It's Friday and I have a Flash Fiction to share :)!
Monday Morning Flash Fiction Challenge #22
A Truth Revealed
By Amy C
Word Count – 412
The old grounds were known for its haunting eeriness. Mournful sounds of a lady lost have been reported for many years. I walk the corridors of the disused convent seeking some hint of paranormal activity. A tale long forgotten lingers within these walls, waiting for its moment of retelling.
When I was younger, I used to roam the stairs and hallways shortly after it closed, drawn here by an uncanny force. We lived not far, a short hike through the woods of our backyard. I was forbidden to walk these grounds, but my feet carried me here as if tied to this mystery somehow. Sometimes, when the mood struck me just right, I felt a terrible loss. My eyes would water, my heart would ache from an unknown pain, a pain not my own. Now an adult, I wander these corridors seeking answers I was once too young to ask for.
As I reach a series of archways overlooking a set of uneven and crumbling stairs which lead to an overgrown garden, I imagine the beauty it once held. Blooms of a variety of color through Spring and Summer. Now it only holds a vague reminder of its once splendor in the tangled weeds.
A mist forms within the weeds, traveling up the old stairway. My eyes follow and there, an ethereal beauty stands. Deep within my heart I feel the tethers of her story weave together, forming an account that weakens my knees. Perhaps the truth of her tragic life will set her free from her endless sorrow. So I gather my courage and settle down to listen with my inner mind. And what I learn unnerves me, squeezing my lungs with the anguish encompassing my body, for the tragedy is now known to me in clarifying detail.
Agnes was her name, sent to the convent a disgrace to her family, her belly growing round with the seed of a man she loved profoundly. And thirty some years past, she died in childbirth—alone and heartbroken.
Her hand rests on her belly. Intense warmth passes over my entire body. Tears form and spill down my cheeks. I know with certainty I cannot explain, that this lady of mist is my mother. The story told, the truth revealed, the apparition fades from sight, a smile upon her beautiful face as her lingering spirit vanishes. I rise slowly, letting the knowledge of her tale envelope me, and smile a smile of my own.
* * * *Come back next week for another installment of Monday Morning Flash Fiction Challenge!