sábado, 17 de novembro de 2018

Best Horror Story Ever - The Crystal Children, by CF

My old house was quite cozy and quiet but after the departure of my father, it became cold and sad.
Therefore, my mother decided to move out with me to "start a new life".

"Honestly, I don´t know where the former residents of this house went. But let me tell you, as a professional real estate salesman, that this home worths it! If we estimate well space, 10 people could live here and we don’t have to forget that it is at a very good price! This was a good choice on your part. Good luck with the move! "

After we said goodbye to the real estate salesman, Mr. Mickle, we went back to the house. We found out that it was already furnished and so we wouldn´t have much work with the move. It had been a tiring day, just like every day of long travels, so my mother and I went to bed.

I woke up with a start because of a strange and bizarre dream I had.

I tried to ignore the bad omens that dream usually bring me and I went back to snuggle. A short time later, I heard soft pats, as if it were someone very delicate knocking at the door or like rain dropping on the window. But how could it be raining in the heat of summer?

I got up to see what it was about. I left the room in very slow and careful steps but couldn´t avoid the sound of the creaking wood. I crossed the hallway to my mother's room. I peeked inside: it was dark and the only thing I could hear was her deep breath, so I closed the door again to keep the curtains and saw nothing beyond the small fountain in the yard. Maybe it was just some kind of insect, or something? The room was now lit by the moonlight reflecting on the dusty glass table. Delighted by the mixture of shades of blue, I approached the table. I noticed that on the tabletop there were marks on the dust, as if they were drawings made with the fingers on it. In one corner of the table there were two small marked hands. How strange ... they must have been made by the children of the masters who lived here before. I confess that in the days that followed I had trouble to sleep after all the incidents that were happening in that house.

After the described episode, there were additional weird unexplained situations: the room lamp moving on its own, furniture switching places, threats like "Go away!" or "Get out!" written in my books, amongst others. I didn´t like to admit that I was scared and afraid, and so I always invented some explanation for all the strange events that kept happening. But deep inside, I knew that something very wrong was happening. I didn´t feel safe in that house.

One day I talked to my mother about it. She didn´t respond very well: she thought I was lying. She thought I was doing all this because I wasn´t adapting well to the "new life" and wanted to go back to our old house. Since I didn't know anyone, I couldn’t ask for help, and if I went to the authorities they would think it was just another silly kid playing with them or, worse, they would send me to an asylum!

Whatever it was, I didn´t want anything to happen to me or to my mother and so I decided to investigate myself. I made a list of all the "strange" events that had happened and went to the library to look for information about the house.

The following Sunday I got up early and headed for the municipal library. I looked for references of this city in books and on the internet. After a few hours of intensive research, I resumed the following:

Crystal - a small coastal town inhabited by around 200 people including fishermen and surfers. Known for its wonderful white sandy beaches. A great place for those seeking the tranquility offered by the sea that surrounds 75% of the city. 

I also found pictures of the beaches and managed to find some old images. One of these images caught my attention: it was a black and white photograph of the extra room of my house. In this photograph there were six small children with their backs turned, alongside a lady with a young and attentive look standing by the children. The children were looking at the glass table where two little statues stood: a girl and a boy.

"Being a property of the fifties, the house and the furniture are very well maintained, don´t you think? It is amazing that only now the house has been bought. "- said a voice behind me.

I turned and faced an old man with a distant look.

"Hello Mr. Smith," I said to the librarian. "I see you know my house. Do you know who was living there before me and my mother?”

"What do you mean?"- he asked - "I mean, no one lived in this house before you. The house has been rented by several people over the years, but now that I think about it, no one has never been there for more than three weeks ..."

"What? I thought the former residents had bought the house." I said.

"And they did, but they left two weeks later. I don´t consider that "living in a house."

"And you know why they left?"

"I don´t know, kid. I've heard several stories about your house. The children of the city use it to play on Halloween. They say it’s haunted and so they don’t approach it. The elderly say not to get close, but they do not explain why. Stories that are nothing more than rumors ..."

"Well, rumors always have a point of truth and an origin. Do you know anyone who might know more about this? "

"Actually I have a hunch." - he said, handing me a paper with an address - "But why are you so worried? Nothing happens in your house, does it? "

"No, sir. But the classmates in my class don’t hang out with me and I think it’s due to these silly stories. I want to prove to them that everything they think about my house is nothing else than a story." - I lied to him piously - "Thank you, Mr. Smith."

Later I went to the given address. It took me to a friendly house not far from mine. I was greeted by a nice old lady who offered me tea and muffins. We talked about the village, overall. She always answered me in a cheerful way and made a point of explaining all the details of the village. She explained to me the whereabouts and history of the church, the fountain, the infirmary, and the inn.

She told me all about our neighbors and what each one did. She talked about everything except my house. I tried to get some information out of her, but she made sure to push always the subject aside. So I went as straight as possible to the subject:

"I learned a lot from you today, ma'am. But I'm curious about my new home. There are rumors that my house is ... different. Do you know anything about this?"

