but she cant put her finger on it, something doesn't seem right, like it seems surreal, like nothing in here is solid.

She looks at the old wood worm eaten table and she knows as she softly tries to stroke along the edge with her fingers that it will crumble and it does, with a puff of powdered smoke it disappears, her eyes wide now as she starts to panic, she doesn't know how to get out of here and she desperately wants to get out, she goes over to what looks like a cupboard in the corner and opening the door she screams piercingly as the bones fall at her feet, her eyes are wild and her brain no longer makes sense of anything, it takes a while and the sobs have racked through her body, then gradually she takes in her surroundings and she wipes her face and eyes, with a deep breath and stroking her temples as a headache begins to pulsate there, regaining her composure she kneels down and sees the necklace round the part she would have assumed to be the neck, its hard to tell as the bones have mostly crumbled, they seem to have been there for such a long time, she gently caresses the filigree necklace and looks at the silver cross and says a silent prayer to any god that may be listening to help her escape.

But no one has ever left the room.

~~~~~~

**The Alley**

A decision comes to you, you know that if you carry on walking this way, it will take ages to get home, so you opt for the not so appealing, but much quicker route that involves the 'scary' alleyway, already without your compliance your feet have turned into the alleyway and you think, 'oh well lets go for it'.

As you walk over the broken old cobbles and stare into the distance your heart is starting to sink, but you console yourself with the idea of being home that much quicker, looking down the alley, winding and dirty, already murky in this evening gloom, you shiver a little attempting to pull your coat closer around you, your eyes wander to the only working light, your mind noting the light emitting from it is not good light, not clear and illuminating like light should be, but kind of murky tinged with yellow like old light, not fresh, but stale, it adds a dank and kind of fetid atmosphere to this already decidedly unattractive alley, then as your brain is saying 'don't come this way ever again'.

Your heart jumps into your mouth as you notice that over there is a figure under the murky light, a man leaned up against the lamp post, everything about him is dark ,wearing a long dark overcoat, a trilby hat pulled down over his eyes, he is smoking a cigarette. You watch in morbid fascination as he slowly raises it to his lips, your heart is beating fast now and you curse yourself for choosing to come this way, you're more than half way to admitting to yourself you're scared, this man is evil, every pore of your being is warning you don't go near him, yet your feet are striding purposefully down the alleyway.

Sweat rising to your brow you feel sure that he is going to attack you, cause you pain, not sure of how or why you just instinctively know that somehow this man means you harm and you are desperate to run back the other way, but your feet carry you forward, your heart now clamoring against your chest, as if trying to batter its way out and escape, as you draw so close to him you could almost touch him, you are white with fear, knowing for certain that if you pass him the attack will happen, yet you are now in the same breathing space, sharing that same murky yellow light from the old decrepit lamppost, you have already instinctively lowered your head, your mind somehow thinking that if you look him the eye it will be some kind of challenge, an invitation to 'do your worst', in an near blind state of terror you realize you have nearly passed him, nothing has happened! You raise your eyes going to perhaps nod an acknowledgement of gratitude for not having attacked you and your brain does a back flip, as the space before you is empty! No one is there! No man, no evil character waiting to cause you untold pain, your feet are rooted to the spot as you try and digest the information or lack of information it would seem, in front of you, then; the light blinks out. You are alone. In the dark. In the alleyway,

Your feet still stuck to the spot as your brain tries to gather itself together, 'oh my god how the hell did i end up in this situation?' you think to yourself, then for a moment the world goes deathly quiet as you hear the sound of; someone breathing. the sound that drives fear right through your soul is the sound of someone breathing very close to you. Right over your shoulder, deep heavy breathing filled with menace and you know it's him.

The world crashes in on you as you hear him whisper your name, blindly panicking you suddenly find that at last your feet remember how to function, your running in a mad state, crazy with fear, running through the streets, knocking into cars, you don't hear the horns screeching at you, the curses from the drivers, your brain wont function ,your heart beats as a fist against your chest, you cant stop, can't think, only getting home is of the utmost importance.

Finally you realize as you slam the door behind you, your home, safe, slumped against the door, sliding down to the floor your body is wracked by great heaving sobs as the waves of fear have taken over your body, letting it all wash over you, you shut your mind to the world.

After some time you are calm enough to start to think again, you rise to your feet and wander through your flat, not sure whether to phone someone and talk about this or just head for the kitchen, the kitchen seems more inviting and you go to put the kettle on deciding that a good cup of tea is the best way to cope with all this, you manage to raise a weak smile as you think of the English way of dealing with everything in life is a good cup of tea, having put the kettle on and got a cup out, you turn to get the sugar and a clattering crash is heard as the glass jar splinters into non existence, smashing at your feet, your reason for dropping the sugar is stood in front of you, there in the kitchen, your kitchen, your home, supposedly safe, is him, the guy from the alley way, he smiles showing dirty teeth and a chilling menace, as he comes towards you, mercifully blackness envelopes you and your consciousness slips away.

The man looks down at the body laying prone on the floor in front of him, gently using only the tips of his fingers he closes the now dead eyes, rising he smiles to himself almost as if complimenting himself on a job well done, adjusting his hat and stepping out in to the cold night air the Reaper turns and closes the door.

