tirsdag 12. oktober 2010

En ekkelt, skummel historie

Denne historien kom jeg over for noen år siden.
Eller bildet som følger med historien vil jeg heller si.
Jeg er et ivrig medlem av nettsiden Deviantart, en side hvor mennesker fra hele verden kan legge inn sine kunstverk, som bilder, malerier, dukker, alt mulig.
Det er også en egen kategori med litteratur.
Noe er veldig bra, veldig veldig bra.
Andre ting er amatør.
Men siden er fantastisk.
Her kan man dele felles interresse og vise fra det man har laget, og andre kan kommentere.
Det er veldig mye bra her inne, og har du først kommet deg inn, så er det vanskelig å komme seg ut.

Min side på Deviant er HER.

Under har jeg kopiert inn fortellingen... Jeg har selvfølgelig spurt om lov først, og det fikk jeg :)
Så... Kos dere.
____________________________________________________

"Mummy"

On the morning of April 13th 2004 police were called to a house on the outskirts of a small village in central England.. They had been called by neighbours who had heard a sound that had chilled them to the bone.. a single strangled scream with an abrupt cut-off...
They knew little about the woman who lived next door, only the rumours they had heard in the village shop and over the bar of the Black Lion pub on the corner - they had heard that she had moved to village to escape her memories - her daughter had been gone for several weeks before she would believe what the police had been telling her, but still her mind shied away from the truth and she kept the room ready for her return, the bed made and toys laid out - and every morning she would run to the room half expecting to see her lying there, teddy bear in her arms and a sleepy smile on her face as she awoke.
After her husband left her, torn apart by grief and his wifes slowly slipping grip on sanity, her family had bought her the new home, wanting to give her a chance at a life, a new start.
she had been living there for 3 months now, but had never spoken to anyone - she hardly left the house in fact, groceries were delivered and left on the porch and she would scurry out, pale and dishevelled, avoiding the eyes of any who might look her way...
When the police broke the door down and went inside what they found was to put more than half of the village bobbies into psychiatric care so that they could sleep again.. but the worst thing of all was not the contents of the house, it was the contents of the camera lying on the floor in a pool of blood.. this was the last photo it ever took...

1 kommentar:

Det er veldig kjekt med kommentarer, men legger du inn en melding som er virkelig stygg, så vil den bli slettet.