This week, I didn't receive a Flash Fiction prompt from Chuck. So, I dug into my archives of emails from the past he's sent us... and found a few titles we have played with just last year or so. This one is just over the 1,000 word mark; and based in a real cemetery here in Brisbane - which really is part of a Ghost Tour and really is rumoured to be haunted.
enjoy.
We stepped off the bus as the sun was
setting outside the Toowong Cemetery, as our guide talked to the guard outside
the gates. I had brought along my camera – an old film camera, with a few extra
rolls – and my phone to take some photos, but I found that everyone else was
quietly muttering amongst themselves.
“Now, when you’re all ready, we’ll begin the
tour.” Richard’s strong voice called across to us and we walked to him as he
gestured to us to stay close, “I don’t want to lose any of you here – this place
is rumoured to be haunted and isn’t an open cemetery.”
“Ooooh, haunted.” The guy next to me nudged
my arm, rolling his eyes, “I’m so scared.”
“You’re visiting Brisbane?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He smiled, “This Ghost Tour is cool.
Funny as hell, but cool.” He walked off towards the gates to get a photo of
first pathway into the place, then came back. When he saw I wasn’t amused by
what he had said before, he really looked at me, “You’re not taking what he
said seriously, are you?”
“Listen, I’ve lived in this city all my
life. And I’ve seen and heard some pretty weird things – personally – and I can’t
explain them. And this cemetery has my great-nanna in it. I just hope we walk
past her plot.” I walked away as the group followed Richard, leaving the guy
behind.
The tour was wonderful.
Our tour guide knew every single piece of
history there was to know about this place – very impressive; and seeing I live
in Brisbane, I thought I had heard it all. But I gotta say, I learned some new
things about this cemetery while we walked around the place.
Richard took us to some of the oldest parts
of Toowong Cemetery and I started looking for some of my family. I pulled on my
headlamp, looked around and read the headstones carefully.
Then, there it was.
My Great-Nanna’s plot!
I stopped, smiled, pulled out my film camera and took a few photos, then took a photo with my camera and texted it to Dad. Then looked around at the surrounding plots to see if there were anyone else I knew... there wasn’t.
“Miss Anders!” Richard’s voice called from
my right in the distance, “Please don’t be left behind!” I heard him coming
closer, until he was standing right next to me, “Did you find something?”
“Yeah, my Great-Nanna... I thought to take a
few photos.” I smiled.
“Aaah, yes, of course you can’t get in here
without an appointment; and even then, it’s months to wait on a list.” He sighed,
“Let’s see if you’ve got other family members here, usually they’re buried
nearby.”
“No. I think Nanna was the last one buried
here. The other plots were sold off.” I said feeling kind of sad that I couldn’t
get in here to be with my family at the end of my life anymore.
“Actually, there is another plot right here.”
Richard said. He shone his large ‘Dolphin’ torch right on a relatively new
headstone right next to my Nanna’s grave, as he began to read it out: “ ‘Elizabeth
May Anders. Born 5th, October, 1973 – 30th, September,
2017. Beloved daughter, Aunty and friend to everyone who met, knew and loved
her. ‘The Time Lords Are Waiting’” he stood, frowning, “Well, that’s really
strange, a pre-dated headstone.”
“Well, it must have been a mistake done on
it... like the year or something.” One of the ladies suggested from the back.
But as I looked at it, I knew it wasn’t. It
looked like it had been here a few weeks; and that it wasn’t going anywhere
soon, “I gotta get a photograph of this.”
Richard moved for me as I prepared to
photograph it with both the film camera and the phone... in case one of them
didn’t work out, “Okay, people just follow the guard back to the front gates
and we’ll catch up with you.” He waited until we were both alone, before asking,
“That’s you isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I fidgeted with the charms on my
phone, “I want to know how this has happened?”
“You’re not the first to see this kind of
thing; nor will you be the last.” He said, “Come on, we’ll do some research and
see what’s going on.”
Flashing lights of emergency crews woke me.
The ambulance guy working on me glanced over
at me, “Hey! She’s awake! Do you know what happened?”
I felt so calm, and yet knew something was wrong
with my body. But I couldn’t feel any pain: “Where am I?”
“The bus you were on was in an accident.
Everyone except you and three others are injured.” He looked at other things on
me as he worked hard, “You were wearing you seat belt, but it broke... damned
bus wasn’t maintained properly.” He whispered.
I touched his hand, stopping him from what
he was doing: “What is the date?”
He glanced up at a calendar on the wall of
the cabin of the ambulance, “It’s the 30th, September, 2017.”
“My injuries?”
He looked to his hands, “I’m not sure. I’m
no doctor. I can only stabilise you; but you’re on Life Flight; and the doc
will be here soon....”
Soon...
...soon...
.......soon.....
We stepped off the bus as the sun was setting outside the Toowong Cemetery, as our guide talked to the guard outside the gates. I had brought along my camera – an old film camera, with a few extra rolls – and my phone to take some photos, but I found that everyone else was quietly muttering amongst themselves.
“Now, when you’re all ready, we’ll begin the
tour.” Richard’s strong voice called across to us and we walked to him as he
gestured to us to stay close, “I don’t want to lose any of you here – this place
is rumoured to be haunted and isn’t an open cemetery.”
