Second Chance Wk 2
Jan. 8th, 2019 10:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dmousey"Whooo- eeeee!" hollered Duncan, running to swing from the rope suspended over a tree branch, at the local swimming hole. Timing perfect, he did a somersault and splashed into the stream, grinning as he surfaced. "Ah, the water's fine boys! C'mon in!! Or would you rather stand there, sweating and having your bollocks itch?" Duncan laughed, taunting his friends at the water's edge.
Brothers Andrew and George quickly shed their clothing, and, letting loose some whoops of their own, dropped like barrels into the water, aiming for their friend. The siblings were often in Duncan's entourage, following his harebrained ideas.
Andrew, being the levelheaded, more sensitive brother, did try playing at being their conscience, but his twin, George, naturally more adventurous and a much more willing second, had a bad habit of agreeing with Duncan. Andrew would then go along, trying to keep his brother out of trouble. Needless to say, his efforts were not appreciated.
Duncan had a talent for finding himself in the middle of whatever mischief a twelve year old could. Oh, he had a good and loving heart, but Duncan didn't spend much time thinking before doing. Things had a way of backfiring around Duncan, and consequences at times were dear; for instance, his mother taking and breaking his best slingshot for pinging her in the arse, not once, but several times while she was hanging the wash. Whittling a new one, however, came easy with the memory of his mam's indignant face.
The three boys, reclaiming their clothing from the stream banks, were skipping stones across the water, trying to out-scare each other with the latest gossip from town.
"Did you hear about the undertaker's men dropping Mrs. Annabelle Sharp's coffin? How when hitting the ground the coffin broke open, sending the body rolling across the ground!" George asked, his voice involuntarily quivering.
Duncan, picking up where George left off, continued. "I keep hearing talk of her hands being all crusty with blood from her fingernails having been half torn off? Or of how her eye's were bulging out, with her mouth frozen open, looking like she died still screaming, trying to get out." Duncan teasing his friends, winked. "Yeah, I did hear a little."
George, sounding a bit stronger, piped in once more. "Our Pap said whatever sickness struck her was so frightening, they went rushing her into the ground, and she weren't really dead the first time. She was in cat- cata- catalepsy? Or some sorta thing like that.
He told mam our family's going to be buried in those new-fangled coffins- the ones with bells on them? And that he'd suffer perdition before burying one of his, and leaving them to die cold and alone."
Andrew, shivering slightly and clearly upset by the tale, turned to his companions: "Can you imagine her horror, though?
"How sensing the darkness, she opened her eyes, to find it truly did blanket her. Her terror rising at smelling the fresh cut pine, and the feeling of roughness beneath her palms. All the while, overpowering everything, is the scent of the fresh turned earth."
Andrew, having caught their attention, went on: "Imagine beating, tearing, at that box, desperately trying to reach the surface, to breathe fresh air. Screaming until your lungs burst, and dying in agony and fear as you suffocate.
"If you listen closely, at night you can still hear her screaming and,..." Andrew, stepping back and curling his fingers into claws, ran them hard down his brother's and Duncan's backs, simultaneously growling, "...scratching, scratching, scratching!!"
Duncan's jumping a foot, and his brother's squawking, set the normally restrained Andrew howling with laughter!
Feeling quite proud of his accomplishment, Andrew knew he was going to have to endure some brotherly punches...
but every hit would be well worth it.
*** One of people's worst fears is of being buried alive, and this was วนot an uncommon occurrence in the late Victorian era. Cholera was rampant from unsanitary conditions, and often patients fell into a coma. The authorities, or families would hurry burial to prevent germs from spreading and their loved ones upon waking discovered themselves trapped.
To prevent a gruesome and cruel death, safety coffins were built and made affordable to the middle classes in the second half of the eighteenth century, and were still in use in 1995. The popular version of safety coffins contained cords attached to bells, so that a person who woke up in one, would be able to pull the cord and the bell's ringing would alert the outside world.
Thanks for reading! All concrit is welcome! And please pop in again!
Brothers Andrew and George quickly shed their clothing, and, letting loose some whoops of their own, dropped like barrels into the water, aiming for their friend. The siblings were often in Duncan's entourage, following his harebrained ideas.
Andrew, being the levelheaded, more sensitive brother, did try playing at being their conscience, but his twin, George, naturally more adventurous and a much more willing second, had a bad habit of agreeing with Duncan. Andrew would then go along, trying to keep his brother out of trouble. Needless to say, his efforts were not appreciated.
Duncan had a talent for finding himself in the middle of whatever mischief a twelve year old could. Oh, he had a good and loving heart, but Duncan didn't spend much time thinking before doing. Things had a way of backfiring around Duncan, and consequences at times were dear; for instance, his mother taking and breaking his best slingshot for pinging her in the arse, not once, but several times while she was hanging the wash. Whittling a new one, however, came easy with the memory of his mam's indignant face.
The three boys, reclaiming their clothing from the stream banks, were skipping stones across the water, trying to out-scare each other with the latest gossip from town.
"Did you hear about the undertaker's men dropping Mrs. Annabelle Sharp's coffin? How when hitting the ground the coffin broke open, sending the body rolling across the ground!" George asked, his voice involuntarily quivering.
Duncan, picking up where George left off, continued. "I keep hearing talk of her hands being all crusty with blood from her fingernails having been half torn off? Or of how her eye's were bulging out, with her mouth frozen open, looking like she died still screaming, trying to get out." Duncan teasing his friends, winked. "Yeah, I did hear a little."
George, sounding a bit stronger, piped in once more. "Our Pap said whatever sickness struck her was so frightening, they went rushing her into the ground, and she weren't really dead the first time. She was in cat- cata- catalepsy? Or some sorta thing like that.
He told mam our family's going to be buried in those new-fangled coffins- the ones with bells on them? And that he'd suffer perdition before burying one of his, and leaving them to die cold and alone."
Andrew, shivering slightly and clearly upset by the tale, turned to his companions: "Can you imagine her horror, though?
"How sensing the darkness, she opened her eyes, to find it truly did blanket her. Her terror rising at smelling the fresh cut pine, and the feeling of roughness beneath her palms. All the while, overpowering everything, is the scent of the fresh turned earth."
Andrew, having caught their attention, went on: "Imagine beating, tearing, at that box, desperately trying to reach the surface, to breathe fresh air. Screaming until your lungs burst, and dying in agony and fear as you suffocate.
"If you listen closely, at night you can still hear her screaming and,..." Andrew, stepping back and curling his fingers into claws, ran them hard down his brother's and Duncan's backs, simultaneously growling, "...scratching, scratching, scratching!!"
Duncan's jumping a foot, and his brother's squawking, set the normally restrained Andrew howling with laughter!
Feeling quite proud of his accomplishment, Andrew knew he was going to have to endure some brotherly punches...
but every hit would be well worth it.
*** One of people's worst fears is of being buried alive, and this was วนot an uncommon occurrence in the late Victorian era. Cholera was rampant from unsanitary conditions, and often patients fell into a coma. The authorities, or families would hurry burial to prevent germs from spreading and their loved ones upon waking discovered themselves trapped.
To prevent a gruesome and cruel death, safety coffins were built and made affordable to the middle classes in the second half of the eighteenth century, and were still in use in 1995. The popular version of safety coffins contained cords attached to bells, so that a person who woke up in one, would be able to pull the cord and the bell's ringing would alert the outside world.
Thanks for reading! All concrit is welcome! And please pop in again!
no subject
Date: 2019-01-12 02:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-12 11:57 pm (UTC)