Post by kittypatter on Aug 4, 2009 11:17:25 GMT -5
Distant Sun
‘Daisy... Daisy – Daisy!’ a female voice faltered into annoyance as she looked up at her friend, who’d been ignoring her for the past half an hour.
‘Child, she can’t hear you, she’s got her head up in those clouds. Let her have her fun,’ pressing his walking stick hard into the grass, a grey haired man let his weight drop onto the object, giving him an uneven stature, as though one shoulder was an inch higher than the other. His face was drawn with wrinkles, two laugh lines either side of his lips where life had been kind to him with humour.
It was the year of 1930, the golden years of the 20’s had passed, and the scare of the war had slowly faded away, things weren’t as good as they could be, but people made do. The fair had come to New York and everyone had turned up to see it; everyone meaning exactly that. After the war, deaths had become a common thing; no one was surprised if you woke up to find your neighbour was no longer there. It had become harder to feed yourself, harder to find work, to get good pay and to earn a proper living like you did before. Criminals had gone crazy, and everyone had reason to be scared of their own shadow. So when the 20’s came around, people thought life would liven up; and it did, in some aspects. But the deaths still seemed to lower, and the strange thing was, with every death that came, there was no body to be found; just blood. The people were never seen again, and so people began to worry once more.
The reign of a new president came to force, and the balance was tipped back to stable, the deaths no longer a worry; as long as it wasn’t you that died you didn’t care. America looked bright, it looked like the way forward, the new world, and you were lucky to live there. No one did ever find out what happened to the large amount of missing people; posters were plastered on walls and shops, searches were taken on moors and darkened alleys, but whatever was causing these incidents, never left any trace.
Laughter filled the young girls head as the carousel went around once again. She was standing up on the horse, her head tipped back and her hands holding loosely onto the bar that speared the creature’s middle. A bubblegum pink dress flowed around her knees, a holster strap around her neck and a stripped bow across her middle; pulling it in and showing her figure at its best. A satchel hung over her left shoulder, her pink pumps sticking out of the top, tanned toes on the cold metal of the carousel. Eighteen year old Daisy Newton was a free spirited, naive young girl that was up for anything. She lived with her Grandfather; George, her Father having been killed in the war, her Mother having run away to find another love, and her Brother away and married. The two were more like best friends than relations; they’d tell each other stories, share secrets, have a laugh, and worked together, instead of arguing.
‘Daisy!’ the ride came to a stop, and an angry blonde teenager had jumped onto the carousel, her hands across her chest as she stared at the dazed redhead. ‘I’ve been calling you since forever, are you ignoring me-‘
‘Calm down, Amy,’ Daisy smiled, jumping down off of the horse to stand by her friend’s side ‘don’t see why you always have to be in a rush-‘
‘There’s been another murder,’ both girls stood in silence, their arms getting brushed by little children as they clambered onto the carousel for the next ride. ‘Dad heard about it on the way back from work; he was just leaving the cafe and someone came in to tell Florie... it was Daniel... he’s gone missing,’
Daniel Nixon was a young 20-something boy who helped around the cafe with his Mother and had his eye resting on a rather beautiful Louisa Kendal. His hair was a dirty blonde, and he had these big, strong brown eyes like his Fathers. He wasn’t like the rest of the males around there, hooked up on god knows what, and looking for a free night of anything with anyone; he was responsible; he was going to take over the cafe.
‘Missing doesn’t mean dead, Amy,’ Daisy told her, jumping onto the fresh grass and sticking her shoes back on ‘maybe he’s just gone away for a bit... maybe he’s gone to buy Louisa a ring!?’ excitement crossed Daisy’s face, and her smile broadened ‘oh, wouldn’t that be lovely. A summer wedding, they can have it here! I don’t mean at the fair – although that would be great! I mean on this land, it’s big enough to fit loads of people. Oh Amy, he’s gone to buy her a ring!’ jumping up, the red headed girl hugged her friend before darting off, not waiting to hear the rest of the story that there was to tell.
Daisy had a big imagination, and was a very optimistic girl; if anyone had any bad news, there was surely a way she could turn it around to make it good again. Smiling to herself, she skipped towards the end of the fairground- ready to go home and tell people of the wonderful news-to-be, when a new attraction caught her eye; the all of mirrors. Taking a coin from her pocket, she placed it where the store holder should be, before pushing open the door and going inside. It was what the plaque outside had said; a hall of mirrors. Plastered to every possible corner was a mirror, loads of Daisy’s reflected in the room. Stepping forward, she put her hands out and a pane of glass came to touch, inches away from hitting her own face. Feeling the glass, she found the edge and slowly moved past the first peace until she was standing in a square – to the effect of a walk in wardrobe, each wall covered in a mirror, so that as she turned, all the reflections turned.
