A Writer's Wonderland [PDF] - University of Portsmouth

That night I awoke to shuffling outside my window. I felt for the shape of my husband
but felt nothing. Anxious, I rushed out of bed and peered into Eoin’s cradle.
‘Eoin!’ I howled at the empty cot.
My heart grew frantic as my instincts took hold of me. I flew like a woman possessed
tearing apart the house searching for a sign. It was then that I heard a horrible bone-chilling
screeching. I rushed to the window and saw an orange glow flickering behind the barn.
Without thinking, I bolted.
Behind the barn my husband, my neighbours and the vile priest were crowded around
the bonfire. I pushed through the crowd and gasped.
‘Oh God, Eoin! What are you doing to my baby! Give me my baby you monsters! Give
him to me!’ I wailed, fighting against my neighbour’s hold.
Over the flames the priest stood, his face glowing with hellfire. Next to him my husband
was leaning over the inferno holding a crude shovel. On the blade of the blackened shovel lay a
small shape.
bastard!’
‘Oh my God!’ I screeched desperately. ‘You’re killing him! You’re burning our baby you
Ignoring my cries, my husband stood firmly over the fire despite sweat dribbling down
his face. Feeling the heat on my face, I knew it was the same heat that was killing my baby. His
charred body emitted an excruciating cry of agony that broke my heart. My eyes full of tears
couldn’t turn away from the sight of Eoin’s burnt skin.
Since then I could not feel. I felt nothing when I slipped silver between the shoulder
blades of the priest, when he dribbled blood. Nothing when I held the hands of my neighbour’s
children as they turned blue beneath the water. When I slipped a tonic of poison into my
husband’s ale, I did not feel anything as I watched him choke purple. I did not feel the licks of
the flames cloaking me in orange as my skin peeled and blackened like my Eoin’s.
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