Chapter One, Episode 101 - Moonlit Sadness - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

Not one of my preferred episodes, this is a writing exercise within a writing exercise. Originally written for July's writer's group, in my review I found and added the oft needed script to support dialogue, to maintain a shift in the actions between different speakers and, in general providing more detail to set the scenes. Each of these issues were addressed, hopefully, with at least a modicum of success.

Moonlit Sadness

**In the house there was a clock ticking that only the residents could hear. Overnight at her sister’s estate, Dez rolled herself into her blankets but couldn’t sleep. ‘Tick. Tick. Tick’. From the back of her head, she yanked her pillow around her ears. ‘Tick. Tick. Tick’ She threw the pillow on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. “Emmie. Are you asleep?” She didn’t really think her sister could hear her. Emmie’s room was too far down the hall and her door was closed. 

Dez was about to lay back down when she saw the door handle slowly edge down. She grip tightened on the edge of the bed. The door creaked open. “Dez? Are you asleep?” Gruffly Dez replied “No. Come in.” Emmie looked annoyed and Dez was certain she knew the cause. Closing the door firmly behind her, she sighed. It seemed that that ticking only got louder. Distancing herself from the door, she flopped down on the bed to sit beside her sister. “I really do love that old clock, but tonight it seems louder.” Leaning back on her elbows, she stared up at the ceiling. “Dez, let's go down to the kitchen. At least we don't hear the clock down there.” Emmie sat up, pushed a stray lock from her face and stood up. Before leaving her own room, she had made an attempt to look perfect, as she always did, but her pony tail was askew and of course, she had no makeup on. “Come on, Dez. Let's go.” and she headed to the bedroom door. Dez reluctantly and stiffly stood up.

“Well, maybe some hot milk would be good.” A little off balance Dez just about fell back onto the bed. Righting herself, she began to walk toward her sister. “Emmie, did you turn a living room lamp on? It's awfully bright out there.”

Emmie shook her head. “It’s the moon. It’s full tonight and lighting up everything. Is that clock getting louder?” Tick. Tick. Tick. “No, maybe not. It’s just me wanting to go back to bed. Everything seems……just not right.” The sisters began to walk toward the stairs, the broad moon rays lighting their path. “Dez, didn’t you close those curtains before we went to our beds? You did, I remember now.”

Dez thought for a moment. “Yes. I did. I struggled with the panel on the left tonight. Like it didn’t want to close.” She walked to the window, reaching up to close them again. Her hand in mid air, she froze. In a whispered, quavery voice she called “Emmie, come here.” Emmie, concerned, went to her sister right away. Dez didn’t frighten easily. “What is it Dez? You sound frightened.” When she got to the window and looked outside, she saw a very different girl on the swing. The same blonde ringlets and blue ribbon. The same blue dress with a white apron, The same white stockings and black Mary Jane shoes. But her face. Her face was stretched and distorted. The front yard of the estate was bathed in moon light, throwing long shadows of the ancient redwood across the lawn and toward the house. A late night breeze ruffled the old tree's leafy branches, moving the shadows in an eerie dance. Creak creak... Creak creak... Creak creak scratched an underline to the breeze that stirred the leaves. A distant crow rasped it’s caw.

Emmie gasped. “Oh my, it is Sarah…..but something's wrong. ” Emmie breathed out in a whisper. In the darkness of the ancient redwood, Sarah swung eerily in and out of the shadows.

“I am so frightened, Emmie. You like this little ghost. Why so you think something’s not right?” Dez let the folds of the drapes slide away from her hand. “She seems so very sad tonight, Dez. Someone...or something…. about this house or the people of the Estate is changing. Sarah has never liked change.”  Just as Emmie's words died away, Sarah's long and drawn out cry of sadness echoed across the lawn was .

“Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you.”

~ John Green, The Fault in our Stars

**Authors note (July 3, 2020)

Our Writer's Group met in a wonderful sunroom over looking the city and ocean, well distanced apart and with hand sanitizer at the ready. Moonlit Sadness is not only for this blog post, but was written for my Writer’s Group this afternoon. Our chosen assignment was to begin with, or use, the line ‘In the house there was a clock ticking that only the residents could hear.’ While three of  our little group used residential facilities for their settings, I utilized it for the opening line of this episode for Situationally Theirs, one a nonsense piece based on famous movie ghosts and another based on the old children's song My Grandfather's Clock (circa 1876). We all burst into the familiar old song accompanied by an internet songster.