“Are you sure this is ok? We are not supposed to wander.” the Little Brother asks.
“Come on, you silly. We haven’t seen them for ages. They won’t know. And they play the most fun games”, the Older Sister replies.”There. Can you hear them now?”
A pocket full of posies;
Hush! hush! hush! hush!
All fall down!”
The Children stand in a circle their arms linked, their faces flushed as they chant their song. Their tiny feet move together in rhythm with the words. The sun dips slowly between the trees. And the trees and shrubs of the wood cast long shadows on the ground.
“All fall D-O-W-N!!!” the Little Brother and Older Sister join in the final chorus and dissolve in giggles.
“Can we have a closer look at them?” the Little Brother asks.
“S’pse so. No harm in that. Hold my hand” They move forward together careful not to make much noise.
The Children begin to link their arms together again for a second round.
“Can we play with them? I wish we could.” the Little Brother whines.
The Children start their chanting again and they move faster and faster.
“Hush!” the Older Sister pushes her brother away impatiently, entranced by the game.
“Don’t push!” He cries loudly. “You are awful to me!” He pushes her back and she falls onto a nearby bush. There is a loud rustling noise.
The Children stop their chanting and look around them. There are voices nearby and the bushes are rustling mysteriously. But they can’t see anybody.
The Brother and Sister know it’s time to leave. Forgetting their little squabble, they run back through the woods singing at the top of their voices “Pocket full of posies. Down Down Down…”. They giggle and sing as they run all the way to the cemetery at the other end of the woods.
The Children start to feel uneasy and bewildered. The sun has gone down by now. They can hear childish voices muttering something. And imaginary footsteps seemed to have crunched the leaves beneath the ground as though someone scurried past them. The wind echoes their play-song eerily “Pocket fulla posssieees, hussssshhhhh…husssshhhhh…..”
Authors Note: I remember the first (and the last) Stephen King book I read. I didn’t get past the first few pages actually. The scaredy-cat that I am, the book spooked me out big time. There was no mention of ghosts, killers or anything supernatural. But dear ol’ Stephen had banked on the one thing that can guarantee spookiness : our own imaginations. It had felt like the sky outside had grown dark, and an eerie silence had descended. The room suddenly became cold as if a Dementor had entered and sucked away all my happy thoughts. Two times, I stopped reading and tried to convince myself it was just a book. It didn’t work. Finally, for the first time in my life, I returned my book to the library unfinished.
That is the power of words.
In terms of story-telling, I have a long way to go. It always feels like all the good plots and twists have already been taken. And yet, each day I read wonderful books which reinforces my belief in people and their creativity.
Writing this creepy-sorts story is by far The Biggest Challenge I faced in terms of blogging.
Romance is romance. It’s ok even if it’s predictable, because people might still read your story for the heck of it. We are all suckers for happy endings 🙂
The Stamp Collector was do-able too, because all of us know someone old who could do with a kind smile or gesture.
And most of my other posts are of an autobiographical nature. Yes I love to write about myself 🙂
But a horror story is a whole new ball game. It must be gripping. We don’t want the readers chuckling over your tomato-ketchup gore or the white-uniform clad ghost. No it should be subtle. Let the reader’s imagination do the scaring bit, we must merely provide the rough skeleton (no pun intended) for the plot.
Do let me know how the story went. On second thought, I think I might head out to the library and take that Stephen King novel again.
Happy weekend everybody!!! 🙂