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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Loneliness / Solitude
- Published: 06/30/2010
The Unseen
Born 1988, F, from Singleton, Lancashire, England, United Kingdom![The Unseen](/storage/story/9496100107071642daydream-image(344x285-crop).jpg)
(Note that the author was 17 years old when she wrote this story.)
‘Connor I think you should come inside, it’s getting late.’ His father bellowed out of the kitchen window into the lukewarm night.
‘In a few minutes,’ a voice responded faintly out of swarthy shadows lingering in the overgrown back garden.
After grumbling and switching on the kettle, his father objected. ‘I don’t know what on earth you’re doing out in the garden this late, but you’ve got until I make this cup of tea, and then you’re going to bed.’
Just a few metres away from the kitchen window lay Connor, sprawled out on a dark maroon rug he had found under the stairs, surrounded by empty foil crisp packets and teddy bears and toys he had dragged out from his room.
The four hours he had spent outside had been sufficient… to admire the glistening sky, indeed. But Connor knew he could gaze at Alice forever. To him, she was like a princess from a storybook, a delicate fairy that flew around his room at night.
And there she lay. Her fair, flourishing locks shimmered with the winking stars and her generous, sapphire eyes were like two fragile diamonds, reflecting every colour imaginable.
‘So what will our house be like? When we get married?’ she smiled. She spoke smoothly, like a running waterfall, like a soft petal gliding in the autumn breeze. And to Connor, her voice was a story heard for the first time. Or a chorus of singing angels.
Connor loved to tell stories, and a reason why he loved to be with Alice was because she – and only she – wanted to hear them.
“Well, we live in a castle. It is a grand, stone castle. And out the front there’s a pond… no, a lake, filled with white flowers and blue and orange fish. And… a little green rowing boat… where we fish in summer. There are silver statues… statues of angels, and they guard our house. We light fires inside in winter, when it snows. And we all cuddle up; you, me and the dog….’
Her eyes lit up, ‘What is he called?’
‘Benny. And he is the friendliest dog in the world. He is brown and cuddly and smells of strawberries, so we let him sleep in the bed. And guess what else?’
‘What, what??’ she moved closer to him.
‘Benny… he talks.’
She gasped, ‘really?’
‘Yep. He tells jokes all the time, but sometimes we get annoyed because he doesn’t shut up!’
She giggled, ‘Oh, I can’t wait. It is going to be just wonderful.’
They both let out a sigh of content and the conversation soaked into the wind, like water soaks into an old, dry sponge, leaving an aftermath of silence lingering between the towering blades of grass.
Like a creeping spider Alice’s pale hand inched towards Connors and she let her fingers intertwine with his. They both held their heads to the sky, and without making eye contact, or even acknowledging each other, their increased heart rates seemed to force the corners of their lips to rise, stretching to the sky. And as they both lay smiling, they both fantasized about the warm castle that awaited them. The warm castle that would remain in a distant dreamland. Waiting…
As the unseen.
*****
The next morning Connor skipped downstairs to be welcomed by a line of questioning.
‘Have you been feeling alright lately, darling?’ his mother’s soft expression was accompanied by a plate of warm crumpets drizzled in butter.
‘Fine, thank you.’
‘What were you doing outside so late last night?’
‘I was just… looking at the stars.’
His Mother mumbled ‘Oh’ and his father looked up from his paper to fire bullets of frowns.
‘Look at the stars?! We buy you all these toys and video games and whatnot and you want to spend time…’
‘What your father means,’ she interrupted, ‘is that we could understand, but it was very late at night and awfully cold and…’ Connor carried on eating his crumpets, as it seemed his parents didn’t have any reasons for their suspicions. He preferred not to tell them about Alice, as they wouldn’t appreciate her as he did. She was his girl.
‘Connor hunny, we know you’ve been having trouble at school, and if that’s what is worrying you, it needn’t. Mrs Gladdell is sorting those bullies out remember, OK hunny?’
But he didn’t worry about the bullies… not when he was with the angel.
‘They’ll get their comeuppance, Connor,’ his father said.
