The willow tree

Sylvie, or Mrs. Potter to me, lived in the house opposite. She was
an elderly lady with greying hair, floral dresses and peppermint
smelling breath. Her house was the largest in the street but also the
most neglected. Ivy crept up, encroaching every millimetre of painted
white sandstone. Even the windows were covered in the green leaves
preventing anyone from looking in or out. Within her overgrown garden
stood a fully grown willow tree- its branches hung down to create a
dome shaped tent. As a small, child I had dreamt of endless games under
this fantastic natural den but my mother had forbade me from ever
entering the crooked, wooden gate that led to her garden. Only once had
I seen her, years back when I was no more than eight years old. I had
been playing alone in the street; bouncing my new ladybird, red ball up
and down. I threw it against the tarmac road surface too firmly and it
had proceeded to crash into Mrs. Potter's garden and then roll under
those great arms of willow. I tentatively stepped forwards and creaked
open the little gate. A rotting smell caused me to pinch on my nose but
I crept on towards the tree and closed my eyes, pushing my way through
the rustling greenery; into the open space. A shrill scream had leapt
from my little mouth as I took in the sight. A paper bag was thrust
towards me as a wrinkled face stared into my eyes. 'Peppermint dear?'
Croaked the husky voice; sweet mint aroma wafting out with every word.
Without turning back I darted out and rushed towards my house leaving
the gate ajar. I never once returned or even caught sight of her again.
Only in my mind did she remain- rotting away there- manifesting and
decaying&;#8230; into something horrible.

The doorbell rang urgently. My heart sank. I heard cheerful voices and
bags rustling. 'Mand, get down here. You're grans arrived.'
'Just coming mum.' I clenched my fist hard so that the nails pushed
painfully into my palm leaving indentations. 'Hi gran.' I breathed
silently; harshly, before I galloped down the stair case, two steps at
a time.
'Amanda dear! Come and give your gran a kiss.' She bellowed, eyes
smiling; wrinkles wrinkling. My face lit up deceptively. 'Hiya!' A wet,
sloppy kiss was planted on my cheek. I brushed my sleeve over my face
firmly and whipped my arm back down.
'Go put the kettle on Helen- I've got some nice shortcake's that need
eating. Marks and Spencer's own.'
'Sounds good mum. Mand, take your nan into the sitting room and move
your junk from that chair.'
'Go through Nan.' I beckoned as she sauntered slowly on; thick, puffy
legs dragging below thin, rippling dress.
'Thanks love. Ohhh&;#8230; my back don't half hurt after that bus
journey down here.' She halted and rubbed it with her hand. I edged
forwards, grabbed her frail arm then proceeded to lead her to the soft
chair by the fire place. 'That's nice of you dear.' Her mouth creased
into a beaming grin. She slumped down heavily and sighed contentedly.
'Amanda, could you do your gran a favour and fetch the biscuit tin from
that plastic bag down there. You are a good girl.' I reached into the
crisping, crackle of shopping bag and pulled out a dated, brown tin
reading 'Queens choice.' 'That's it dear, help yourself.' I prised the
container open and broke off a yellow, sugared shortcake piece. As I
sat down Mum came in carrying a tray of Clinking, Steaming teas.
'Here we are.' She placed them down on the coffee table and then
distributed them before sitting down herself. I bit into the sickly,
crumbling of biscuit placing a hand beneath to catch the crumbs. I
chewed and gulped down the mush dryly. My stomach gagged and I bit in
again, then again, swallowing every last wretched mouthful of baked
goodness. 'Is it ok if I leave you two, there's this essay I gotta
finish by tomorrow&;#8230;' I squeezed the arms of the chair,
preparing to push myself up.
'&;#8230;Oh&;#8230; right. Well, Mand, you're gran has just
arrived and she won't be staying long&;#8230;' Mum eyeballed me. I
stared directly back, blankly.
'It's ok dear&;#8230; She's a good girl- can't be getting reprimands
from the teachers. Go on, go on up and do your essay love.' The old
women's face wrinkled into a smile once again- her eyes slitting. I
took my empty mug to the kitchen and retreated to my room. I overheard
mum apologising on my behalf as I left.

