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TITLE (EDIT)
On The Other Side |
DESCRIPTION
This is a story about a young girl who is tired of being pushed around. She takes matters into her own hands...
[1,134 words] |
AUTHOR
Lisamarie Jones |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
I am 18 years old, and in October will be studying radio, film and telelvision with English. I love writing, and my ambition is to become a writer for telelvision, or a novelist.
[January 2000] |
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
lisamarie@bayly.co.uk |
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (4)
Going, Going... (Short Stories) A man commits suicide, and then realises what he's missing. [1,330 words]
Hidden Reality (Short Stories) Christina's lunch-break is not quite as it seems. [736 words]
I Closed My Eyes (2) (Short Stories) After committing suicide, a young man realises what a mistake it was. [1,356 words]
Window-Shopping (Screenplays) A window cleaner falls in love with someone she notices as she is working. How will things work out? [16,218 words]
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On The Other Side
Lisamarie Jones
On The Other Side
The world was bright that morning; she could feel it. She could feel it even before she knew she was awake, and in that limbo state, she could sense that the day was important. Once her eyes had torn themselves open, she cautiously placed one foot on the floor and pulled it back sharply, shocked at how cold the stone under her feet really was.
There was a gentle knock at the door, and it slowly opened to reveal a gaunt, lined face. "Meredith?" asked the woman behind the door. "It is time to wake up, there is much work to do."
Meredith huddled down under the blankets and mumbled, "Yes, Mrs. Campbell, I will."
Mrs. Campbell, who, along with her husband, employed Meredith to work in their tavern, sighed. For the past three years, ever Meredith’s parents had gone missing, they had trudged through the same ritual every morning. "Just see that you do," Mrs. Campbell told the girl, and left the room. As she left, Meredith could hear her coughing. The poor woman seemed to be ill.
After a moment or two of preparing herself to brace the crisp morning chill, Meredith grudgingly left her warm bed, and trotted over to the basin in the corner of the room. There was a thin layer of ice on the water, and she broke it sharply. As she washed, she began to think of the day ahead. She was excited about what was going to happen; she had been waiting for so long. Outside it was still dark, but the birds were beginning to sing, and the sun would soon rise, and once it did, her work would be constant until it was time for the tavern below to be emptied of patrons.
Mr. Campbell was waiting for her when she reached the bottom of the creaking staircase that led from her room in the attic to the lower floor. "Hurry up, girl," he growled. "I need you to get out into the woods, and pick some mushrooms, we’ve got none left." His usually red face was pale, and his eyes were bloodshot. Meredith hoped that whatever illness was about she didn’t get it.
Meredith knew by now that pleading with the man to let her wait until it was at least light outside was no use, and would only serve to increase his hostility. "Yes, Sir," she muttered, not hiding a quick glare in his direction. She dragged the door open angrily, picked up her basket from the floor, and stepped outside into the frosty countryside. Her breath hung in the air around her and she watched it before setting off on her short journey to the woods.
Meredith, at nineteen years old, was already an expert in the forest, and knew it better than she did the nearby town. She made her way to the river that tumbled its way down the hillside, surrounded by trees, and climbed carefully onto the ancient bridge that spanned the water. There were mushrooms all around the river, but the biggest, tastiest ones were on the other side.
The sun began to rise, casting its golden beams onto the river that raged across the rocks. Millions of tiny sparkles shot across the surface, illuminating the banks on either side. The bridge, old as it was, reached proudly out across the water and grasped onto the opposite side, the curve in its back pronouncing its age. This had been a favourite spot of Meredith’s father, and she often came down here to think about him, and her mother.
Shaking her head, berating herself for being far too sentimental, Meredith carried on over the bridge. One of the wooden planks that she stepped on was rotten, and it broke in two beneath her foot with a faint, dull sound. Meredith held fast to the handrail of the bridge, and regained her balance. She could see the river beneath her, its sinuous bends disappearing into the distance, and as she stood there, she wondered what it would be like to have fallen in. Would she feel anything at all, or would the cold water numb her brain before it could register what had happened? The sound of some small creature behind her shook her out of her daydream, and she quickly crossed the rest of the bridge.
The mushrooms were easy to find; within just a few minutes she had collected a whole basket, and decided to rest before heading back to the tavern, and Mr. Campbell’s criticisms. Through the leaves of the tree where Meredith had hidden from the brightness of the day, little patches of sunlight could be seen dappling the ground. She leant back against it, and revelled in being on her own. Glancing down at the heavy basket by her side, she picked up one of the largest mushrooms and inhaled its dusky scent.
The sound she had heard earlier came again, and she looked around to find out where it was coming from. From the corner of her eye, Meredith noticed a young fox slinking around in the shade. That was what was making the noise, and Meredith was glad it was nothing more sinister. The fox was a poor looking creature, who looked as though he hadn’t eaten for quite some time. Suddenly, he began to dig in and around the mushroom patch. Meredith leapt to her feet, knocking over her basket, and shooed the creature away. It was too late, however.
Meredith looked down, and saw a skeletal hand reaching up through the earth. She knelt and whispered, "Mother, I thought I’d seen the last of you!" She covered as much of the hand as possible, and then stamped down on the earth. She hoped that no one else would come through before she had the chance to bring a shovel to deepen the shallow graves she had placed her parents in three years earlier.
Meredith sighed. She often thought about her parents, and would almost feel guilty about what she had done until she remembered what they had been like; they had been constantly ordering her about and telling her what to do, until she had become tired of it. She had slowly begun to poison them, adding a little poisonous toadstool to the meals she prepared, until they were so weak that they didn’t even have the strength to breathe anymore. It had taken some time, but it was better than using any sort of weapon, which could have left evidence that she had caused their death.
She turned back to her basket and threw the spilled toadstools back into it. As she began to walk back, over the rickety bridge, she wondered how long it would be until Mr and Mrs Campbell died. Perhaps it would be soon. She certainly hoped so.
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READER'S REVIEWS (5)
DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"Spooky - cool." -- Jeremy.
"Weirdly well written! " -- Cathy, NJ.
"*I* was creepier. Good story, though. Good descriptions, nice flow, et cetera. Huzzah and Kudos." -- Lizzy Borden.
"WOW!!! This one definetly chilled my spine... and right when I was starting to feel sorry for the girl. Very well written!!!" -- Luis Felipe, Rio de Janeiro, RJ, Brazil.
"I enjoyed this story. The descriptive writing is evocative but works well by keeping the story moving, eg. `she broke it sharply`. Meredith has our sympathy and the ending is a shocker. " -- Wendy, Sevenoaks, Kent, UK.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2000 Lisamarie Jones |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
January 2000 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2382
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