The Blood Bottle

By Rhia Seepaul, age 13

It was a bleak, frosty night of December when it all started...

A wave of bitter sadness washed over me as I looked over to her grave, now covered in a soft blanket of snow. I try to hold back tears as I placed a single, solitary rose on the floor. Rose Evergreen, my darling daughter had died on her birthday. Today she would be 10 years old, today it was her birthday, her death day. Looking at her bleak grave, I thought about if things had gone differently if I had made it before the fire did.

My hand slowly traced its way to her headstone, wiping the frosty, cold snow from it, the savage cold took my breath away. What was that? There seemed to be a bump in the smooth surface. Puzzled, I quickly unearthed it from the snow to reveal a smooth glass bottle I look closer to the bottle to see the beautiful red decorations; I smile to myself this is something she would have liked. Looking at it, I don’t know why, I had never seen the bottle before, but it felt familiar to me. Surely, I had seen this before? No, that was stupid I thought, carelessly tossing it to the snow-covered ground. Sighing, I looked at my wristwatch, it was getting late. I turned back to walk towards the gate searching for the rough stone path which had now been covered by a thick cloak of white. As I reached the gate, I swivelled around to look at her grave, surrounded by dark barren land, one last time.

As I glanced towards the stone grave now covered in snow. Suddenly, a ghostly silver light illuminated the grave, the glass bottle sitting there. I was sure I had thrown the jar on the ground, why was it there and on my daughter's deathbed of all places? My fists clenched I slowly walked towards it, perhaps I was just hallucinating? Approaching the grave, I reached out and gingerly touched the bottle, all my memories of my precious Rose and I came rushing towards me like a flowing river, things which I had forgotten all came back to me. Why? How did this... bottle know all about me and my daughter? I certainly didn’t have any recollections of it. Reeling in shock, I scrambled to my feet turning to run but my legs numb I couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried, numb and paralysed by fear. With all my strength somehow, I ran towards the cemetery entrance, now seemingly locked for good. Pounding on the rigid iron gate, I tried to scream but my throat was so dry, gulping for air. I couldn’t even let out a single cry of help, as the panic bubbled in me. My forehead was now soaked in sticky sweat. Craning my head around, I spotted it. The bottle seemed to be melting? No, it was beginning to ooze into something. A deep crimson red. A blood red. I try to remain calm but still paralysed with fear, I soon realised the red seemed to be forming a dark figure. Focusing on it, the red was turning into human flesh. My face screwed up in horror as the shape turned into someone I knew. Someone I loved.

Mist clearing, a horrible silence as thick as fog. My Rose was there in the flesh standing there. ‘’Rose...’’ I whispered my voice inaudible. She was there but how? She was wearing the clothes I bought for her on her last birthday, a cherry patterned dress with a red ribbon and ebony shoes. Stumbling in confusion, I crept towards her, taking it all in everything was the same except for her facial expressions, she no longer bore the sweet, kind face I once knew now; it was replaced with a tormented, miserable face. Still unsure, I hesitantly brushed my fingers against her face to make sure she was real and not a figment of my imagination.

Upon realising it was her, I pulled Rose in hugging her tight, not letting her go. ‘’Rose how? I thought you were dead! How are you alive?’ I asked, my face filled with salty tears. ‘’Dad...’’ those were only words my Rose could manage to muster out of her mouth, but I didn't care, as long as she was alive that was all that mattered to me.

I poured out two cups, one filled with tea the other with hot chocolate. ‘Be careful it’s hot’ I said as I handed the mug to Rose. Blowing on it, I took a sip of my tea which I had decided to add two tea bags to because after all that had happened, I needed something strong. ‘‘Well?’’ I asked, waiting for an answer. After staring into her drink for a long time, she placed the drink on the table and answered, ‘’ I don’t know what's going on... Dad, all I remember is flames engulfing the house then fainting, the sound of an ambulance and a voice telling me it’s going to be all right, then there's darkness it goes all fuzzy after that, the thing is I don’t remember you I don’t know who you are but every time I look at you I feel like I know you but I don’t how though’’ after a short silence she says her voice breaking‘’ It’s clear that your obviously close to me but I don’t how... so if you could help my regain my memories again that would be amazing- ‘’she shows a sad smile,’’ please. I'm scared I have no idea of what's going I don’t even know who I am’.