Upstairs I shut my bedroom door and slumped onto my bed. Again I saw
those eyes staring at me- those eyes and that spider arm clutching the
paper bag. It wasn't nan's fault but she was one of them- I couldn't
trust her. I knelt up on my bed and looked out the window into the
darkness across to Mrs. Potter's house. It was eerily illuminated by
the nearby street light and the ivy was rustling in the breeze. She
would be in there now- plotting- watching my every movement; she would
be sitting by that upstairs window cursing my very name. I drew the
curtains fiercely and lay back down. My eyes grew heavy and flickered
open and shut dreamily- I prayed to stay awake for I knew she would
arrive that night. She would haunt me till morning&;#8230;

A bizarre numbness awoke me some time later. As I opened my eyes I was
completely disorientated- I felt a sensation as if I was falling or
being suspended at an angle. The sugar frosted ceiling had disappeared
or been torn away to reveal a blackness amongst which were blurs of
orange light. A bed no longer supported me as I toppled back and landed
with a severe pain on a hard surface. My eyes slowly adjusted and my
thoughts began to process the surroundings. I was in fact, outside,
amongst the silence of the street; sitting beside a small wooden fence.
It was Mrs. Potter's fence. The bitter cold, pierced into me like a
knife and my teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. My pocket bulged
and crackled; I felt inside and pulled out a plastic bag- a smile
inched over my face knowingly. Tonight was the night.

As I shut the door softly the musty smell combined with a sweet, sticky
odour was overwhelming. The house was unbearably hot and humid- warmth
seeped from an electric heater plugged in near the entrance. A single
bedside lamp sat on an antique coffee table beside, revealing an open
bag of glistening, white peppermints. I reached for the wretched things
and hurled them across the carpet- many little thuds ensued as it
became littered with tiny balls. Where was she? Darkness covered the
house like a blanket; every object appeared threatening and unfamiliar.
I tiptoed through to the kitchen- images of sharp knives hung from the
wall and the sound of a dripping tap grew louder and louder in my ear;
the aroma of coffee was still strong. Not here. I moved through to a
small lounge and flicked on the light switch. The bare, white glow lit
up dozens of black and white photo's in frames- mainly of children,
innocent past victims. One dated sofa sat by a pine cupboard in which
bone china plates were displayed. The sofa covering was a muddy brown;
the material had been severely worn and tattered. Suddenly I heard soft
thuds on the carpet, my breath halted sharply and my body froze. I spun
round&;#8230; it was only a cat prowling towards me. It's eyes
stared up, shimmering in the light and it arched it's ginger, white
streaked coat whilst hissing and spitting viciously. I stared back. It
slinked up to my legs and weaved in and out, its hard body pressing
against me. I kicked away and headed up the stairs; they were bare wood
and squeaked as I put pressure on them. When I reached the top, all was
silent. I creaked open each door but found no sign of the old women,
only an empty double bed with yellowing sheets hanging off the
edge.

Outside again, the cold air bit into my cheeks and hands; icy specks
blew through the wind, pricking at my skin. The arms hung down just
like they had done when I was eight. They tormented and whispered,
challenging an intruder. My breath became laboured as I neared the
green igloo. I fumbled for the bag again and held it open by the two
handles. 'Bye Sylvie' I whispered, flicking my hair back from my face.
In one swift movement I pushed through the tree and pulled the
crackling plastic over the wrinkled head that welcomed me. I forced my
hand over the mouth and nose before she had time to scream. The body
squirmed with shaking fear and spider arms spayed out helplessly. Her
turkey neck gulped franticly, searching for air. I counted the seconds
as if they were hours but before long I knew I would never fear again,
she would be gone. After a time, the convulsing body became weaker and
the movements only occasional; arms hung limp. Finally the frail thing
collapsed and slumped down towards the ground- I felt for a pulse;
there was none.

The sound of footsteps and then a rustling broke through the deathly
silence. My eyes squinted shut as a bright beam of light fell onto them
and flooded the small space. A piercing, scream followed and a tray
crashed to the ground. This time it was me who began to shake with
fear. 'Jane! Oh Jane, Jane, Jane&;#8230; J&;#8230;J' cried the
shaky voice, staggering and stuttering over the words. I looked up at
the figure, my heart pounded as I saw Mrs. Potter, her floral dress
hung below a grey, buttoned anorak and frightened, tearful eyes sunk
below her grey hair. My body felt weightless and my head spun dizzily
as I turned to remove the bag from the cold corpse. I felt my body as
if it were resting above, an outsider looking down. The word 'Nan' fell
softly of my dry tongue as I stared into the eyes that stared back,
unblinking. On the muddy, barked soil lay two smashed mugs and puddles
of coffee, steam rising up in misty clouds; by the side were broken
shortcake pieces. My body lifted higher, I saw black and white photo
images littered around. There was one of Granddad who had lost his life
in the war and then a picture of another man by his side. Spotted with
mud were piles of letters, some from Granddad to Nan. I scoured the
others, my body vibrating and head buzzing. A few words jumped out at
me, '&;#8230;My dear Slyvie&;#8230;words cannot express my love
for you&;#8230; whether I get through this or not&;#8230; I'll
always love you&;#8230;' I looked back to Sylvie- her vulnerable
eyes brimmed with tears and small gasps leapt from her mouth. Her
broken frame fell to the ground and cradled nans head. The willow tree
shook as a large gust of wind roared through the garden.