At that moment the nice lady changed completely. Her eyes got stuck on the floor and her cheerful smile faded.

"You know, your house is not known for the best reasons," - she said in a very low tone - "I don’t know if I should tell this to a kid like you, but terrible things happened in your house. When I was still young, your house used to be a school. But, it was a rather peculiar school better known as Crystal House. There were only two people working there: me and ..."

She put her hands to her face and fell silent for a moment. I felt her uneven breath:

"Is everything okay?" I asked worriedly.

Without answering my question, the lady slowly lifted her head, stared at me with tears in her eyes, and said very quietly:

"Sorry, boy. I can not tell you any more. Don’t look for answers for your own good. I would advise you to leave that house as soon as possible. Now, please, do not talk about it anymore."

"I'm sorry if I startled you, ma’am. I was just worried about the house. Unexplained things have happened and I was- "

"I SAID NOT TO MENTION THIS SUBJECT AGAIN!" - she shouted.

She got up from her chair and went to the door of the house, opening it. I realized what that meant. I got up and walked out.

I hurried back to the library before it closed. Now I had another clue to look for. A short time later I sat in the chair and leaned over the computer. I went to the search engine and searched for "Crystal House". It did not take long to find something useful:

October 3rd, 1923 Mrs. Green, the contractor responsible for building the children's asylum, was present at a meeting held at the housekeeper's residence. Mr. Allen, the mayor, thanked Mrs. Green for her work. The children's asylum is located in the district of Thornhill and its purpose is to provide orphaned children with a place to live. It is estimated that the house will host six children and was given the name of Crystal House. 

September 5th, 1925 The council decided today to close the Crystal House in Thornhill following the tremendous tragic events reported in the previous week by this newspaper. The management will determine which destination will be given to the house later.

 I looked at the articles over and over again to see if there were any other clues. I tried to look for newspaper articles but I did not find anything at all. My head was spinning not only because of the tiredness caused by not sleeping in the last few nights but also by the amount of information I had discovered that day.

Seeing me in despair, the librarian came to me and asked:
 "So? Have you spoken to the housekeeper? "

"Housekeeper?"

 "Yes. The address I gave you was Mrs. Judite, the housekeeper. Is everything all right? You seem worried."

 "Could be better..."

"What's the matter, boy?"

 "Well, if I tell you everything, you will not believe me. But I'm very confused and now that have told me that this lady is the housekeeper. I know I did something very wrong. I asked her a lot of things that I shouldn’t and probably brought back to her, horrible memories."

"I'm not going to make you tell me anything, but I'm going to ask you to go to sleep tonight. I'm sorry for what I'm going to tell you, but I've seen you with a better face! Maybe if you rest, you can organize better your thoughts during sleep."

I followed Mr. Smith's instructions. I went home hoping I could have a restful night but it did not go as I expected. When I got home, my mother paced impatiently in front of the door of the house:

"Hello, mother. What’s up?"

"Well, son, it looks like our house was broken in."

"What!? Did they steal anything from us? "

"I believe only some of our books. But it's not a case to worry about. I took to work with me all the I had of great value except you who have been away all day, fortunately."

"It was not a big deal?! What else did they do? "

"According to what I heard from the police, whoever the thief was, only moved the furniture."

"Police? Where are they? "They’re in the house doing some investigations. The commander said we can’t get into the house until everything is solved."

"And now, where are we going?"

"I don’t know. I think we're going to have to ask some neighbors for help since the nearest hotel is three hours away and I don’t have enough fuel. Do you know any of them? "

"Actually, I know Mrs. Judite but I do not think that would be a good idea ..."

"Of course, it is! It's a great idea!"

 And before I could say anything else, my mother took my hand and with a very determined look dragged me towards Mrs. Judite's house.

We knocked on the door, and shortly afterward Mrs. Judite opened it. I was amazed. No one would say that she had spent much of the afternoon crying a lot. She didn’t seem at all bothered by my presence, as if she was already waiting for me to appear again.

I was exhausted, I confessed. Yet I couldn’t fall asleep thinking that Mrs. Judite had omitted such a really big part of the story. It could be my last chance to be inside that house. Besides, I had a feeling the house was keeping a secret.

When they were all asleep, I left the guest room and walked around the house looking for some clues. I started looking for pictures in frames but I did not find any that look like my house.

Then I thought about looking for some documents about the house and headed to the office. The office was small and full of books, but the one that called my attention was a bookcase where rows of books were arranged. One of them was a row of half-dozen books all with the same cover where each spine marked a decade as if it was a collection of diaries.

 Looking more closely, I noticed that the 1920-1930 diary was missing.

"Where would such a lady keep something very important to her?" I went to her room. I opened the door very slowly and tiptoed my way in.

Making as little noise as possible I went to the bedside table of the lady who slept soundly. Beneath a prayer book, it was the diary! I took the diary with the utmost care and left the room.