Placing chunks of jam on his plate, Connor attempted to change the subject, ‘I have made a story,’ he grinned. But the grin was plastered on a troubled face. His eyes were cracked, and like smashed mirrors they remained glaring downwards, ashamed that his parents knew so little about him. And the troubles that carried on chasing him remained. Lingering…
As the unseen.
*****
‘Really? A story? Wow, that’s very clever of you, hunny.’ His mother beamed.
‘It’s about this King and Queen who live in a castle, they have a talking dog and…’
‘Oh, Connor, you are going to have to tell us later, we have to rush in to see our solicitor this morning.’ He suddenly realised both his parents were dressed smartly, and his father had shaved.
His father tried to reassure his son’s confused expression, ‘it’s just business Connor, we need to sort something out and we both have to go. Only for an hour, is that OK?’
Connor gave a weak nod. He had never been left in the house on his own before.
His mother grabbed a pile of files of the kitchen counter and kissed his cheek, ‘and you can tell me your story when I get back, OK?’
He nodded again and watched his parents leave the kitchen.
‘I’ve locked all the doors,’ his mother’s head popped back round the door, ‘so that you are safe. Don’t turn on the cooker or the oven, OK? And you can ring me if you need to.’
When he heard the door shut he scuttled to his room with a plate full of crumpets. As he curled up on his bed and munched them he thought about Alice. He could spend some special time with her for the next hour because his parents were out. They could play some board games, or out in the garden; the weather seemed bright enough.
But in the back of his mind was that echoing voice that he tried so hard to ignore.
It told him.
It told him why Alice could visit… even though the doors were locked…
Alice could walk through walls, she could appear, and disappear, and do whatever he wanted. He would wish for her… and she would come. And the reason why Connor’s mother and father couldn’t see her, or anyone else for that matter, was because of what she actually was. She was a plentiful flower, blooming in Connor’s mind. A gust of golden wind that entered his window at night and washed away his problems like a curing rainstorm. Even though Connor didn’t want to admit it, she would only ever be a glittering star cast on the dark walls in his mind. And there she would remain, as the invisible friend.
As the unseen.
The Unseen(Beccy Rimmer)
(Note that the author was 17 years old when she wrote this story.)
‘Connor I think you should come inside, it’s getting late.’ His father bellowed out of the kitchen window into the lukewarm night.
‘In a few minutes,’ a voice responded faintly out of swarthy shadows lingering in the overgrown back garden.
After grumbling and switching on the kettle, his father objected. ‘I don’t know what on earth you’re doing out in the garden this late, but you’ve got until I make this cup of tea, and then you’re going to bed.’
Just a few metres away from the kitchen window lay Connor, sprawled out on a dark maroon rug he had found under the stairs, surrounded by empty foil crisp packets and teddy bears and toys he had dragged out from his room.
The four hours he had spent outside had been sufficient… to admire the glistening sky, indeed. But Connor knew he could gaze at Alice forever. To him, she was like a princess from a storybook, a delicate fairy that flew around his room at night.
And there she lay. Her fair, flourishing locks shimmered with the winking stars and her generous, sapphire eyes were like two fragile diamonds, reflecting every colour imaginable.
‘So what will our house be like? When we get married?’ she smiled. She spoke smoothly, like a running waterfall, like a soft petal gliding in the autumn breeze. And to Connor, her voice was a story heard for the first time. Or a chorus of singing angels.
Connor loved to tell stories, and a reason why he loved to be with Alice was because she – and only she – wanted to hear them.
“Well, we live in a castle. It is a grand, stone castle. And out the front there’s a pond… no, a lake, filled with white flowers and blue and orange fish. And… a little green rowing boat… where we fish in summer. There are silver statues… statues of angels, and they guard our house. We light fires inside in winter, when it snows. And we all cuddle up; you, me and the dog….’
Her eyes lit up, ‘What is he called?’
‘Benny. And he is the friendliest dog in the world. He is brown and cuddly and smells of strawberries, so we let him sleep in the bed. And guess what else?’
