The Barn and The Guide

The nostalgic scent of that old barn fills her nostrils as she opens the rotting door. So much of her childhood was spent within these wooden walls. What once felt like they towered over her and made her feel so insignificant within them were now just a memory, a rotting memory.

Running her hands over the notches as she makes her way inside. What is the feeling growing inside her? Is it remorse? Anxiety? Dread… that was it. Dread. Whatever happened here felt like a hazy dream but she has to continue. They need to know the truth.

A sun stained patch of straw lays beneath one of the open windows, if you lay her you can gaze up at the moon and the stars on a clear night or bathe in the rays beaming down. A happy memory, a loving memory. Compact and untouched for some time.

She is vaguely aware of the men following her into the barn, but she feels safe. Not like last time, not like that night. Dread, there is that feeling bubbling into her throat again. Guided into the open space, she inhales deeply, breathing in the atmosphere. Dusty. A faint scent of decay fills her lungs. She coughs politely into the crook of her elbow. There is a familiar scent, almost sweet like perfume but not quite enjoyable. Perhaps it is one of the fellows in there with her. Nothing but straw and dust, dust and straw. But that smell…

We are here, together, in this barn. I can’t quite believe my luck! It was only this morning that I saw him with that girl from the year above. I have worn my favourite blue dress, it flares when I spin. Everything is perfect.

The moonlight is beaming down on my favourite spot, where I sit and read most days. Maybe we will kiss there! My first kiss! The thought just makes me sick with joy. They don’t know we are in here, this old place isn’t used for anything anymore. I found it when I was just a young child. It is my secret place and now he is here with me.

We sit in my spot. Perfect. He looks into my eyes and edges close. I almost can’t contain my excitement at this moment. His hand touches my thigh and runs up inside my nice blue dress. This is just a little too much. I stop his hand with my own and he does like the gentleman he is. And then there is that kiss. Soft, wet and everything I want it to be.

The memory hangs in her mind like the scent hanging in the musty air of that old barn. A tear rolls down her cheek for that moment of pure happiness. Another 5 steps into the space and she sees the beam. Rotting like the rest but sturdy, like atlas holding up the earth. It is tall and overwhelming. There are nails hammered in here and there but nothing out of the ordinary. Except one. One nail, slightly bent out of shape with a tiny thread of blue cotton hanging from it, swaying in what little breeze is flowing through the room. She points it out, they bag it up.

It is getting late and he is leaving. The best night of my life and I am not quite ready to go home yet. He offers to walk me home and hesitates when I decline. I want to stay in my happy place for just a little longer as I have most nights. I feel at home here. He leaves with a concerned look on his face and asks me to call as soon as I am home. I agree whilst the warmth spreads to my cheeks. He really cares. What a beautiful feeling.

He is gone and I am left with my thoughts and the silence of the cool evening. Everything is perfect in my old barn. I swing around the beam that shoots up to the rafters. Spinning and spinning in ecstasy.

A noise from behind me startled me into a quick stop. My dress has snagged on a rusty old nail. I look down to see the damage, carelessly forgetting what has made me stop spinning.

I hear a large crack and a sudden force to my head. The barn is dark and I can no longer see. Dread.

She feels the air grow cold around her, the icy grip brushing from the crown of her head to the base of her throat and tightening. Panic glazing all other emotions. She is still, unable to put one foot in front of the other. She is here. I am here. She disturbs the straw beneath her feet. The congealed dark blood stains the wooden floor beneath. It streaks in one direction, behind a haystack.

The sickening sweet smell is now overpowering. Perfume mixed with death and decay. She wants to vomit. I feel it in her stomach.

She can feel me in her mind. She can see what I have seen. I am her guide.

There it is, please see. There is my body.