A new take on Maudlin Manor

Once upon a time ago

There lived a pair of twins

 Rotten little apples

Stuck their dolls with pins

They looked like little angels

Wrapped in silk and pearls

But they were rotten little devils

Masquerading as little girls

They lived in the house called Maudlin

A family name I suppose

But suited to the children

So very lachrymose

They have a nasty habit

Of staring straight ahead

They may have been alive once

But now they’re very dead

They haunt the Maudlin Manor

Walk the creaky floors

Open up the windows

Slam the wooden doors

Take things that they shouldn’t

And hide them where they can

Walk from room to room

Always holding hands

Beginnings

....and as I got closer the landscape began dying, trees lost their leaves and the air was frigid.  Suddenly the carriage drew to a halt. It heaved and tilted as the driver climbed down then pulled my bag from its strapping.  “This is as far as I go miss,” he said.  “Stay on the road straight through, it’s not much farther.”  I stepped out of the carriage and into the gathering fog. “Can you not take me the rest of the way?” I asked.  “You’ll not catch me in there,” he said climbing back up into his seat.  He looked down at me and a shadow crossed his features.  Then in a more kindly way he added, “It’s not too late to change your mind miss.  Climb back in.  I won’t charge you for the return.”  I paused without meaning to and then drew myself up and replied.  “You are very kind sir, but I’m sure I shall be fine.  Thank you very much.”  I stepped back from the lane and he tipped his hat and turned the horses.  As they left me I felt the overwhelming urge to run after them.

The branches overhead moved to a breeze that didn’t reach the ground.   It seemed they whispered to me as I began to walk towards what was to be my new home. 

A Ghost Story

Somewhere in this house a child is laughing.  Footsteps run down the hall above me then stop.  Then start again followed by the laughter.  I don’t know who she is, only that she will not leave.  I have asked her to go many times.  I’ve tried to be reasonable.  I’ve asked her what she wants but it’s as if she doesn’t hear me at all.  She only stops and looks, then smiles and runs away and up the stairs to resume her game.  I don’t know what to do.   I’m afraid that she will never leave.  This used to be a peaceful house.  She doesn’t care about that.  She wants only to play and to laugh and to torment me.  There are times when I wish that I wasn’t quite so dead.