‘What, what??’ she moved closer to him.
‘Benny… he talks.’
She gasped, ‘really?’
‘Yep. He tells jokes all the time, but sometimes we get annoyed because he doesn’t shut up!’
She giggled, ‘Oh, I can’t wait. It is going to be just wonderful.’
They both let out a sigh of content and the conversation soaked into the wind, like water soaks into an old, dry sponge, leaving an aftermath of silence lingering between the towering blades of grass.
Like a creeping spider Alice’s pale hand inched towards Connors and she let her fingers intertwine with his. They both held their heads to the sky, and without making eye contact, or even acknowledging each other, their increased heart rates seemed to force the corners of their lips to rise, stretching to the sky. And as they both lay smiling, they both fantasized about the warm castle that awaited them. The warm castle that would remain in a distant dreamland. Waiting…
As the unseen.
*****
The next morning Connor skipped downstairs to be welcomed by a line of questioning.
‘Have you been feeling alright lately, darling?’ his mother’s soft expression was accompanied by a plate of warm crumpets drizzled in butter.
‘Fine, thank you.’
‘What were you doing outside so late last night?’
‘I was just… looking at the stars.’
His Mother mumbled ‘Oh’ and his father looked up from his paper to fire bullets of frowns.
‘Look at the stars?! We buy you all these toys and video games and whatnot and you want to spend time…’
‘What your father means,’ she interrupted, ‘is that we could understand, but it was very late at night and awfully cold and…’ Connor carried on eating his crumpets, as it seemed his parents didn’t have any reasons for their suspicions. He preferred not to tell them about Alice, as they wouldn’t appreciate her as he did. She was his girl.
‘Connor hunny, we know you’ve been having trouble at school, and if that’s what is worrying you, it needn’t. Mrs Gladdell is sorting those bullies out remember, OK hunny?’
But he didn’t worry about the bullies… not when he was with the angel.
‘They’ll get their comeuppance, Connor,’ his father said.
Placing chunks of jam on his plate, Connor attempted to change the subject, ‘I have made a story,’ he grinned. But the grin was plastered on a troubled face. His eyes were cracked, and like smashed mirrors they remained glaring downwards, ashamed that his parents knew so little about him. And the troubles that carried on chasing him remained. Lingering…
As the unseen.
*****
‘Really? A story? Wow, that’s very clever of you, hunny.’ His mother beamed.
‘It’s about this King and Queen who live in a castle, they have a talking dog and…’
‘Oh, Connor, you are going to have to tell us later, we have to rush in to see our solicitor this morning.’ He suddenly realised both his parents were dressed smartly, and his father had shaved.
His father tried to reassure his son’s confused expression, ‘it’s just business Connor, we need to sort something out and we both have to go. Only for an hour, is that OK?’
Connor gave a weak nod. He had never been left in the house on his own before.
His mother grabbed a pile of files of the kitchen counter and kissed his cheek, ‘and you can tell me your story when I get back, OK?’
He nodded again and watched his parents leave the kitchen.
‘I’ve locked all the doors,’ his mother’s head popped back round the door, ‘so that you are safe. Don’t turn on the cooker or the oven, OK? And you can ring me if you need to.’
When he heard the door shut he scuttled to his room with a plate full of crumpets. As he curled up on his bed and munched them he thought about Alice. He could spend some special time with her for the next hour because his parents were out. They could play some board games, or out in the garden; the weather seemed bright enough.
But in the back of his mind was that echoing voice that he tried so hard to ignore.
It told him.
It told him why Alice could visit… even though the doors were locked…
Alice could walk through walls, she could appear, and disappear, and do whatever he wanted. He would wish for her… and she would come. And the reason why Connor’s mother and father couldn’t see her, or anyone else for that matter, was because of what she actually was. She was a plentiful flower, blooming in Connor’s mind. A gust of golden wind that entered his window at night and washed away his problems like a curing rainstorm. Even though Connor didn’t want to admit it, she would only ever be a glittering star cast on the dark walls in his mind. And there she would remain, as the invisible friend.
As the unseen.
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