Into the Unknown

This is a story of a Miss Edith Mistledust searching for a new life. She stumbles across a little boy with the ability to see the future. After meeting him she resolves to find the path to, what he called, a land "so lush and green and bountiful". Will she find it, and what sufferings are there for her on the way?

This is a period drama/fantasy set in the year 1941, 3 years after WW2 ended.


2. A dysfunctional family

I moved slowly towards my door placing my key into the lock and turning it slowly to not wake up my Father who was probably still drunk and out cold on the sofa. Since my mom died and all my brothers dead from the war, he has never been the same. He quit his job so I was forced to get one and he never moves from the sofa except to use the toilet. It hit him hard when mom died and he often took it out of me.
I moved the door open and quietly closed it and but his sausages and chips on the oven, and was about to sit down for a well earned rest when I heard him call from the living room. I took off my cardigan and placed on my apron before moving out of the kitchen and started to turn the knob of the door to our living room.
“Father?” I said. He grunted before sniffing and said,
“Where is my dinner?” I took a deep breath before I said
“In the oven, half an hour away.” He turned away and took another swing of his whiskey.
“Was it him you where with?” He spat.
“I was with Jimmy, yes” I said as I turned on the light and started to clean up the empty bottles scattered about him.
“I could be dying up here while you were out with him.” He raged trying to make me feel guilty. I could feel the anger rage up inside me.
“Look the only reason you could be dying is because of this!” I shouted and held up the full black bag of alcohol bottles. I could feel the tears roll down my eyes as he just looked away from me. I stormed out slamming the door behind me and dumping the bottles in the hallway of our house, and went back into the kitchen. I grasped onto the locket Mother had given to me as a baby and remembered how she used to take us all down to the coast and we would all play chase and build sand castles with at least all of us dropping our ice cream. I chuckled to myself and pictured her in front of me smiling and stroking my hair. I was shaken into reality by the timer on the oven. I got up quickly and took out his ready meal placed it onto the plate and took it into him. Opening the door he didn’t even look at me. I placed it next to him and left.

It had been 3 years now. I missed my Father the way he used to be not the drunk that has taken his place. I went into my room and took solace in mothers last few letters to me out in the country before the bombing. I looked out of the window and admired the rain pouring down outside and trickle down my window in an attempt to get to earth. I snuggled down into my bed and cuddled my mother’s locket and fell sound asleep.

I awoke the next morning to a banging on the door. I stood up and hastily placed my dressing gown on and sped toward the door. As I turned the lock on the door a policeman was there holding my father in handcuffs. I gasped. Me and the policeman spoke not a word only engaged in warning looks and looks of disappointment. I showed the policeman into the living room and he undid the hand cuffs and my father sat in his usual position on the couch. With shame and disbelief on my face I showed the policeman out.

I turned my back to the door and slid down to the floor. It was the fourth time this week. Placing my hands in front of my eyes I started to cry. The tears dripped down my cheeks and onto my night dress and I curled into a ball as the silent tears turned into loud cries. Turning towards the wall I placed my hand upon it and stroked the wallpaper, taking comfort in the soothing sound of the air popping out of the glue that lay beneath. Sniffling and composing myself I pushed on my legs and raised myself up once again. Letting out a sigh I went into our living room and stood in front of my father.
“How many times do I have to open the door to a policeman bringing you home? Who is the adult here? I have tried to be sympathetic but she has been gone for 3 years now father.” I blurted. The next few seconds went past slowly as he moved his head to the side and looked at me.
“You are an insolent little wretch and I was burdened with you! I wish you had died not your mother! Now get out of my sight!” He said his eyes crimson with anger. I stood there helpless with tears flowing from my own eyes, not knowing what to do. I left the room quietly, and continued across the hallway to my own room. Removing the old suitcase from under my bed, I also dislodged all the dust hidden underneath. Coughing and spluttering, I unlocked the case and started packing my most precious belongings and clothes. I took one last look around my room and noticed moms picture hanging on the wall. I rushed over and clutched it close to my chest. Holding back the tears I placed it on the top of the pile inside my suitcase and shut the case securely.

Calmly I placed on my plain white blouse, doing the buttons up slowly and then tucking it slowly into my plaid skirt which came down to an inch below the knee. Sitting on my bed I now placed my feet into my stockings and rolled them slowly but softly up to my thigh and hooking them onto my suspenders. Standing up I slipped my feet into my shoes which had a 1 and a half inch heel and did up all the way to the ankle. Once the tying was completed I moved out quickly into the hallway and back into the living room cap in hand and correcting my hair as I went.
“I’m leaving Father. There is enough money in the pot to last you a week. Goodbye.” I said calmly. His head moved just a tad before returning to his original position. I placed my hand into my cardigan pocket and pulled out my set of keys. Opening his hands I placed them inside before closing them and leaving. Little did I know that was the last I would ever see of my father.

So there I was standing outside of my home never to return. I moved quickly toward the stairs and hasted down them. I came to the door of Flat 57, Mrs Rose Flanington. It was too early to knock on her door so instead I posted a letter through her box saying,

One last humbug,
Love Edith

Posting it through with a single humbug. I stroked the door and kissed it lightly before continuing on my way down. Surprisingly the block was quiet. It had the odd echo of people shuffling around but it was still eerily quiet. After 4 more flights of stairs I found, or almost tripped over, Bobby and I immediately became aware of his overpowering presence. His eyes went a glazed white and his face turned a shade not to dissimilar. His opened his mouth and spoke quietly,

To walk out on one’s own blood,
Emotions may be ceased,
I wonder if a curse be told to the help
the devils wretch be poisoned in his sleep

But unto this day you will find
A whisper of a land
So lush and green and bountiful
And soon to you may understand.

Shocked and shaking I sped down the stairs and tripped down into the arms of Jimmy.
“Whoa there! What is the hurry?” He smiled with care in his eyes. I burst out into tears and he held me close. Grasping at his collar I pulled him in.
“What’s wrong?” He gasped. His expression changed from laughter to compassion as I explained to him how I had left my home. After I had finished crying I noticed the contents of my case sprawled on the stairs. Letting out a great sigh me and Jimmy began to cobble together my few belongings back into my, now broken, suitcase.


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