Mirrors

It's 1964 and Mila has moved from the ukraine to England. She moves into an mansion, in the heart of the Dales, to be percific were the bronte sisters lived. The ghosts of anne, charlotte and Emily haunt the house. But the brother Branwell, is making it hard for her. He tells her on her first night that there will be a murder in the village of a woman named Geogie mills, will she see the culprit? and if she does, will the culprit do to her before she tells the police?

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44. voice

The dark light of the evening flooded elegantly through the various seated windows, trees branches and leaves swaying foward, backward. Wind suddenly hits the house letting the thin glass shutters to slam under there wrath, the wind felt icey cold like in depths of water in the Antattic. The rays from the shining moon spread all around it revealing small animals running to cover in holes under trees.

Turning my bedside light on, I heard a continous creeking  sound coming from another room. I bolted upright in the covers of my warm covers letting the cold and icey air slam into me; sending a cold and unwanted chill up my curving spine. The sound would not stop, just a continuous heavy creeking coming from another room. Then it hit me, it was probabally 7pm so Declan and Connor would more  likely having drinks with their mother and my father. The light from the lamp showed how pale I was, the whipping cold leaving deep red marks on my shoulders and arms.

"come into my room young one...."

A voice sounded , it was quite high and bitter. Immediently I stood up on the cold and creeking floorboards, the light from the moon led my way. It felt as if I was being pulled towards something or someone ; as if I were a magnet being guided accross the fridge. I tried to resist this sudden urge to enter the room which stood opisite mine, not remembering  that it was Declans. A sudden familiarity flooded through me ; pictures of me entering my house, talking to my dad, listening to the wimpers that my mother made before her death, this shocked me. I wondered why I was getting all of these pictures inside my head, like the owner of that bitter snarling voice were manipulating me, I knew that the picture  were real though because every day I hold denial for my mothers brutal death.

At this point, I was standing outside Declans room in my pjama shorts and light pink top. The wind still cold as ever. Lights were lit along the long, straight corridoor. What was odd (in my opnion) was that no lights were lit at Declans and my end. My shaking hand reached out towards the metallic handle. I grabbed onto it, saying some prayers before I heard something. Voices. Two voices became clear as they stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"Mila!" Dad yelled.

"Coming" I replied.

My voice was dry and bitter, I had nothing to drink since early this morning and I was starting to feel a tad faint. I quickly go back  to my room, leaving Declans door slightly ajar. Grabbing my red pull over I hurried towards the stairs and towards my dinner.

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