Prompt - Late at night you awake to find your wife/husband out of bed. Exploring the farmhouse, you find no lights on and the kids are still sound asleep. Past the fields, you see light shining out of the barn. When you walk out there and open the door, what do you find?
I’m expecting to see Francis sitting at his workbench, putting lacquer on the bookshelf or fixing the riding mower. But he’s nowhere to be found. Who turned the light on then?
I pull my robe around me tightly and take a few steps inside. “Honey? Are you in here?” No answer. But then I notice something shift at the back, behind a large curtain that covers an old mirror we’ve been meaning to restore for ages. “Hello?” I pause, getting the sense that I’m not the one in danger here. “It’s okay, you can come out.”
Holding my breath and waiting, I eventually see a small child emerge from the shadows. A girl, probably the same age as my little Myriam. Same dark hair and dark eyes as my daughter too, but the way her cheekbones stick out, the angles of her shoulders and elbows, the too-large dress draped over her thin frame... she clearly isn’t well.
My voice is barely a whisper as I try to coax her forward. “Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing in here?”
She looks past me with a scared expression. “He said he’d bring me a surprise.”
“Who said that?”
A low voice replies from behind me. “I did.” Francis walks past me and I can see relief in the girl’s eyes. He’s carrying a giant bag of candy, the kind that we keep hidden in basement cellar so that the kids can’t get their hands on them whenever they want. I silently watch as the girl creeps forward and sits on the floor of the barn with my husband, the two of them pouring through the bag of candy and selecting which ones they want. Kids always like Francis, mostly because he gives them exactly what they want. As he sits there wolfing down candy with her, my mind is whirring down a different course. This girl doesn’t look like any of the neighbouring kids, and whoever was caring for her wasn’t doing a well enough job. Where did she come from?
Without warning, the girl freezes with a look of panic on her face. “They’re coming for me.”
Francis gives me a brief look. “Don’t worry, we’re going to make sure you’re fi-“
A deafening boom echoes outside, like fighter jets are flying low and just broke the sound barrier. The girl screams, high-pitched and terrified. I try to grab both her and my husband at the same time but a blinding flash suddenly illuminates everything. I fumble, my fingers graze someone’s sleeve but I’m not sure whose, and I trip forward and land on the soft hay floor. The roar continues to split my head, making it impossible to speak over the noise, but then I feel the girl’s small hand on my shoulder. I feel a strange tug in the air, like a wave of pressure is pulling me towards some mysterious centre. I want to ask what’s going on, my eyes are beginning to recover from the flash of light. But the most I can do is turn back to look at Francis, who is sitting behind me with a handful of my bathrobe held tight in his fist. Then there’s a second wave, stronger than the first, and pricks of darkness crowd my vision. I’m falling, passing out, and I can only hope that I will wake up soon.
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