Free The Haunting Within by Michelle Burley Page A

cautiously she bathed in the warm glow that was beaming through the door and spilling out into the corridor where she stood. Relief washed over her at the sight that was very obviously not a morgue. There were no slabs where dead bodies had once been laid out, no instruments of death anywhere in sight. Rationality, if she still had the sense to think of it, would have told her that surely morgues were never on the second floor of a building, they were most certainly always in the cellar. But just as her old friend courage had deserted her, so, it seemed, had logical thought.
    It was a bedroom. She pushed the door wide and stepped inside. It was a very large room - almost as big as their own front room and dining room put together. The walls were decorated in a flowery paper with a pale pink background that had long since started peeling away, showing the dried plaster underneath. It smelled of mildew. At the far side of the room was a single bed with a flowery duvet and matching pillow. Lisa saw the corner of the duvet was rumpled, as though someone had just been sat there a moment ago. Here we go again she thought to herself with a sigh. Jesus! The slightest little thing was scaring her now. She was slowly going insane. Images of her sitting in a rocking chair by a window just staring out at the world with a slack-jawed expression flitted through her mind and she laughed in spite of herself. On the walls were pictures of horses and flowers that were covered with a thick layer of dust. Cobwebs were strung from the bulb in the middle of the high ceiling and the shade was thick with dirt. Apart from that and the impression that everything was years old it was actually really clean. The carpet was dust-free and he bedding looked pristine, if a little faded. There was a large pine chest at the end of the bed with the word TOYS carved into the front. She walked over to it, painfully aware of all the creaking floorboards she stepped on. Kneeling in front of it she lifted the lid. It opened with a loud squeak it and she peered inside. It was full of dolls and teddies. She picked up one that was at the top of the box and held it up. It was an old ragged Cabbage Patch doll in a frilly pink dress with its hair in pig-tails. On its arm the stuffing was oozing out from a split seam and the bottom of the dress was frayed badly. One eye was hanging from a thread, laying against the chubby cheek of the doll, seeming to stare up at her. The back of the dress was faded like it had been sat in the sun. This must have been her mum’s room when she was a child! Lisa had a doll just like this at home sat on her dresser. Almost a perfect replica of the one she held in her hand, same colour clothes, same colour hair, everything was the same, except for the ribbon tied around her hair, Lisa’s doll didn’t have ribbon in her hair. Her mum had bought it for her when she was seven and ever since then Lisa had treasured it. Even now, when dolls just did not suit a teenage girl’s bedroom she couldn’t bear to part with it. Her mum’s doll had obviously been worn with so many cuddles over the years. Lisa could imagine the doll taking pride of place on the bed and wondered if it had been a present from her grandfather on one of his “good” days and that was why it had been cherished so much. She felt an overwhelming pang of grief for her mother and her lost childhood and innocence.
    She wished with all her heart that she could take it all back, all the pain and suffering her mum and grandmother had been subjected to at the hands of her grandfather, wished she could wash it away like you wash stains from clothes. How different her life would have been! She would have had a granddad! A granddad who adored her and spoilt her like granddads should. She could have come here with her brother and spent the night with their nana and granddad and they could have taken them out for day trips. Oh, they could have had so much fun! She wiped away the tears