I sat there confused and tormented, going over what I had just been told instead of comforting the poor girl. According to her, when she died her soul went back to the jar, so when I threw the jar on the ground, I had opened the lid to let her out. Looking at my watch I saw it was 19:00, it was getting late, and this version of Rose had nowhere else to stay and it would be dangerous to send her out in the freezing cold, savage night. Sighing, I said ‘it’s getting late so you should stay here for the night you don’t have anywhere else to stay do you’. ‘Follow me’ I say to break the bitter silence. I go up the stairs down the hall, turn left and stop suddenly, I never thought I’d have someone ever go in this room again after what happened. I stare into her room, which I decorated so carefully for her. When there was the fire, yes, the entire house got burnt down to a crisp so when I brought a new house, I devoted myself to making this one room, perfect to Rose, as If I was waiting for her, and knew she would one day return from death.

I cast a look over to Rose who was staring in the room in disgust ‘Well, what do you think?’ I was sure she would love the pink, perfectly decorated room, why was Rose repulsed by the room, what was wrong with her? An ominous feeling washed through me, sending shivers down my spine.

As I slowly walked towards my room in the hallway, with a foreboding, that danger lay ahead. I noticed there was this feeling I couldn’t quite shake off, I don’t know why but I had Rose back, I should be happy shouldn’t I? Except this wasn’t Rose, it was just a stranger in her body, who was nothing like her. No, it was Rose, she had just lost her memories, right? Then why did she call me Dad back in the graveyard when she said she didn’t remember me or anything what was she plotting exactly and why did she lie? That night, I lay in my bed, tired from the events that happened. The realisation that there was darkness that hid within this Rose, engulfed me.

When I awoke, I found the sun shining in my bedroom window telling me to get up. As I entered the kitchen, I spotted Rose ‘you're up early’ I remark I notice she is wearing a favourite dusky pink dress withs a flowery pattern, with she put auburn hair down, around her shoulders. ‘I need to talk to you about the memories, I don’t think I need them. I know my name Rose Evergreen and that’s all I need really, so thank you for letting me stay I just need to take care of... something’ she says smiling menacingly. ‘Right.’ I say a shiver down my spine. A sense of doubt enters my mind. Why do I not like this... ‘well I think you should just stay here for a bit longer; I also need to take care of something so, I think you should stay here until I come back’ I said, making sure to let her know the conversation had ended. I pry a look at Rose to see her looking slightly crestfallen.

‘Whatever you do don’t leave the house’ I shout to Rose, making sure she heard. I don’t why, but my suspicions from yesterday have come back (so I decided to make sure Rose stayed inside the house so she wouldn’t do any harm), I also decided to keep her inside until I knew I understood what she was.

After a 30-minute drive I finally arrived at my destination. I wondered if Emma would remember me after all these years. And if she did, would she believe me, Emma, my childhood friend. A sad sigh left my body as I rapped on the imposing lion shaped doorknob. I look around admiring her house, she owned a grand four Storey house, all with fully furshined rooms. Four minutes passed; I turned back to my car as a voice answered ‘you.’ I turned around in surprise as my eyes met her gaze. If anyone could help if most was her. I stretch my face into a smile only to see it not returned. Instead, I receive a hard blow to my skull, hitting the cold hard floor with a thud.

‘Ow...’ I say as I find myself lying on a brown leather couch. ‘What happened?’ my mind still cloudy from the punch. I find an Ice pack thrust at my face landing on my forehead. I looked up to see an angry Emma staring back at me. I gulp as she twists a tea towel tightly, her expression tells me she wants to do the same thing with my neck.

‘Why are you here?’

‘She is back, Rose believe me please, I it sounds like I made it up, but I didn’t, ok? She came back from the dead and she has lost her memories, she isn’t the same though she is different’ I whispered.

I then tell her everything all spilling out at once. If it was someone else, I would never have told them about it, but this is Emma, my old friend.

