Category Dark Stories

Tongue stuck out of one side of her mouth, she carefully slit a line in the daisy stem.  Eyes scrunched in concentration she slipped one more daisy in through the slit and gently patted it to the end, careful not to mush the petals.

She remembered how Grandma had taught her, on a spring day just like this one, not long before she had gone to God.

Grandmas’s eyes had also scrunched up in the same way and, anyone seeing Leila would have said how much she took after her Grandmother in all the right ways.

Leila gently picked another Daisy from the clump she had found, that rested between her legs as she sat legs open wide on the damp grass.  Her skirt splayed out in front of her it’s lace already had green tinges where the grass had stained it on previous Daisy hunts

She hummed Greensleeves to herself as she weaved the Daisies.  Her Grandfather had told her about the King who had written that song for his one true love.  Even though he had married many times, this was the one he really had been meant to be with.  Romance was big in Leila’s life.  She dreamed of white weddings and royal tiaras and …………

‘LEILA!

The peace was shattered as Sues rough tones broke it.  ‘LEILA WALKER GET UP THIS INSTANT!!!

Leila tried to ignore her.  After all, she wasn’t her mother, she was just a nurse!  If Leila wanted to make Daisy chains, who was Sue to stop her?!

Sue grabbed Leila’s arm and dragged her up and started marching her back to the big house. In defiance Leila placed the daisy chain haphazardly on her head.  She could see the faces watching her from the house and she pouted and wrenched her arm from Sues callous hand.

Shaking herself off she put her hand up, wiping grass across her nose as she tried to sweep the hair from her face.  Shoulders back, nose in the air she marched past Sue and up the garden steps to the door.

From a window her granddaughter watched her enter the old peoples home, pouting but half smiling, with flowers in her hair.

He placed another bag on top of the growing pile. He had accumulated too much over the years. Made leaving so much harder.

He could hear her crying quietly in the other room. She thought he could not hear her. He had not meant to hurt her but, when he had met Clarice he knew it was time to move on. Life here had been stifling over the past few years. He still loved her but……

Another soft wail emanated from the closed door. He sighed and took a breath. He had better say goodbye. He was not one to just text the ‘Farewell see ya later perhaps’, or the ‘It’s been good but now it’s over’

No. Even though he knew there would be tears and recriminations, he had wanted to face it. To draw the line under the past and to start again with Clarice.

His hand reached for the door and clasped the handle just as it swung wide with the small woman throwing herself through it and into his arms.

‘Please, please don’t leave me! Oh, I can’t bear this pain!’ she sobbed, big gasping breaths wracking her body. He held her close for a moment.

Sorrow and regret overtook him and he stroked her hair gently whilst imagining Clarice, smiling at him from the passenger side of his car. Oh Clarice. Was this right? Could he leave?

Gritting his teeth, primed for the inevitable, he calmly pushed her away from him and turned. Placing his coat over one arm and picking up a suitcase with the other he walked to the open front door and walked out to the driveway where Clarice stood waiting to finish packing the car.

Car packed they got in and drove off

Heart fit to burst with sadness she stood, hand half raised. She knew it was right. She had seen it coming, knew the signs. She would survive alone, she knew it deep down. He was old enough now and besides, he would be back to see his Mum soon.

I see you looking. Staring across the mall. Will you come over? Will you say hello to me?

People often stare at me. I am very beautiful in my way. Nothing can ever take that away from me. I was considered amazing once and was a model. Okay it was local but hey. I had my 15 minutes. Now I am here. Every day the same.

I see you looking. Oh, you pretend you are not. Embarrassed? You do not need to be. It is I who is embarrassed. It is I who have fallen. My clothes unfashionable were all the rage once. My hair…oh well, I do try and comb it but well, fingers just do not do it really.

The bruise? That is my business not yours.

I see you looking. Do you know I hate you? and I love you? I hate you because you do not come to me. I love you because it s not your fault I am here. I hate you because you will go home to your wife and kids, your dinner and your TV and I? Where I go is also none of your business. We keep it secret.

Did you know I had a job once? A husband? I drove a car and had a dog and a garden with roses. Do you even care? When you stop looking you will turn away and forget me as you never have known me.

You may remember the image of me. Only.

I was a model once. People looked at me and clapped and toasted me. Now they shoo me.

I see you looking. Through your lens. Taking a shot that you can show people so they feel pity for me and admiration for you.

I see you looking.

“I am so tired. Tired of fighting people, governments, my own desires
and needs that have no place in our world, or so I am told.
‘Tired of explaining myself to you. Trying to make you see who I am,
and why I do what I do. I mean, does it really matter? Who are you to
even care? My thoughts are my own and I should not be wasting time
here writing this out for you. Not when tomorrow is such an important
day.
‘Questions. Questions. The lights are bright in this room and I feel like
walking over and turning them off, or even just dimming them, but I am
too tired. My eyes are sleepy and I suppose I had better get this done
first.
‘Who am I to care? Nobody so you tell me … not sure you are right
about that you know. I think I am more than you know. I have more
secrets than I will ever tell you anyway.
‘It started when I was so young. Hey, I was caring and empathic once
you know! I gave a shit about people like you and what you wanted and
then, one day I just didn’t care any longer. Why? Oh, I don’t know.
Perhaps the lies people told, the beltings received, the abuse. Who
knows. One day I did and the next day I woke up and just didn’t.
‘I worked hard though, at hiding it. Do you have any idea how much
work that can take? Do you possibly have any inklings how bloody
grateful I am now to tell you the truth about my feelings?
‘I am getting tireder and really should sleep.
‘You asked me to give you places in the past, names, dates… I can see
you reading this and hoping to find it all out. My past, my dirty little
secrets. Last laugh is mine. I am not going to tell you. Anything.
At all.
‘Shit, so tired. I am going to leave this now and come back to it
tomorrow. I may tell you something then. Just a little something to tempt
you, to tease you, to set you wondering.
‘Yes, tomorrow I may tell you just one secret to make you happy…. see?
I care a little still.”
The prison warden put down the piece of paper he had been reading,
and sighing slid the glasses off his nose and placed them on the table.
He rubbed his brow. Shaking his head he sat down at his desk
“Nothing?” shouted Ben. “He told us NOTHING?”
Charlie sighed again. Now executed they would never learn his
secrets.

Hearing a noise she froze, listening, alert. She must not be found here.
The boy startled her anew as his nose pressed against the window
suddenly, squeaking against the cold pane.
She needed him to open the window, to climb out over the ledge to her
so she could play with him but he just sat on the end of his bed, nose
pressed against the glass, squinting out into the night.
She sighed.
Obviously hearing a noise from beyond the bedroom door he turned his
head and listened intently, then a muffled ‘Yes Daddy’ as he slid off the
bed and toddled towards the bedroom door.
She sat in the tree, head slightly on one side as she wondered if he
was coming back.
Time passes slowly when you are sitting in the arm of giant branches
just waiting for someone or something but after a little while, the boy
returned to the room and jumped back under his duvet, sitting cross
legged with a sandwich grasped tightly between chubby fingers.
She softly tapped on the window. She was hungry too.
The boy remembered she was there and scooted to the window again
and slid back the bolt. She sat eagerly waiting for him to join her.
Tommy closed the window again. It had been a bit of trouble
persuading her to come inside but the promise of sandwich had done
it. He scrunched back down in his bed, pulling the duvet up and over
his head, creating a tent under which lay the tabby cat, licking her
paws clean of peanut butter spread. It was much warmer in here.