Winningentry


	WINNERS OF THE 2007 COMPETITION


	First Prize THE MAN IN SEAT 71 by Jeanne Lawrence ‘Christmas would be extra special this year,’ thought Sadie. For a start she’d be going back to Torridon and just maybe she’d get to see what was behind the green door set into the magical mountainside near Grandpa’s Kirk. “Not for the eyes of bairns.” Grandpa MacBride’s words were seriously stern and to be obeyed. Sadie chuckled at the remembered words. “Over here, Nurse, cubicle two, STAT!” The emergency team followed the Doctor’s staccatoed orders in a silence punctuated solely by the monotonous tick of the heart monitor. Sadie leaned across the young woman. A pair of startled grey eyes mirrored her own desperately begging her to share this thing and to help her. Ice flowed into Sadie’s veins filling her heart with despair. A sympathetic wave of deep pain shot through her body and she took a brief step backwards to steady herself. Gloves were stripped off and thrown into a bin. They could do no more. Only a Christmas miracle would save this young woman and her unborn baby. A freezing cold mist swirled around outside Euston Railway Station. Sadie rushed inside amidst the eager throng of Christmas Eve travellers. She hummed out loud when Jingle Bells followed her to the gleaming blue Caledonian Sleeper streaked alongside a platform. For an instant her rapid steps faltered. A silver grey coffin slid past her on silent wheels to be loaded onto the train. ‘God, death gets to me everywhere’! Her thoughts rolled over to a young woman and her baby but she dismissed the desperate sadness and hurried to board the train. “Here I come, Torridon, this is Christmas!” She sank low into Seated Sleeper number 70. Muffled sounds drifted around a partially empty coach forecasting a comfortably quiet night. What joy, she’d waken in Inverness and, with luck, be home in time to hear Grandpa MacBride preach the late morning Christmas service. A sharp whistle heralded the train’s first heaving tug. Sadie gazed through the window. Gloomy shadows from the dimmed lamps drifted above the deserted platform. A startling feeling that she was being watched shot shivers of cold up her spine and her fingers curled tightly into the blanket. Sensing movement she turned her head to smile and greet her companion. Seat 71 was empty! And yet --- wasn’t that light breathing? Huddling down into her seat she reached for a magazine. She’d read a while, order some supper and then sleep the night away. Somewhere north of Crewe, the hurtling metal monster chuntered, hissed and screeched in protest before drawing to an angry full stop. The dim lights sputtered and black silence took over. A muffled voice announced, “Sorry for the delay, weather problems. Light will be restored and we shall continue our journey as soon as possible.” Sadie encouraged her eyes to peer around. Slanting snowflakes pierced the blackness, it looked incredibly beautiful. A sharp breath caught in her throat. Her senses gathered their strength together to tell her that this time someone WAS watching her. She shuddered and eased her blanket a little higher. Something here was extraordinarily wrong. This dark softness was enveloping her, smothering her, she took a deep breath to take control and her pulses raced. Movement in the seat beside her, and a light fingered touch brushing over her arm, made her draw closer into the window corner. She whimpered. Unnatural coldness flowed, menacingly, throughout her body coating her terrified heart in a sheet of ice. Her throat closed completely when she tried to call for help. Her movements were frozen. A guard passed through hanging oil lamps at each end of the coach. Sadie struggled to attract his attention but he walked on by, unseeingly. The ghostly lamplight spread flickering, misty shadows into every corner of the coach. She willed herself to turn and look at her companion. The hollow eyed face of a man, wearing a deep, black suit, lifted the corners of its thin mouth and treated her to a half smile. “Good evening, Miss Sadie, I trust you’re comfortable enough tucked away in your cocoon.” Oh, God! How did this man know her name? Sadie shrank further back into her seat. The man’s thin smile held a deadly promise and his tiny glittering eyes bored into her very soul. He turned his gaze away and spoke to someone. “I’m glad we dressed her in blue, it suits her, goes well with the ice-blue satin, don’t you think?” Sadie glanced at her blue sweater and grimaced. ‘Pure coincidence’, she thought. The voice continued. “Hate these journeys, darned uncomfortable and on Christmas Eve of all times. That God fellow doesn’t always get it right. Look at her here, what did she do to deserve this?” He sighed, “Going to be a long night I can see, I could do with a good sleep. This is the tenth this week, too many accidents on the run up to Christmas. I’ve still got five stacked away in the freezers waiting for somebody to make their mind up where they’re going. Want to get their Christmas celebrations over first, they do. And does HE appreciate it, all this birthday celebrating thing? At least with this one there’ll be somebody waiting. Poor thing, far too young and that baby, what’s going to happen to it? I can’t help feeling a bit sorry for them, being Christmas an’ all.” His companion nodded, “Aye, it’s sad. But there’ll be no digging for this one, thank God. It’s mighty hard ground up in them wilds of Scotland. Did you say it’s being met by a Preacher?” “Aye, some relative I believe.” The travellers went silent, a silence not of this earth. A silence that suspended all human feelings taking them into its powerful grasp to hold them all in a void of total darkness whilst waiting for something to happen. Sadie felt this power of silence overwhelming her and her heart turned to God, begging him to make sure she reached home safely. “No need to worry, Miss, we’re watching over you, we’ll soon be home.” The man answered her prayer. Sadie grabbed a hold of her courage, she did not like the conversation she’d overheard, and what did it have to do with her anyway? “But, --- who are you?” “Well, Miss Sadie, we’re the odd couple my companion and me, but we’re just doing our job.” “Your job, but what is your job?” The thin uneasy smile came again. “I’m the Undertaker, --- and my companion,” he glanced across the aisle to where another black suited man was sitting, “is the grave digger.” Sadie choked out a half sob and huddled down into the enveloping softness, with grave uneasiness, when the image of a coffin being loaded onto the train filled her vision. The lights flicked on and with an enthusiastic hoot the metal monster hauled its load back up to speed. In total relief Sadie turned to comment to her companion. Seat 71 was empty. It was Christmas Day and Inverness Railway Station was wakening to the arrival of The Caledonian Sleeper. Sadie waved frantically as the train drew alongside the platform. She couldn’t wait to put this nightmare journey behind her. Her beloved grandparents were there patiently waiting and it was Christmas morning, oh what joy. She hurried to gather her belongings and, with a rush of relief, she left her seat and climbed eagerly down onto the platform. But why were Grandma and Grandpa MacBride not rushing over to meet her? And why did they look so sombre all dressed in black? Her steps faltered, all power drained from her, an ever deepening horror and despair washed through her frozen body. An understanding was reaching out to her. Grandma and Grandpa were escorting the silver grey coffin, it was being wheeled by two men in dark black suits. Their movements were slow and deliberate, their heads bent forward as in sorrow. The journey to Torredon would not be a happy one. In her arms, Grandma carried a tiny baby. The man from seat 71 glanced towards Sadie. The corners of his mouth turned up in a thin half a smile. His smooth, eerie words floated across to her. “You’re safely home like I promised, Miss Sadie.” Her eyes misted over and the group dissolved and floated away into the air. The green door, in the mountainside behind the tiny Kirk on the hill, stood wide open. The silver grey coffin slid through it into the MacBride family tomb. Tears streamed down Grandma and Grandpa’s cheeks as they said their last ‘Goodbyes’ to their beloved granddaughter, Sadie Alexander Macbride. Grandma rocked a tiny baby and whispered, “Hello, little Sadie, your mummy would have loved you and we promise you’ll always be safe.” Grandpa closed the green door with slow deliberation and an aching heart. His beloved granddaughter’s question was answered at last.