‘So, you're telling me that your daughter is back from the dead she has lost her memories and she has some kind murderous intent’

‘I do believe you though you sound ridiculous’ she then motions me to follow her to the library. She walks to a particularly dusty corner of the room and grabs a book. She looks to a certain page and gives the book to me.’ Read’ the only thing she says. I scan the book only to find a repulsive discovery. The only reason Rose is back because of revenge I look down my palms cold and clammy, heart racing clouding with fear. I stare back at the book reading more. She isn’t Rose at all, some evil being has taken control of her body, and is planning to kill the people she loves. The only way to stop this is to trap her in the jar. The jar she came out of.

My face deathly pale, I turned to Emma who looked as terrified as me.

‘I can’t believe it. This must be wrong, right?’

‘I have a question, where is Rose?’ Emma asks her knees shaking, trying to remain calm. ‘At home’

‘So, you left a possessed child in your house who has evil intentions?’

‘Well...’my voice dropped to an urgent whisper, only to be cut off by Emma.

‘don’t explain to me you need to go and trap her in the jar, don’t you’

‘Hold on, it says that the possessed person will always have the object’ I say.

After constructing a plan with Emma, I got to my car to drive home.

The plan was to act cool and make Rose think I didn’t know anything then; I would get the jar and trap her into it. As I was about to leave the road, I had this... feeling of dread creeping into my body. I turned my car back round nearly crashing it, I had to go back to Emma, I drove as fast as I could to her house. Something was very wrong,

As I reached her house, I stopped my car the tyres screeching with a halt. I thrust open the door, running into the dark desolate hallway, only to find her lying on the ground now a lifeless corpse. ’Emma...’ I whisper tears flowing from my eyes, pain ripping through my body. The air was filled with the stench of death, that tore through my body every nerve within me silently screamed. The blistering pain causing me to crumble into a heap, as my legs buckled beneath me.

If only I had arrived sooner Emma wouldn’t be dead. This is all my fault I think If I had never told her she wouldn’t be dead. I fight back tears as I held her limp, lifeless body, with eyes her rolled back.

I fell to the floor, realising who killed her. No, it can’t be.

‘So, you finally found out then, took you long enough’ a voice says, piercing the death filled air. Turning slowly, my breath heavy, to see Rose sitting In Emma's favourite chair a knife drenched in blood in her hand, I then see the wounds on her body, still fresh. ‘No!’ I shouted overwhelmed by emotion. ‘How sad, you still think your sweet Rose is still here, don’t you’ a menacing dark smile on her face, as if in a trance.

She licks the blood from the knife, her lips stained with the crimson liquid ‘I can’t have you knowing this can I, so you will have to die’ she says walking the knife ready to stab ‘don’t worry it will be quick’ ‘that is if you don’t struggle’. She threatingly watches me as I try to make my legs move, but they are stuck to the ground, frozen with fear, my heart pounding in my chest, the only thing I can do is stare as I watch her advance towards me. Her once beautiful dress is covered in crimson red splatters with tears on it, her blood shot eyes sore from a lack of sleep. This thing is not my daughter, it is a demonic monster. I will kill it even if it means never seeing her again. I shake as I realise I can’t kill her it is too late I can’t stop her. The misery and grief swallow me up like dark thunderous clouds, it’s better if I just die. However, there still was a little voice in my head telling me to fight. It's now or never.

The blood throbbing in my ears, I manage to make my legs move as I narrowly swerve the incoming jagged blade. I don’t remain completely unscathed my shoulder however is bleeding from the knife. From the corner of my eye, I see the jar rolling on the ground and running towards it. Her demon eyes widen in shock as she sees what I'm doing, she was indeed the angel of darkness. No!’ she shouts in frustration and desperately dives for the bottle I grab the bottle just in time, ‘now you don’t want to kill me. I'm your precious Rose right don’t put me back in the bottle I know you can’t’ she smiles, and I'm lost this is still Rose I can’t trap her forever. No snap out of it I tell myself ‘You are not Rose and will never be her.’ I say as I open the bottle ‘No! Don't you can’t’ she shouts in despair as she gets sucked into the bottle, letting out a final blood curdling piercing scream, as it pulls her in, she is powerless to fight the strength of the bottle, and its ability to pull her back in.

Holding the lid on, and shutting the bottle tightly, relief slowly crept through me, as I let out a quiet groan like a wounded animal, I fell to the ground exhausted, gasping for air as tears poured down my cheeks. It was over, she was gone.

The end