Buried

This is the story of Lucy James's ghost.

Stuck in a field close to her body's shallow grave, she grabs the attention of a passing motorist. Showing him where her body lay, she hopes will enable her to be laid to rest properly. Doing this should hopefully allow her to join her granddad.

To her utter dismay, after watching her body's burial, nothing happened. She didn't move on or anything, nor did her granddad turn up.

Seeking the guy from the field, she asks what could have gone wrong. He reveals, in order to move on successfully, she must first forgive the man that killed her. The best way to do this, he tells her, is to do so whilst he sleeps.


Because of his brutal, sexual acts, she is unwilling. She must though, if she wants to see her Grandad again.

Finding herself in the killer's bedroom, she finds she can see inside his dreams and discovers he is about to do it all again.

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Excerpt

It was night. The frozen field she hadn't been able to leave was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The amount of cars on the road had become scarce, so she'd given up her task for a while.

Instead she stood, looking down at the little black shoe under the hedgerow. It was a size six and a half, 'a big girl's shoe,' her mum had told her when they were in the shop.

Another car came zooming up the road, headlights full on. They blinked through the bare-bones of the bush. She waved even though she knew they wouldn't see her.

She walked the five steps to the opening in the hedge. As the car's lights left a white streak in front of her, she heard another one coming in the other direction. She stood waiting for it to arrive over the crest of the hill.

With its lights dipped, she could see the man inside. She waved. He had a white light running around his head and shoulders, the white of angels. She'd seen a few like that but none of them had stopped. He looked her way and with the expression he wore, she knew he could see her.

He drove on a little but was slowing and came to a stop on the opposite side of the road.

His car door opened and once stood, she saw the light traced his whole body. It was like someone invisible was standing behind him with a powerful torch, shining it right at him.

As he walked across the road, his eyes met hers. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. The burning inside her belly was rising, this was bad. She backed away, following the line of the skeletal hedge.

Clouds left his mouth as he breathed. You just have to show. That would be enough. So she stood beside the shoe, waiting and watching.

He walked through the gap in the hedge and turned towards her. Holding steady, she fought the urge to run away. This was important. He just had to see her body and everything would be alright.

He was a tall man, at least six foot or thereabouts. He had the dark skin of an African. He wore a beige woollen jumper and chequered white trousers.

She didn't leave tracks in the snow anymore, he did though and his heavy footfalls crunched through the crusted blanket.

'How can I help you?' he said in a placid, concerned tone.

She wanted to answer but was too afraid. Let him see, that’' all. She pointed. He looked.

He did see it, her fallen shoe and the shredded sock and part of her foot the fox had decided not to eat. He leaned in for a closer inspection. She couldn't stay here. The rest of her body lay further down the hill under the hedge.

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