SECOND PRIZE

Don’t Leave me at Christmas
by
Nicola Cleasby

Christmas would be extra special this year, thought Sadie, for a start she’d be going back to Torridon and just maybe she’d get to see what was behind the green door…

‘She’s restless.’

‘She always is at Christmas,’ Dr. Carrie Forbes replied. ‘The first year, we thought she was coming out of the coma but nothing came of it. But this is the calm part, just wait.’

Deep in her subconscious Sadie screamed in protest, even while another part of her brain acknowledged the futility of resisting. Once again she was going to be forced to relive that last Christmas through to it’s inevitable conclusion. She stopped fighting, she was going back to Torridon.

‘I’m really glad you came,’ Sadie said, turning from the road to smile at the man beside her. ‘I wasn’t sure you would considering….’

‘Don’t think about it,’ Richard replied, ‘I know how much coming back here means to you. But why now?’

‘I’ve wanted to come back, many times,’ Sadie said, ‘but it seemed like another life, like a dream. Then you…’ She paused, frowning.

‘Then I, what?’

‘Nothing.’ She shook her head. ‘What I meant to say was, then Grandmother’s letter arrived, and it all came back to me. Look, we’re here. There’s the house.’

They rounded a last bend and the house was before them. It stood overlooking the loch, the mountains rising steeply behind. Sadie switched off the engine and turned to Richard, ‘I just wanted a word before we go in.’

‘Hmm?’