With a heavy conscience, I opened the book and looked for the dates of September 1925. To mark these pages there were 7 portfolios of children. I started reading:

Mary 
Parents: unknown 
Age: 3 
Abandoned in a hospital after being diagnosed with Parkinson's 

Jane Styles 
Parents: Martha and James Styles 
Age: 4 
She was orphaned at the age of 2 after a tragic aviation accident 

Christof 
Parents: unknown 
Age: appears to be around 8 years old 
He was found fainted on the beach. He refuses to tell any kind of information about his past. He has serious cognitive difficulties and is suspected of having suffered some form of violence. 

Paul and Pauline Bright 
Parents: Ana and Mickle Bright 
Age: 10 
Both diagnosed with severe imperfect osteogenesis. Due to financial difficulties of the parents, the children were received in this house but to compensate, the mother Ana Bright offered her services as a nurse. 

Gimmy Stuart 
Parents: Angelina and Marko Stuart 
Age: 11 
Subtracted to parents after suspected cases of serious domestic violence have been confirmed. The parents were arrested for being both drug dealers. 

After reading the portfolios, I calculated that the children in the picture I had seen in the library referred to these. Without wasting time, I began to read the diary:

October 15th, 1925 
The kids are great and Ana has already adapted to her new work environment. She thinks they're adorable and says she would give everything to see them happy. You already know the names of all of them: Mary, Jane, Christof the twins Paul and Pauline and Gimmy. I think they like her too. Although they express themselves with difficulty and lack of abilities, I can see in their weak smiles that they also like Ana. Poor children... 

October 18th, 1925 
Planning my future trip to India is going as I expected. I hope I do not overload Ana. I asked her if she's going to be okay with the kids alone. She said that everything would go well and I would not have to worry. She said that if there was a day with good weather she would take the kids to the beach. I wish all the best for those children. I will leave tomorrow and, therefore, can’t write until 3 days from now. 

September 22th, 1925 
Today is the funeral of the children and Ana. Poor creatures, too young to die ... A tragic story, I confess. God bless you and give you peace and a good place in heaven. Those children did nothing to be born like this... 

After this day, Judite no longer wrote on the subject. Already slightly disgusted with what I had just read, I closed the book. When I closed it, a very thin sheet of paper with very old handwriting fell from the book. I forced my eyes to read what was written there:

"When you read this letter, I will probably not be here any longer. I can not deal with what I did to my own children. They deserve nothing of what happened to them and all due to my negligence and incompetence not only as a pediatric nurse but also as a mother.
Yesterday I thought it was a good idea to take the kids to the beach. When we left, I made sure the sea was calm and there were not many people on the beach. I let the children play freely on the beach. Distracted to feed Mary, I did not notice that the twins had been carried away by a wave. I went swimming as fast as I could, but when I reached them, it was too late. My poor crystal children died and I'm going to meet them now.
Sorry children, sorry Mrs. Judite and sorry husband
Ana Bright"

When I woke up, my mother and Mrs. Judite surrounded me:

"What happened?"

"Don’t worry son. I already know everything. When I got up I saw you passed out on the floor with these books all around. I asked Mrs. Judite what was this all about. The poor woman had to tell me the story. But why were you so curious?"

 At that moment, my head connected all the details:

"I already know who assaulted the house!"

"Who? How do you know?" – My mother asked confused.

"What is Mr. Mickel's nickname?"
"Mr. Mickel? The one who sold us the house? Bright, but why? "

"We have to go to the police now!"

"We will not go to the police until you tell me what's going on!"

"You already know the history of our house, right? The twins' father is Mr.Mickel and he must be haunting the house! "

 "But you can not accuse a person like that! How can you be sure it was him? "

"He lied to us about the ancient dwellers of the house. After this tragedy, no one has been in our house for more than three weeks. The librarian confirmed it to me! It was he who haunted the house and it was he who moved my books, slammed the window, robbed our house, amongst a lot of things! He does this to scare people so they do not "spoil" his sole memories of the woman and children since he was rarely with them."

 "But if that's what you're saying, what was the purpose of selling the house?" "He probably needed money so his only chance was this house."

"It really makes sense. He puts the house up on sale at a very cheap price to make people buy the house quickly. Then it scares people by using the pretext of "being haunted." The inhabitants, frightened, immediately left the house not caring about the money they left behind."

Convincing my mother after that was easy. The police went to meet Mr. McKickle, who was pressured by the police, confessed everything he had done and my suspicions were confirmed: there was no haunted house. Everything was just a rumor with a tip of truth.

In the waiting room of the police station, my mother told me:

"I'm sorry I did not believe you, son. Sometimes I still can not believe you're almost an adult and not a child ... "

"Do not worry about it, Mom. I know you've been very tired and miss my father. The last thing I want to cause you is trouble. "

"You were very brave, my son. You are like your father "

A week later, after the trial, my mother received the money back. Before we moved away again, we took Mrs. Judite with us and made a stop at the graveyard to pay tribute to the two children and their mother.

Their tombstones were together and said,

Here lay the twins Paul and Pauline and their mother, Ana Bright. A mother with a golden heart who gave birth to two children made of crystal

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