Glancing in the mirror ahead, Daisy stepped forward and examined her reflection, a hand coming up and running through her fiery hair. Pushing it back, she lazily pulled it up and stuffed in a clip to hold. There was a rustle behind her and she jumped slightly, spinning around to see who it was; a boy – around her age, give or take, was standing a few centimetres behind her. A smile graced her face once again, and she greeted the boy with it.
‘I’m sorry... I didn’t realise anyone else was in here... I was just...’ turning back, she pointed towards the mirror ‘looking at my reflection... and-‘ stopping mid sentence, she stared into the mirror again, only to see herself being reflected. Blinking, squinting, and staring hard made no difference; there was only her. Turning back towards the boy, Daisy frowned only to see he wasn’t there. But no thought of worry crossed her mind; she had of course imagined him, for he hadn’t had a reflection, so it wasn’t real.
‘Daisy?’ Amy’s voice carried through the room and the girl tarred herself away from the mirrors.
‘I’m coming,’ she replied, taking one last glance t the room before feeling her way out again. Amy was waiting on the outside, her hands over her head as she tried to stop herself from getting wet; while Daisy had been in the hall of mirrors, a storm had brewed and was now falling.
‘Can we go? I don’t want to get wet; my Mum would kill me if my dress got ruined,’
Both girls agreed on going back to Daisy’s house. George was asleep in his favourite armchair by the radio, and Earl; the greyhound asleep by his feet.
‘What were you doing in the hall of mirrors?’ Amy asked, lying on Daisy’s bed, her hands behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling. ‘You’re not supposed to go in there; that’s why there wasn’t anyone at the entrance to take money, no one wanted any. It’s dangerous! Don’t you remember, someone went missing in there a month ago... they went in... And never came out again-‘
‘I do believe it’s a very hard place to find your way out of; but I don’t think anyone could go missing in there,’ Daisy replied; no sense of humour about her words as she stared out of the bedroom window; sat on a puffy armchair.
‘You’re not taking anything seriously lately,’ a cushion came to the back of Daisy’s head, Amy now sitting up and the culprit who had thrown it ‘it’s getting annoying as well, what's wrong with you?’
‘There’s someone in the garden,’ Daisy stated, getting up to her feet and standing closer to the window; it was now dark outside, and still raining, making it hard to fully see. True to what she had said, a boy as standing out in the garden, his hands in his pockets, looking straight up towards her. ‘It’s the one from the hall of mirrors,’ she spoke mostly to herself, for she hadn’t told Amy of her experience, seeing as she hadn’t thought it real then.
‘What do you mean?’ Amy moved to stand by her friend, leaning on her shoulder so he could get a closer look.
‘Can you not see him? There... he’s got brown hair,’ putting her hand up to the glass, Daisy pointed and Amy looked appalled.
‘Why is there a boy standing outside your window? Throw something at him... get rid of him... who does he think he is? Looking in girls windows a night...’ by this time, Daisy had blocked out what her friend was saying and she was simply staring down at him; non moving from his position, even though two girls were now ogling out at him; Amy with a towel on her head, and Daisy in a nightdress. ‘... I’m going to go and tell him to go away, come with me. He can’t kill both of us-‘
‘Kill us?’ Daisy asked, turning back to her friend wide eyed ‘he’s not going to kill us... is he?’ both girls stared for a moment, before Amy turned away, grabbing a bat from off the floor and gripping his tight.
‘No, he’s not going to kill us,’ taking each others hands, the two girls made their way down the stairs and past the sleeping Granddad and dog.
The garden was soaked, so the two girls had pulled on their wellies, hands still gripped tightly together as they moved out into the back garden, the moon their only light, so they didn’t move in too far in case they couldn’t get back.
‘Where did he go?’ Amy whispered, pulling Daisy along who was tugging at her dressing gown that she’d grabbed on the way out.
‘He was over at the back... by the trees-‘
‘All the way at the back?’ Amy’s grip tightened on the bat, but she went on all the same ‘he needs to be taught a lesson-‘
‘You don’t have to act so brave, Amy... it’s really okay-‘ a rustle in the tree’s startled both the girls into another silence, Amy gripping so hard onto Daisy’s hand, she believed it stopped the circulation.
‘Who’s there?’ Daisy spoke first, her voice strangely steady as she let go of Amy’s hand and moved forward; there was another rustle, before the boy revealed himself.