~~~~~~

**Whisper whisper**

Tappety tappety tappety, the clicking of the keyboard keys and she was furiously typing her thoughts, the screen filling over and over, no longer caring if anyone would read or press the like button, she typed and typed, it all came spilling out, the words slowly going fuzzy but she didn't need to see what she had written she had lived it, this was her life, her mind , all embroidered on the surface of the computer screen this was her Bayeux tapestry she smiled to herself as she thought that but her fingers kept up with typing.

She wasn't even sure if it was coherent any more, the hour was late, she knew instinctively the hour was late, the house was quiet save only for the tappety tapping of her fingers on the keyboard, which would surely be warm from her constant tapping, and could you make fire from constant tapping? did it work the same way as stick rubbing but just took longer and burnt the ends of your fingers? she wasn't even concentrating on what she was typing any more, it had taken on a mind of its own the tappety tapping was just flowing through her fingers, she could paint a picture with a brush in her mouth and still the story would flow through her and communicate to the screen without her even knowing, is this ghost writing? No, they wouldn't know what to type, only her subconscious mind knows the story.

Slowly growing conscious of how quiet the immediate world around her was, she started noticing small things taking on an unnatural significance as if someone had a metaphorical highlighter and was marking them out to her, the lamp next to her growing lighter then dimming, and still she typed, the curtains moving slightly as there was a breeze, yet no window was open, and still she typed,'hmmm how could there be a movement with no breeze her head tried to turn slightly to take in what was causing this, yet her mind refused to let go of the task in hand and still she typed, the highlighter carried on showing her small details, there was a wet feeling on her face, just below her mouth, she tried to focus on where exactly, kind of from the corner of her mouth, wetness, through the fuzzy concentration she wanted to figure how and why and still she typed, through the constant tappety tappety typing she heard a tiny whisper, and still she typed, the whisper was heard again just on the edge of hearing, just outside of the understanding like when someone shouts something at you on the bus, they are outside the bus mouthing words at you inside the bus, you can hear something, but have no idea what they are saying, and still she typed, surely this story must nearing the end she wanted so much to hear what the whisper was trying to say, and yet she typed on and on, the whisper grew closer and her head desperately wanted to turn to it and listen, really listen to what it was saying, yet she typed, and typed, and finally the whisper came to her ear. And it said. 'Stop. You need to stop. And come with me. Your time has come'

When they entered the apartment they noticed the smell first, it is never nice, the smell of a long decomposed body, they went about the grisly business of taking details, all the forensic stuff, the nitty gritty business of dealing with yet another death in the city, and eventually clearing away the body, as they were leaving the scene of the crime one of the men looked back and said

'You know I could swear I heard something, it was quite difficult to make it out but you know it was like some sort of tapping noise'

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**About the author**

I am a married forty something with four kids I adore. Along with my two dogs i feel very lucky in my life. I always enjoyed writing although I only wrote for myself for a long time, recently I met some new friends and I wrote a short story for them and it received a lot of praise and made me feel confident about my writing. Thanks to the support of my friends and my lovely family I finally thought maybe I could do this and took the scary step of self publishing and that brings us to now.

It has been a steep learning curve in word processing I am now best friends with my word processing program. It proves to me that I love the writing of stories but when it comes to the formatting I go a funny color and run away. I am hoping one day enough of you kind people out there buy enough of my books that I can then afford to pay someone who isn't scared of formatting to come work for me, so there you go if you like my books and buy more then you also contribute to the employment market.

I also have a terrible addiction to smilies luckily i wasn't allowed to succumb to this in my books, you have been saved.

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