This is a character that I'm working on for my next NaNo creation. I need to iron out some kinks but she seems like a cool character because she's a little crazy. This is a short I did for a contest a little while ago.
I should have known that Winona of 227 Alabaster Street would become a problem, but hind-sight is always 20/20 when it comes to these sorts of things. The husband and I wanted to start investing in Real Estate and the gorgeous Victorian, priced to sell appeared to be a good start. The problems were minor at first, dishes and silverware missing from the cupboards. I didn’t want to make a spectacle about it, after all, I had just bought the place and it was possible that I had just misplaced them.
Moving can be so taxing on one’s nerves. I spent several sleepless nights thinking about the morning to-do list. The sleeplessness was becoming alarmingly annoying. I started to hallucinate. I actually thought I saw a woman peering over my bed at 3 in the morning! Can you believe it!
When I awoke the next morning, I figured I must have been sleep walking again. I had done that often in my past when I became stressed in the city. I had hoped a move to a country setting would calm my nerves.
I came across my silverware and dishes on the front lawn while looking for more boxes in the Uhaul. They were just lying there plain as day on the lawn. It was just strange, but then again, my nightly walks were always strange.
My problems with Winona got interesting when I started to hear moaning in her room. I tried to be nice about it, giving her some privacy by knocking before I entered her room. I’d even put a pillow over my ears when I heard her late at night, but that was starting ware on my patience.
I was raised to be a good Christian woman and live by Christ’s teachings. I try not to think badly of others and their way of life. I knew she was a little different but it was becoming obvious to me that she didn’t seem to practice what she preached. She told me she was not evil. She said she was just a lost soul trying to find her way home. In the Corinthians 2 11:14 the Bible says, And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. I was starting to take my Bible readings a little more seriously at this point as far as she was concerned. I truly wondered if the Devil incarnate decided to dwell in my newly purchased home.
Lights staying on in the house became the next problem. I’d turn them all off and then they’d mysteriously be on in her room. I paid for the expensive electricity and I didn’t think it was nice of her to rack up my bills. I believe it was at that point that I became completely frustrated and wanted her gone. I remember screaming the words, Get out! at the top of my lungs. The house became cold. It was almost as if I knew Winona did not like that statement at all.
She protested by stomping on the floor till dust appeared from the ceiling. The banging was viciously loud and it was becoming obvious to me that she would not stop tormenting me until I apologized. I was mad, though, and I didn’t think I owed her anything. It was my house after all and I had the deed to prove it. I went to bed still angry from the whole ordeal.
In the morning I awoke with scratch marks all over my body. It looked as if I had been in a fight with a cat. I, of course, was quick to blame Winona for these marks, but this was unlike her. Guilt rushed over me for thinking such a terrible thing, and yet, I knew I upset her greatly last night and anything was possible with her anger.
Shaking my head of such unchristian thoughts, I headed for the kitchen to make some pancakes. Upon entering the kitchen I saw broken dishes on the floor. Draws pulled and its contents dumped and the fridge left opened. I couldn’t believe my eyes. How could she do such a thing! I knew that was it.
Winona had to go, but how? I had pleaded with her and that was to no avail. I tried to banish her but she always seemed to find a way back in. I even got the parish priest involved, hoping she’d listen to a man of the cloth. Nothing seemed to work.
Calmness then washed over me. It really was simple, so simple that I started to smile. Brady, my husband was puzzled when he saw my strange look. He knew that Winona was getting to me but even he knew this look was not character- like for me. The grin started to gleam from ear to ear as I said, “That damn Sioux Indian Winona can’t haunt a house that isn’t here. I’m setting it on fire.”
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