‘About Grandmother,’ Sadie paused, unsure how to word her warning, ‘It’s just that …’ she frowned, ‘… well, I just don’t want you expecting some nice cuddly grannie that’s all, because you’ll be disappointed.’ She sighed and got out of the car. ‘Come on, let’s get the happy reunion over with.’

The heavy, wooden door swung open and a women stood before them. Like Sadie, she was tall and slender, but her long black hair was streaked with grey and her pale face heavily lined. She stared for a moment, the stare dissolving into horror as she recognised her granddaughter.

‘Sadie?’

‘Grandmother. This is Richard. We’re here for Christmas.’ The woman stared silently and Sadie cast Richard an apologetic glance. ‘Can we come in? We’ve come a long way.’
Her grandmother turned and walked away without another word.

‘I thought you said she wasn’t cuddly.’ Richard murmured. ‘She must have changed since you last saw her.’

Sadie grinned and elbowed him in the ribs before pulling him through the front door. It swung shut leaving them standing in the shadowy half light. Richard gazed around with interest.
‘What no Christmas decorations? No tree, no tinsel?’

Sadie grimaced. ‘It’s an old family tradition. I’ll tell you about it later.’

Sadie sighed in contentment as she looked across the table at Richard. Now he was here at Torridon everything would be perfect again.

‘So,’ he asked, ‘tell me about this family tradition.’

Her grandmother answered. ‘Sadie’s father left us when she was six. It was Christmas Eve, just like tonight. Her mother was a little…’ she paused as if searching for the right word ‘…upset.’

‘Upset?’ Sadie almost laughed at the understatement. ‘Mum went absolutely crazy. She tore down all the decorations, smashed the fairy off the tree.’ She shrugged. ‘We never bothered much after that.’

‘You’ve never spoken of your mother. What happened to her?’

‘She never got over Dad leaving. Two years later, on Christmas Eve, she left us.’ Sadie stared down at the white table cloth, once again feeling that mixture of sadness and rage that filled her when she thought about her mother. Her memories were interrupted by her grandmother.

‘And what about Rebecca?’ she asked. ‘Why don’t you tell your boyfriend about Becky?’ Then she stood and left the room without saying goodnight.

Richard raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, you did warn me. So who’s Becky?’

‘She’s my sister.’ Sadie smiled sadly. ‘She disappeared when she was fifteen. They told me she’d run away, but it wasn’t true. She would never have left me.’

‘Don’t tell me… it was Christmas Eve again.’ Sadie nodded. ‘So, what do you think happened to her?’

‘I don’t know,’ Sadie’s voice sank to a whisper, ‘but I think Grandmother did something to her. Because of the green door.’

‘The green door?’

‘After my mother went, grandmother let us run wild, but she had one rule - never open the green door. So of course it became something of a dare and the last thing I remember Becky saying was she was going to see what was behind the green door.’

‘Did you look for her?’

‘I couldn’t. I was only twelve and I was taken into care. This is the first time I’ve been back since. Come on, let’s go to bed. Tomorrow I’ll show you the green door.’

Something woke her and Sadie lay for a moment, disorientated in the darkness. Thunder rumbled in the background and somewhere in the silent house a door slammed. She sat up abruptly, reaching for the light switch. It wasn’t where she expected and for a moment she panicked before realising she was in Richard’s room. She frowned, why was she here?
‘Richard,’ she called softly, but she could already sense that she was alone. She found the switch and hit it but the room remained in darkness.

‘Damn,’ she muttered, the storm must have cut the power. She was fumbling for the candles when deep within the house, a rhythmic thudding started. The sound stirred some long forgotten memory and Sadie knew that she had lain on other nights like this one, listening to that same sound, the chill air permeated with the same sweet, cloying scent.

The stone floor was cold against her bare feet and the candle gave out a dim, flickering light as she made her way towards the noise. She knew where she was heading, instinct guiding her until she came to a halt in front of the green door.

It was slightly ajar and she pushed gently so it swung slowly open revealing a narrow stone staircase that led downwards beneath the house.

‘Becky?’ She called out softly and the sound stopped abruptly. Part of her wanted to turn and run but she forced herself to step down into the dark stairwell. One step at a time, until she turned the corner and found herself in a large, dimly lit cellar. Her grandmother stood in the uncertain light, a shovel in her hand. She was gazing at Sadie with a look of intense hatred on her tear stained face.

‘Why did you come back?’ she hissed.

Sadie frowned. ‘You sent me a letter.’

‘You’re lying, I would never, never have asked you to come back here.’

