Short Story 1

Short story based off the writing prompt; "Write a conversation where one person is begging the other to stay with them. I cannot be a love story of any type."

Laura Calder gave the headstone one last, long look. She turned to leave, but could not will her feet to move. They had planted in the lawn, like the seeping roots of an ancient tree. Her heart only sunk deeper through her feet. Her eyes were fixed on the engraved stone name.

Charlotte Lynn Calder.

A lump burned in her throat. She couldn’t leave, not now. Laura turned back to her mother’s headstone, tears sliding down her face. Turning up to the sky, she asked,

“Why? Why did you have to leave? Mom?” She strained her heart and ears for a sign, a whisper. Anything.

But silence.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, the custom ding telling her that it was her boyfriend texting. It buzzed again, and again. Cursing and wiping her nose she pulled it out. On the lock screen was a surplus of messages from him; asking if she was okay, when she would be home, if she needed anything. The messages were sweet, it finally brought a smile to her face. It was small, a minor tug, but a smile.

She shot back a text; saying she was leaving now. Swallowing her tears, she nodded at her mother’s headstone, and walked away.

“Wait, don’t go!”

Laura screamed, dropping her phone. She needed to look around. But no. She couldn’t. Maybe run? No. No moving.

Something soft, like fur in the form of fingers wrapped around her hand. She whimpered, only daring to look down. A transparent hand held her own. Long slim fingers wrapped around, pale blue grey.

“Please don’t go, I’m so lonely here. It’s so quiet. I can’t stand the quiet.”

She knew that voice. Fighting the urge to scream again, she turned to face the owner of the hand.

“Mom?” The word escaped her tight throat in a hushed murmur. The woman before her was barely recognisable as a person, much less her mother. She was pale, transparent. Her skin was taught and waxy, pulled tight over her facial bones. Her clothing was ragged and dirty.

But the eyes. The eyes were hers.

“Please don’t go,” the ghost repeated. Laura tugged her hand back, but the ghost wouldn’t release it.

“I-I have to go. You know, work stuff. You remember how busy I always was, right mom?” Her voice cracked. The ghost’s eyes seemed to widen, swallowing her in their green depths. Her pulse was hard in her throat.

“Always so busy. Too busy.” Laura tried again for her hand. The skin tugged, not dissimilar to when she had accidentally superglued her fingers together.

“Look, mom, I’m sorry I wasn’t around when you were sick. And I’m sorry I can’t be around right now. But I really have to go.” She yanked her hand back. With a gasp she realized the skin had been torn away. She whimpered and wrapped her good hand around the injury. She looked up, and instantly regretted it.

The air around them shimmered, like a heat wave. But the air, it bit like a February storm. Laura now missed the rank heat of July. The ghost congealed, it’s waxy skin now greasy, running with slime. Laura’s vision darkened until only the ghost was visible. It’s mouth opened wide, wider than she thought possible. It screamed.

“Stay, I want you to stay! Quiet, it’s always so quiet!” It dropped to the ground in a sobbing heap. The darkness dropped with it, oozing onto the grass like tar. Laura stood rigid, overwhelmed by what was happening. This couldn’t be real. Not possibly. She hadn’t eaten all day. Maybe she had passed out from hunger or something. Her face wrinkled as she looked down on the soggy heap. Time to play along with the nightmare.

She crouched down and patted the heap.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll stay for a bit, we can talk, okay?” The ghost looked up through the tangle of hair.

“You promise?” Laura nodded. A wide smile cut through the ghost’s face.

“Thank you, my little one.” It reached up and caressed Laura’s face. Laura smiled to hide a shudder at it’s touch. One hand slid up behind her ear, to her crown, the other hooked behind her jaw. Lauren’s eyes widened. Her skin shivered. It was real. So very real.

“Mom? What are you-” It twisted, hard. Laura could hear the grinding of her vertebrae, could feel the pull of muscles and tendons and then-

Nothing.

Now she would stay forever.

Author's Note

Short story, written in one shot with no editing.
Reviews more than welcome.

Reviews

[Inject Positivity]

First thing I would say you did justice to the prompt. I initially thought that this would be story of a relationship because of the prompt but you gave it a new meaning by writing it in a more deeper level, and here the ghostly figure is so alive that the whole story seems very well written. The writer's voice is another aspect of this short story that I very much enjoyed. There are some very good details about the setting of the place and the two characters that you have used here. You have used different descriptions and facial expressions to convey the feelings of the characters...

I enjoyed the simple way of speaking, it adds a flavor to the write... Well done...

Sincerely
Dhiman

[NanaThomas]

Your review is very kind! Thank you very much! I hope to continue this trend.

[KCthelastboyscout]

I don't know feels like a love story to me. It was love that made your main character go to the grave and it was the love of her mother that made her stay.
I've always said the number one fear about the afterlife is being alone.
Great story though regardless

[NanaThomas]

I didn't think of it that way when I wrote it, but I see what you mean! When I read the prompt, I took it to mean a romantic relationship. ;) Thanks for the feedback!