Myshuno Prompt #24 Blackout!
Title: The Haunted Bedroom
Prompt: Thunderstorm
Characters: Simon and Eden Devereaux
Rating: PG-13
Summary: On a stormy night, seven year old Simon recalls a ghost story and goes to confront his fear.
Notes: Myshuno Prompt #24 provided by katrisims (Spoils events in the next chapter-referred to in my previous post-and is generally spoilery for Simon's arc and characterization,)
Word Count: 1365
My Card.
***
"...And so, on a dark and stormy night, Crazy Emily Smith climbed in through Quinn's bedroom window and hacked him and his wife, Bella, to bits with an axe. 'If I can't have him, then nobody can,' she cackled evilly. She was still laughin' when they hauled her away to the looney bin. It's said that whenever there's a thunderstorm, Quinn Devereaux's ghost haunts his bedroom and if you listen reeeaaalllll close, you can still hear him cryin' and he screams, 'No, Emily, stop! Please stop choppin' me up into gooey bits!'"
"Nuh, uh."
"Yeah huh. I betcha' Simon can hear it, can'tcha? You can talk to ghosts."
"N..no I can't."
"Yeah you can. We see you talkin' to the gravestones in your yard. And Quinn was your uncle. Do you hear his screams when there's a thunderstorm? Does his ghost come into your bedroom at night?"
A loud crash of thunder caused Simon to gasp sharply. Almost immediately he began coughing, but thankfully his coughs weren't as severe in the summer. He pulled the blanket up to his chin as he trembled.
It was true that he could talk to ghosts, but he didn't want the other kids to really know that. Besides, the ghosts seemed to be pretty nice. Even the one named Josh, once Simon realized that Josh was sometimes really silly. He had met most of the ghosts in the graveyard. Except for the one named Mary. But there was no stone that had the name Quinn on it. Simon thought his Uncle Quinn's gravestone might be in Quinn's bedroom. Right where the ghost story said he died.
But he had never, ever seen his Uncle Quinn's ghost. He didn't even know what Uncle Quinn looked like because there were no pictures of him in the house. He knew his mom had some in her photo albums, but he never had the courage to ask to see them. Talking about Uncle Quinn seemed to make people sad.
There was another loud boom and a bright bolt of lightning lit up his bedroom. The hallway light turned off and he could hear his grandfather downstairs yell, "Dammit!" Simon climbed out of bed and crept to the door.
Across the hall was the bedroom. The Bedroom. Uncle Quinn's bedroom. He could almost feel a presence emanating from it.
The bedroom terrified him. It was like there was a giant hole in the family and it was the bedroom's fault. And the worst part of it was that Simon knew when he got older, Uncle Quinn's bedroom was going to be his bedroom. He couldn't stay in the nursery forever.
"Have you ever seen the murder site? I don't know how your family can still live in the house. I betcha there's still blood alllllll over the place."
"Nah, Simon won't go in there 'cause he's too scared to! He'd pro'bly have a heart attack and die or somthin.'"
Simon bit his lip. His palms felt sweaty and his heart began to pound. He glanced down the stairs and noticed that the entire house was dark. He could hear his mother talking about lighting candles and looking for a flashlight.
He licked his lips and inched his way to Uncle Quinn's bedroom door. He'd show those kids. He wasn't a scaredy-cat. He stood in front of it for a few moments, trying to gather the courage to touch the handle. With a trembling hand he reached up and--
And at that exact moment, the hallway lit up from another bolt of lighting and a voice behind him said, "Simon? What are you doing?"
A large burst of adrenaline shot through him and he sucked in a large, startled breath. Instantly he was coughing and he saw black spots before his eyes. He felt warm arms wrap around him and his grandmother's voice was calming him. Relief went through him. Relief that it wasn't his Uncle Quinn coming to kill him or something. He started to cry.
"Shh, Simon, it's okay. It's just a thunderstorm," Eden said as she stroked his hair.
"I thought it was Crazy Emily coming to get me, or Uncle Quinn, or..or.." he buried his face into her stomach.
She knelt down in front of him and he could vaguely see that her face was close to his. "Simon? What are you talking about?"
His words tripped over each other as he told her about the ghost story, and Uncle Quinn's bedroom, and how he wanted to prove to the other kids that he wasn't scared but he was. He really, really was. When he was finished, his grandmother sighed and pulled him into a gentle hug.
"Sweetheart, there's nothing to be scared of. Do you want me to show you your uncle's bedroom?" He hesitantly nodded and she took his hand and opened the door.
At that moment, the light in the hallway turned back on and it spilled into the bedroom. Simon closed his eyes, terrified that there would be a giant, mean looking ghost. Eden reached over and flipped the light switch and he slightly opened his eyes. When there was no evidence of something about to jump out at them, he relaxed and opened his eyes all the way.