Something was nudging at the back of Sadie’s mind and she forced herself to concentrate. ‘It was Richard,’ she murmured, almost to herself. ‘Richard told me he was leaving me.’ She rubbed at her forehead in confusion. ‘I had to bring him here. I knew he could never leave me once he came to Torridon.’

At that moment the power returned and in the bright light Sadie saw Richard lying at her grandmother’s feet, his eyes staring, his chest a blood soaked mass.

‘No, no.’ She dropped the candle and tried to step back but came up against the stairwell. ‘You killed him, you killed Richard.’

Her grandmother laughed, the sound high pitched and edging on madness.
‘Look at yourself,’ she hissed.

Sadie slowly looked down, her eyes widening with shock as she took in her white nightgown soaked with crimson. Then her head was flooded with a vision of stabbing and it was her hand that held the knife, her eyes that stared into Richard’s horror stricken face.

‘He was going to leave me.’ She pleaded.

‘As your mother and Becky were going to leave you?’

Her grandmother lifted the shovel and resumed her digging while Sadie stared around the room in confusion, her eyes finally alighting on two graves. Suddenly she was back in her vision, but this time it wasn’t Richard in front of her but her mother. Her mother who tried to fend her off with blood soaked hands. And then Becky. Becky who at the end had begged and screamed that she would stay.

Then it was Sadie who was screaming, screaming in denial and falling into a black hole from which she knew she would never get out.

‘There, that’s it, over for another year. She’s all yours now.’ Carrie sighed; she tried not to get too involved with patients, but Sadie was a special case. They had come to the hospital at the same time. Now, ten years later, she was moving on but Sadie would stay, trapped in her half-life.

‘Goodbye Sadie,’ she murmured and deep inside Sadie’s brain something flickered to life.
Someone else was trying to leave her? Didn’t they know people weren’t supposed to leave at Christmas?


