Forever is a Long Time

ehind my house, across some allotments is a graveyard. From my window I can see into it, through a gap in the trees caused by a fire some years ago. It is not a very nice graveyard, neither is the Church that stands in the middle of it. It dates back several hundred years and is a gross red monstrosity. It was built by a Catholic, but it is Church of England. It is ugly.

Upon reading this you might be wondering why I have divulged a monologue of such apparent irrelevance. You probably do not even care about this church, and quite rightly so. If this was all I had to say then I would not have said it at all. Unfortunately this is not the case.

During the months of summer children play within this yard. I assume they always did. I know I used to. Running to and thro among the stones. Not a care in the world. No horror lurks there while the sun is out.

About this time I suspect you think I will launch into a tale of ghostly phantoms or midnight grave robbing, but you would do me an unintentional dis- service. My horror comes lurking out of the gloom on hot summer afternoons.

The gloom I refer to is the searing brightness of a hot July afternoon. The sun is too bright to do anything but lie around and sip mineral water.

On such afternoons when I was home from school, I used to go to my room and read a book. It was on a afternoon like this that I chanced to see some activity outside in the graveyard.

Moving between the stones were the figures of two small children about eight or nine years of age. The were very alike in appearance although one was obviously a boy and the other a girl.

He was dressed in a little blue sailors outfit, she in a summer dress and hat. The hat had flowers in it. They were playing with a small red ball, throwing it between them, laughing as children do. After a few minutes they moved out of sight and I could hear them no more.

They appeared on other days. Not every day, only when it was very hot. At first I thought they were the children of some local family, but I knew of no such children in our close knit community.

This might have continued indefinitely had I not been walking through the graveyard one afternoon. I did not need to pass the area viewed from my window, but I was in no hurry and I felt like making the detour. It was no longer really.

They were not there at first, I did not really expect them to be. Suddenly the sun came out, melting the shadows of the gravestones, bringing with it the children. They started to play, but as I drew closer, they became aware of my presence (although I am sure they must have been for some time), and ran off behind the church, laughing. Their voices disappearing on the breeze.

From this time on I continued to make this detour. I had found the answer, even though I did not know I was searching for it. At first I did not realise what I had discovered. My mind did not piece it together as fast as my subconscious. However a slow icy chill crept up my back, that afternoon as I walked, climaxing in a mad dash for my home.

Why such paranoia you ask? Why so much fright over a couple of children? It was their laughing.

I had subconsciously suspected they were not of this earth for some time hence, however it was only that day that it became clear. They were of this earth, but not of this time. They were remnants of twins buried more than a hundred years before, malevolent spirits, gremlins, call them what you like. They were no mere shadow of some lost soul. They were the embodiment of conscious. They could see, hear and move within our world, and would continue to do so for ever more.

Even when our world is dead and the sun is going nova, those spirits will roam the barren ground. There is nothing they cannot do, yet I suspect they will be running to and thro among the gravestones that will have long since perished. Forever is a long time.