The bedroom looked like...a bedroom. It was dusty, which was a bit surprising seeing as his grandfather and mother were constantly cleaning. But other than that it just looked...normal. On the wall he noticed a picture of two red headed teenagers. He cautiously stepped closer to it. They were goofing off for the camera. The boy, who had a hairstyle exactly like his grandfather's (except his grandfather's hair was white while the boy's was red), was making bunny ears behind a much younger version of his mother's head. "Is..is that Uncle Quinn?"
His grandmother had a wistful smile on her face. "Yeah," she whispered. She reached up and brushed off some of the dust.
He looked around the rest of the room. There weren't any signs of blood and there wasn't an urn or anything present. "Did..did he die in here?"
Her shoulders slumped and she bit her lip. "No." She sat down on the bed and patted the place next to her. Simon climbed onto the bed. "Simon, that story you heard isn't even close to what had really happened and it's awful that that's what's being told. Your Uncle Quinn..." she sighed sadly. "Your Uncle Quinn and his wife died in a car accident. And it was snowing that day. There was no thunderstorm. And the part about Emily...My God, that's even more terrible! Emily was a very sad woman who suffered from a nervous breakdown after your uncle's death. She was nowhere near Quinn and Bella when they died. There is not one shred of truth in that story you told me. Not one!"
"But..but then where's Uncle Quinn's gravestone?" he asked, as if knowing where the presence of it would validate his grandmother's words.
She sighed an even heavier sigh. "He's buried at the church. Your grandfather...your Uncle Quinn dying was the most horrible thing..." she shook her head. "Sometimes there are things that are even too tough for grownups to handle. Do you understand?" Her words were punctuated by another crash of thunder.
"Yes," he lied.
"Simon...you can never, ever tell your Grandpa Rhys that ghost story, okay? And I'm going to make sure to tell your friends' parents that they should make sure that story doesn't continue to spread."
He kicked his foot on the bed and a cloud of dust puffed into the air, causing him to start coughing again. Eden gently helped him down and said, "It's too dusty in here, so we should leave. How about we go downstairs and I'll make you some hot chocolate, okay? And then I'll tuck you back into bed and tell you a nice bedtime story. How does that sound?"
He nodded and followed her out of the room. Right before his grandmother turned the light off, he looked back at the picture of his uncle and mother. He was glad that his first, actual image of his uncle was a happy one.
***
Prompt: Thunderstorm
Characters: Simon and Eden Devereaux
Rating: PG-13
Summary: On a stormy night, seven year old Simon recalls a ghost story and goes to confront his fear.
Notes: Myshuno Prompt #24 provided by katrisims (Spoils events in the next chapter-referred to in my previous post-and is generally spoilery for Simon's arc and characterization,)
Word Count: 1365
My Card.
***
"...And so, on a dark and stormy night, Crazy Emily Smith climbed in through Quinn's bedroom window and hacked him and his wife, Bella, to bits with an axe. 'If I can't have him, then nobody can,' she cackled evilly. She was still laughin' when they hauled her away to the looney bin. It's said that whenever there's a thunderstorm, Quinn Devereaux's ghost haunts his bedroom and if you listen reeeaaalllll close, you can still hear him cryin' and he screams, 'No, Emily, stop! Please stop choppin' me up into gooey bits!'"
"Nuh, uh."
"Yeah huh. I betcha' Simon can hear it, can'tcha? You can talk to ghosts."
"N..no I can't."
"Yeah you can. We see you talkin' to the gravestones in your yard. And Quinn was your uncle. Do you hear his screams when there's a thunderstorm? Does his ghost come into your bedroom at night?"
A loud crash of thunder caused Simon to gasp sharply. Almost immediately he began coughing, but thankfully his coughs weren't as severe in the summer. He pulled the blanket up to his chin as he trembled.
It was true that he could talk to ghosts, but he didn't want the other kids to really know that. Besides, the ghosts seemed to be pretty nice. Even the one named Josh, once Simon realized that Josh was sometimes really silly. He had met most of the ghosts in the graveyard. Except for the one named Mary. But there was no stone that had the name Quinn on it. Simon thought his Uncle Quinn's gravestone might be in Quinn's bedroom. Right where the ghost story said he died.
But he had never, ever seen his Uncle Quinn's ghost. He didn't even know what Uncle Quinn looked like because there were no pictures of him in the house. He knew his mom had some in her photo albums, but he never had the courage to ask to see them. Talking about Uncle Quinn seemed to make people sad.
There was another loud boom and a bright bolt of lightning lit up his bedroom. The hallway light turned off and he could hear his grandfather downstairs yell, "Dammit!" Simon climbed out of bed and crept to the door.
