Short Story: 'Our Eternity'

This short story by Demi Armstrong was the winner of the PGS Ghost Story Competition.

I feel as though in this life I am simply existing. This void of a body is strictly filling a space. Holding my breath. “Cecelia?” 

“I’m in my room, mother.”

“Cecelia!” Her wavering voice echoes through the house. Downstairs I find the door left wide open, It was cold enough with the late air seeping through the cracks in the walls. I shut the door, and waited in the kitchen, she’ll be back soon. Here I am, in darkness, alone. This silence weighs down on my chest, my heart. I can feel this... pressure restricting my breath. 

She came home early in the morning, the early time when Darkness is still holding back the sun, allowing only a warm glow to escape over the horizon. She walked right past me, without acknowledgement, in a daze. I’ll let her sleep and check on her later. Later. Our neighbour, Ms Bromley arrived, their words about the night before carried through the house. 

“Search”

“Faith”

“Forest”

Sobs. The familiar harrowing cries I remember from when I was younger. The kind only pain and torment can bring out of my mother. Out of me. My chest tightens as if the space around my heart and lungs is slowly closing in, suffocating my soul. 

I decided to search the forest myself.  A place filled with only darkness, with abnormal nature. I wandered aimlessly, I didn’t even know what I was looking for, where I was. Where am I? I turned around to meet the gaze of a woman, she was enchanting and familiar. “Do you know where we are?” It took a while for me to respond. “No.” We decided to search for a way out together. 

Although there was a strangeness to her, there was relief in her presence. As if our souls were bound. We tried to find our way back home, back to comfort and warmth. The air felt damp and cold. 

I didn't know her name. We’d been searching for the end of this abyss for hours. I knew the intricate lines of her face like a painting. I knew the gold that reflected from the sun at each angle in her eyes. I knew the curves of her lips and the distortion of her smile. I knew the subtle harsh tone to her voice and the soft relief in her laughter. 

“Don't you remember Cecelia?” Have we met before? She smiled and we carried on walking. 

Into the night, Darkness brought down a sudden strain in the air, air incompatible with my lungs. My limbs feel heavy and Darkness forced me to the ground, to the side of a mound. A grave? A grave! “A grave!” We began to dig. We found two bodies, fresh blood staining their faces. My face. But the other body? Those eyes I could recognise, even in the dark. Anna. “Yes?” This woman beside me responded. Anna responded. 

Tears burnt streaks down my face, the kind only grief can bring. Death. This was our eternity.