She was Dying, but she kept it to herself!

catseyeSilence! The sobbing stopped abruptly as it had started. The barn was empty. I pointed my flashlight into the corner, where I’d seen the baby swaddled in the hay. Nothing! I was losing my mind? Something moved behind me and I froze, remembering the sharp claws that dug into my shoulder the night before. Turning quickly, I prepared to run, but instead tripped over some old farming equipment, dropping my flashlight as I went down. It spun across the floor, stopping by the wall. Pushing myself up, I went to retrieve it. Something brushed against my legs. I heard a sound again. “Who’s there?” I asked. “Show yourself.” Two large manic eyes stared at me. It was a barn cat. She hissed at me, warning me away from a litter of new-born kittens. “Oh Thank God.”

A cat protecting her litter I could handle. It also explained the scratches from the previous night. No Daemon lurked in the barn, just a mother protecting her babies.

I need to get home, before Les comes looking for me. Hurrying down the road I wondered about my sanity (and not for the first time in my life), I had an overactive imagination, which is why I wrote for a hobby, but could my imagination really conjure up a baby in a barn? Surely not. Did I see kittens and think baby? I don’t think so!

When I got home Les was switching off the TV. “Did you get some good photos?” he asked.

“Not really, too dark.” I answered.

I didn’t sleep well that night. A voice resounded in my brain, a sweet, sad, but unfamiliar voice:

I’m dying, but I don’t want to say, I just don’t want to spoil the day, 

I’m dying, but I’ll keep it to myself.

I love you mum, I love you dad, you’re the best parents a girl ever had,

I don’t want to ever let you down. 

My secret is I have a child, I gave birth to a baby so meek and mild,

She’s safe and warm and you will never know.

I’m dying, but I don’t want to say, I just don’t want to spoil the day,

I’m dying but I’ll keep it to myself. 

Sitting up in bed I listened to Les snore. I wish I slept as well as him, hard to sleep when your next story is festering in your brain. Is this whats going on, is this a story trying to escape?


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