Across the hall was the bedroom. The Bedroom. Uncle Quinn's bedroom. He could almost feel a presence emanating from it.
The bedroom terrified him. It was like there was a giant hole in the family and it was the bedroom's fault. And the worst part of it was that Simon knew when he got older, Uncle Quinn's bedroom was going to be his bedroom. He couldn't stay in the nursery forever.
"Have you ever seen the murder site? I don't know how your family can still live in the house. I betcha there's still blood alllllll over the place."
"Nah, Simon won't go in there 'cause he's too scared to! He'd pro'bly have a heart attack and die or somthin.'"
Simon bit his lip. His palms felt sweaty and his heart began to pound. He glanced down the stairs and noticed that the entire house was dark. He could hear his mother talking about lighting candles and looking for a flashlight.
He licked his lips and inched his way to Uncle Quinn's bedroom door. He'd show those kids. He wasn't a scaredy-cat. He stood in front of it for a few moments, trying to gather the courage to touch the handle. With a trembling hand he reached up and--
And at that exact moment, the hallway lit up from another bolt of lighting and a voice behind him said, "Simon? What are you doing?"
A large burst of adrenaline shot through him and he sucked in a large, startled breath. Instantly he was coughing and he saw black spots before his eyes. He felt warm arms wrap around him and his grandmother's voice was calming him. Relief went through him. Relief that it wasn't his Uncle Quinn coming to kill him or something. He started to cry.
"Shh, Simon, it's okay. It's just a thunderstorm," Eden said as she stroked his hair.
"I thought it was Crazy Emily coming to get me, or Uncle Quinn, or..or.." he buried his face into her stomach.
She knelt down in front of him and he could vaguely see that her face was close to his. "Simon? What are you talking about?"
His words tripped over each other as he told her about the ghost story, and Uncle Quinn's bedroom, and how he wanted to prove to the other kids that he wasn't scared but he was. He really, really was. When he was finished, his grandmother sighed and pulled him into a gentle hug.
"Sweetheart, there's nothing to be scared of. Do you want me to show you your uncle's bedroom?" He hesitantly nodded and she took his hand and opened the door.
At that moment, the light in the hallway turned back on and it spilled into the bedroom. Simon closed his eyes, terrified that there would be a giant, mean looking ghost. Eden reached over and flipped the light switch and he slightly opened his eyes. When there was no evidence of something about to jump out at them, he relaxed and opened his eyes all the way.
The bedroom looked like...a bedroom. It was dusty, which was a bit surprising seeing as his grandfather and mother were constantly cleaning. But other than that it just looked...normal. On the wall he noticed a picture of two red headed teenagers. He cautiously stepped closer to it. They were goofing off for the camera. The boy, who had a hairstyle exactly like his grandfather's (except his grandfather's hair was white while the boy's was red), was making bunny ears behind a much younger version of his mother's head. "Is..is that Uncle Quinn?"
His grandmother had a wistful smile on her face. "Yeah," she whispered. She reached up and brushed off some of the dust.
He looked around the rest of the room. There weren't any signs of blood and there wasn't an urn or anything present. "Did..did he die in here?"
Her shoulders slumped and she bit her lip. "No." She sat down on the bed and patted the place next to her. Simon climbed onto the bed. "Simon, that story you heard isn't even close to what had really happened and it's awful that that's what's being told. Your Uncle Quinn..." she sighed sadly. "Your Uncle Quinn and his wife died in a car accident. And it was snowing that day. There was no thunderstorm. And the part about Emily...My God, that's even more terrible! Emily was a very sad woman who suffered from a nervous breakdown after your uncle's death. She was nowhere near Quinn and Bella when they died. There is not one shred of truth in that story you told me. Not one!"
"But..but then where's Uncle Quinn's gravestone?" he asked, as if knowing where the presence of it would validate his grandmother's words.
She sighed an even heavier sigh. "He's buried at the church. Your grandfather...your Uncle Quinn dying was the most horrible thing..." she shook her head. "Sometimes there are things that are even too tough for grownups to handle. Do you understand?" Her words were punctuated by another crash of thunder.
"Yes," he lied.
"Simon...you can never, ever tell your Grandpa Rhys that ghost story, okay? And I'm going to make sure to tell your friends' parents that they should make sure that story doesn't continue to spread."
He kicked his foot on the bed and a cloud of dust puffed into the air, causing him to start coughing again. Eden gently helped him down and said, "It's too dusty in here, so we should leave. How about we go downstairs and I'll make you some hot chocolate, okay? And then I'll tuck you back into bed and tell you a nice bedtime story. How does that sound?"
He nodded and followed her out of the room. Right before his grandmother turned the light off, he looked back at the picture of his uncle and mother. He was glad that his first, actual image of his uncle was a happy one.
***