The property has a spare room that I (we) never really used, over the months my girlfriend used it as a store room, despite my original plans to use it as a reading and music room. Occasionally I would go into the room and sit in one of the chairs, but it was so uncomfortable being in there we never really used it.
I never actually saw anything in the room, but it was more a sense, a feeling, and it was really strong and fairly uncomfortable. Most of the people that visited the property would say it just felt different in that one room, and I often wonder if the shadows I saw outside the room stemmed from within.
I sat in the room one evening whilst I was alone, it was back in late February, and I swear the sense and feeling you got was as if someone had joined you, but they were all around you. A very odd sensation, and something I could never tune into. It felt like the room contained lots of voices that just wanted or were trying to talk to you all at the same time, and somewhat confusing.
There's a room in our house, where the door is kept closed.
ReplyDeleteWhat lies behind it, nobody knows.
Perhaps I will tell you, if you have the time.
It has all sorts of things, you never know what you'll find.
There's a couple of prams, a cradle and a cot,
A rocking chair, a wardrobe and clothes, it's got the lot.
But if you open the door carefully, with ne'er a sound,
You may see my dreams, shattered on the ground.
For my hopes and dreams are there, more than a few,
Never to be realised, never to come true.
If you wait awhile, 'till the sun goes down,
You might hear them whispering and moving around.
Sometimes you may hear a cry,
But it's not real, it's just a lie.
They try to escape, in the cool evening air,
They slip under the door, they know I still care.
But it hurts so much when my dreams reach me,
The tears flow freely, why must it be?
I know when the sun starts to rise,
My dreams run back to the room and hide.
They cannot cope with the harsh light of day,
Only in darkness can they come my way.
Reality is painful, it hurts to the core,
But as the light starts to fade, I look to the door.
My dreams lay there, my shattered ones,
I hear them talking, soon they will come.
(Sharon Swinney).