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Waiting for the storm.
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Prologue She laughed, a childish girly sound, that rang through the empty halls of the old church that they were sat inside. The bright sun shine that shone through the windows made patterns on the pews, the red stain glass echoed on peoples faces highlighted people expressions as the listened to the laughter of the children. The children that was no longer to be seen. There was one thing that they should know about the church and its miss-beings, there was no children that played with in its grounds, only the spirits of what used to be. Years ago, Fardon was a small town set among the rolling hills of Saddleworth Moor, a silent town, that was well known for making their heather wands with the heather that bloomed in the summer. It was a small village full of workmen and jolly wives, a village where no one married for money because every one was the same wealth, a village where people cared not for fortune, the sound of the children’s laughter could be heard for miles, bringing joy to the whole community. Every one was every-one else’s best friend. There was nothing hidden in the town, except for the one dark secret. That one dark secret was enough, to eventually tear the town into pieces. John Backswarth had been the mayor of Fardon for many years, he lived in one of the smallest houses in the village, with his wife Maria and his daughter Elizabeth. Everything was happy in the Backswarth household, John was a good Mayor and would continue his rein, as long as the folk of the small village continued to support him. His daughter Elizabeth had always been a bright girl. For the very few years that she attended the small school in the village, she was top of her class, excelled in English and maths and had the makings of a very fine governess. But that was not what Elizabeth wanted. As soon as she finished the school, at the age of 15, she spent a year at home helping her mother Maria doing her domestic housework, before going back to the school, to teach. Elizabeth was happy. She was happy doing what she did, happy making the children smile and laugh as they ran around in front of the church. That was one thing she wasn’t happy about. Having to teach the children in the church. She’d always been to church, she’d always believe in god, but deep down, when she went inside the church, her stomach churned. It was not a good feeling. I’m a teacher now, I can’t start thinking things like this. Everything is fine. She’d think about it every day through morning prayers, looking at the beautiful windows, wondering what went on in this church, the very church she was sat in, maybe a hundred years ago. But who ever she asked, she got the same answer. Nothing, nothing happened. But deep down, what happened in the small church was always bugging her. She was one of those children, always curious and thriving for more information. ‘Nothing’ was not enough for her, people were lying to cover up the past of the church and she for one did not like it. But Elizabeth carried on, laughing and smiling, making the town happy as she continued to carry on doing her stuff, tending for the flowers in the garden, helping the children with the may day celebrations, helping the old women with their bad fingers make the lavender wands, while having a good time. John Backswarth was a strong man. The village folk adored him, yet managed to fear him at the same time. He worked hard, he served the village well. His wife adored him and he a daughter whom he was proud to call his. But John wasn’t quite happy. Sure John loved the small village, but he wanted higher. He wanted to be a mayor for a larger town, own a bigger house, get a bigger life. But they carried on. They were a family that learnt to dance in the rain. Chapter One Elizabeth stirred in the sheets that she lay under. She could hear the church bells ringing, tell the village it was seven o’clock. She yawned, rolling onto her side, thoughts running through her brain that she could stay in bed a few minuets longer. Those thoughts soon disappeared as Mrs Jarvis entered through the door. “Good morning Elizabeth!” She said, throwing open the drapes, letting the harsh morning dullness flooding through the room. She opened her eyes, watching her get clothes out of her wardrobe. Elizabeth climb out of bed, standing still and staring at the boring pattern of the wall as Mrs Jarvis pulled her corset and put on her other layers. Soon enough she was sat in the small kitchen around the kitchen table, dipping bread in the yolk of the an egg that had came from the local farm. “So, Elizabeth, are you looking forward to teaching a the school?” John asked, smiling. “Yes father, I am, Much so.” Her mother scowled, shaking her head. She glanced at her daughter. She was beautiful. That is, beautiful in her own right. Her slightly red hair, not ginger, red was plaited into a braid that hung down her back, her green eyes miss everything and nothing, for if her eyes were cameras, there would be so many photographs littered around her feet, her complexion was a little pale but smooth with no blemishes, maybe a few freckles that could prove some hassle when the sun was out. For a women, Elizabeth stood at a good height, she was a strong independent women, unlike most women around the village, she could stand up for what she believed in, which of course, was one of the reason’s she wasn’t married right now. There was plenty of people that had asked for her hand, but she had turned them away, claiming that she wasn’t going to be a good wife, she wasn’t going to be the type of “to be seen and not heard” for that was not how she rolled. “You should be doing something else Elizabeth. Young ladies are not expected to teach the screaming children. You should be in London by now, dancing at balls. Courting Elizabeth! You should be married off to a rich man, whom is your elder, you should be taught to be seen and not heard.” “No Mother.” She said, a little piece of sourness creaping into her voice. “I will not let that become of me. I will not be a stereotypical wife or women! We can think for our selves, we do have a mind, I know that you may not, but I do.” With that, Elizabeth scraped her chair back loudly, grabbing her cape, sliding it over her shoulders and leaving the house. It was still early morning when she left, What a way to start my day. she thought to herself, rolling her eyes. That was something about the village she loved, how quiet it was. As she neared the large lake, on the boarder line of the forest and the village. Elizabeth spread her cloak on the floor, sitting down on it slowly, her skirts brushing amongst the dew. Here she watched the gentle ripple of the water as the few morning birds stood sipping there water while their partners hopped around for worms. This was her peaceful spot, a spot where she could think in the silence and look around at the nature which was hidden from view. To the left of the large lake, was the church, which was placed, coincidently, on the edge of the forest. Elizabeth shook away the thoughts, closing her eyes as the warm morning sun hit her face. Before long, she church bells called Nine, and she knew that she had to face her fears and turn up to teach. As she got into the small classroom that lead off from the church, the class lapsed into silence. Elizabeth smiled warmly, to the students. “Please take your seats. I’m Miss Backswarth, and I’ll be your new teacher.” She paused, looking around the empty walls of the class room. “I’m going to hand you out some paper. On this paper, will you please write your name.” Slowly, she stepped around the small room, standing the name’s written down on their paper like a thing you’d find in a bank, telling the customer of their name. After that, she assembled the pupils in a line, frowning as she looked at them all. “Right.” She said softly, her voice ringing out around the church. She began to move the desks into groups, before letting the children go back to where they originally sat. That was when her day properly began. School ended at midday, the children went home for lunch, leaving Elizabeth alone. She left the room, entering the shed by the church. From in this shed, she pulled out a few pots of paint. With a smile, she carried then into the school room, pulling her hair into a bun and putting on the white apron she found in a desk draw. First she painted the sun. Its rays out shining, shining on the heather that the farmer’s wives were collecting. Then she painted the houses, the small stone ones that made Fardon its own, and next was the blue sky. She stepped back, smiling broadly as she looked at her work. You could almost hear the laughter coming from the village. It was perfect. Elizabeth once more sat by the lakeside. It was her spot. She sat there, head dipped, playing with a daisy. She looked up at the few swans sailing around the lake in a gentle fashion, her curiosity sparking. She was staring at them for a while, before eventually standing up, leaving her cape and hat behind her, and venturing into the forest. The first thing she realised was the vastness of it all. It was closed in, the light seemed of a green shade due to the way the light shone through the trees. It was peaceful, just like the lake. Elizabeth walked along, for miles, trailing her hand over bushed, ferns, tree trunks and shrubbery. She stopped, glancing around, before realising that she had no idea where she was. “Hello!?” She paused. “Hello!? Is any one in there!” ___________________________ Its not very good, just some thing to pass the time. :] |
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