	3rd Prize A Return to Normal by Helen Lowry Christmas would be extra special this year, thought Sadie, for a start she’d be going back to Torridon and just maybe she’d get to see what was behind the green door. She’d wondered often enough, but now she was ready to find out. Torridon was the family home, a semi-derelict pile in the middle of the Yorkshire Dales. This was the first time she’d been back for Christmas in a long time, she had asked before, but she hadn’t been allowed – until now. This year was different; she’d sorted her life - her therapist said so - and now, she wanted to know…she needed to know…what was there? The taxi crunched up the gravel driveway, scattering stones in all directions. Snow covered the ground, the scene was set. Her mother opened the front door, a thin smile spread across her lips. ‘Sadie’s home, George,’ she called into the house. ‘Hello, Mum.’ Sadie walked into the hall and dropped her bag by the cold radiator. She couldn’t decide whether to hug her mother or not, then decided against it. Hugging had never been a Clark family thing. Her father was sat in his favourite chair and didn’t even bother getting up. ‘Hello, Sadie.’ ‘Hello, Dad,’ she replied. She looked around the room, everything was the same, nothing had changed, and she noticed the lack of decorations. ‘I’ll take my bag up to my room.’ Hardly the warmest welcome. She slowly climbed the stairs, the air growing thinner as she ascended. A cold finger brushed against her cheek, Sadie touched her face. No, she thought, no, this is not what she wanted. She thought she was strong enough to beat this. Maybe she should have stayed away, but she felt so much better and wanted Christmas to be special this year. Her bedroom door was open. She put her bag on the bed and walked across to the window. It was dark, but the sky was clear and there would be a sharp frost. In the quietness of the room, she thought she heard a voice. ‘Get out…get out.’ Thud! She turned quickly to see that the bag had been thrown on the floor. A shadow was running out of the room. She followed and just had time to see the shape vanish through the green door at the end of the landing. It had started. Sadie liked Christmas, although she didn’t necessarily enjoy it. The hospital did their best but it wasn’t the same. There were no real presents, just a few packets of sweets and the odd cheap toy, from the local market she guessed. She had so wanted this year to be different, yet her parents didn’t seem overjoyed to see her – then again when had they ever been? The evening meal was a sombre affair. The three of them seemed poles apart sat round the large mahogany dinner table. ‘How are you Sadie?’ her mother asked. ‘Is your treatment working?’ The usual tactful questions, Sadie thought. ‘I’m fine, thank you, mother. Fully recovered and back to normal.’ ‘I hope you don’t find the holiday with us too stressful.’ ‘I’m sure I won’t,’ Sadie replied, wondering what she meant by that. ‘There’s no need for us to go over what happened to Serena.’ Sadie looked at her in astonishment. It wasn’t her - would no one believe her? Her mother’s plate went crashing off the table and smashed onto the floor, accompanied by young laughter. Her mother never battered an eyelid, as if it was an everyday event. Perhaps it was? ‘Mother, how can you say such a thing?’ Sadie asked in amazement. Her mother smiled; a strange smile. ‘Let’s hope we can make this a Christmas for you to remember, my dear girl.’ Sadie shivered, despite being close to the fire. They ate the rest of their meal in silence. Later, she almost felt comfortable sitting in her old rocking chair, close to the roaring fire. Sadie rocked backwards and forwards and gradually dozed into a corridor full of doors, every door was green and closed. She was trying every door knob…none opened. Some just vanished the moment she put her hand near. She woke up, somebody had trodden on her feet – there was nobody in sight. The spirit started the chair rocking, faster and faster, backwards and forwards. Sadie thought the chair was going to fall over. ‘No, stop…please stop,’ she shouted. ‘Get out…get out.’ She could feel the spirit’s presence. Her mother came into room, hearing the voices. ‘Sadie, I thought you were said you were better. I’m not so sure,’ her mother remarked. ‘Perhaps you should go to bed you might feel better in the morning.’ Sadie woke up the next morning, after a night of tossing and turning, knowing that something was wrong; it was as though the spirit was sending a message to her. But what was the message? She was scared yet intrigued. She knew that she wasn’t alone in the room. Looking at the massive double bed she had slept in, there was a dent at the side of her. It was still warm; her hand could feel a comfortable heat in the hollow. She remembered her therapist saying that telling people they have bad dreams is just a way of telling them to mistrust what they actually see. It was Christmas Eve and the house seemed to withdraw into itself. All those that should be, were now here. The party could commence. Sadie took herself off to bed and surprisingly fell asleep quickly. Soon, the dreams rolled into nightmares. There was a child, crying. Looking at its blood soaked body in total shock. Two little hands clutching the shiny implement protruding from its stomach. The voice called out to her, though the tears, through the pain. ‘Get out…get out.’ Sadie followed the dying child down the endless hallway, trying to catch up with her, to help. She stopped in front of the green door, the child had gone, where was she? Sadie’s heart was crashing about inside, she could feel the rivulets of sweat rushing down her sides from her armpits. She tried the door handle, it was freezing to touch. So much so it was painful to her flesh. She pulled her hand away and stepped back from the door. The door handle spun round first in one direction, then the other; then it stopped abruptly. Still she could hear the child’s voice. ‘Get out…get out.’ Sadie woke up and sat upright in bed. She had spent all these years wondering what was behind the green door…and now she knew, without doubt. The green door appeared after Serena had died. But how did Serena die? That she didn’t know, only that she got the blame. She got out of bed and headed out onto the landing, all was quiet and still. Now was the time, she knew this. The lights flickered, then went out. Sadie gasped and leant against the wall for support – the lights came back on. She breathed an almighty sigh of relief…the lights went out again and this time stayed out. Darkness swamped the area and the ceiling started to close in on Sadie, she could feel herself fighting for air. A candle appeared at the end of the hallway at waist height. Sadie could just make out a dark, forbidding shape behind it. The big clock downstairs struck midnight. ‘So this is where you’ve got to?’ It was her mother who was stood down the hall, her cold face flickering in the candlelight, through wisps of smoke. ‘What happened to Serena?’ Sadie asked. ‘You killed her,’ her mother replied, sneering. ‘No, no, that’s not true.’ ‘If you didn’t, then who did?’ she questioned. At this point the horrible truth began to dawn on Sadie. Everybody thought she was the mad one, the insane, jealous older sister, when all along it was their mother. The child’s voice, she now knew was Serena - ‘get out’ - she was trying to give Sadie a message after all. ‘I didn’t kill her,’ Sadie shouted. ‘I didn’t. I’m not mad – it’s you who’s mad, you’re insane. A mother killing her own child.’ Her mother smiled, it was an evil smile. ‘I think it’s time. Don’t you?’ Sadie’s mother put a hand in her jacket and pulled out a shining kitchen knife and walked towards Sadie, who was leaning against the green door screaming. The knife glistened. ‘You always did want to know too much.’ The green door finally opened for Sadie.

Writelink’s next open competition will be our annual Spring Fever Poetry Contest which will launch in the new year. Meanwhile you may like to have a go at our members only Yule Sing Me One Song Contest where we ask you to write the lyrics to a festive song! You’ll need to hurry as the closing date is the 10th December, 2006 http://www.writelink.co.uk/arenacomps

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