Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24982950-20150101222619

My dad tells the story of the scariest thing to ever happen to him more than any other. It doesn’t seem to have traumatised him in anyway, but after tellings he can get a bit distant. I grew up with the story, so I’ve come to accept it as mostly fact. It even gave me nightmares when I was younger. I’m seventeen now and I have a relationship with a beautiful girl who I’ve been friends with for years. It was when I took her to meet my family I knew I might as well let my dad tell the story then and get it done with. After initial pleasantries, my mother said she had to go out with a friend and left me, my girlfriend and my dad sat around on the sofas in the living room. My dad perked up as the front door shut (his wife has heard the story even more than me and, as you can imagine, has tired of it) and turned to me and my girlfriend with a smile on his face. “This is it.” I whispered to my girlfriend who was sat next to me. “Let me tell you a story to chill the bones, about a thing that happened to me many years ago.” My dad began, “It’s somewhat of a scary story so you might want to grab hold of something.” My girlfriend wrapped her arms around me. I smiled and we snuggled closer. I nodded at my dad who nodded back and continued: “It was one night when I was wandering in the woods near some suburbs I used to live in. I’d had one drink, but no more.” “When my dad says that,” I told my girlfriend, “He means he only used one glass.” “No, I picked up that technique after I met your mother.” My dad retorted. “That’s the story you tell the third most frequently.” I told him. “What’s the second?” my girlfriend asked. “The seventy-two hours before, during and after their wedding day.” I answered. “If you’re quite done?” my dad asked patiently. We nodded and my dad started telling his tale again. “Now, I was rambling, enjoying the bright moonlight, gazing up at the stars. I was not aware, however, of a presence so near to me, watching my every move.” My dad stiffened, looking a little edgy, “People talk about how they feel like they’re being watched when they’re not and find it scary. Even more terrifying is being watched but being completely oblivious to it.” My girlfriend tightened her grip a little. “Terror made me fall to my knees,” my dad went on, “as something rushed me from the trees. It took me to an unholy place, and by the light of the fire there revealed what I thought were the walking corpses of men prancing about. And then they summoned me over to join in with them, to the dance of the dead. Into the circle of fire, I followed them, into the middle I was led. I felt as time had stopped still; I was numb with fear. And yet, I wanted to go. And the blaze of the fire did not hurt me, as I walked onto the coals. However,” my dad chirped, breaking the spell he had created, “I did feel it the next morning, and look:” he then (against my protests) took his sock from his foot and showed us his sole. It had a number of faded burns on it, and did very much look like what you would get from walking on red hot coal. “Where was I,” pondered my dad, slipping the sock back on, “Oh yes, I felt that I was in a trance, and my spirit was lifted from me. I always wonder what might have been if only someone had the chance to witness what happened to me.” My dad’s eyes grew distant, as if he really were in a trance. “Then I danced, and I pranced and I sang with them. They all had death in their eyes. Lifeless figures. I could tell that they were undead, all of them. It’s always been my belief that they had ascended from Hell.” My girlfriend shivered. I pulled her a little closer as we listened, transfixed, to the uncharacteristically withdrawn voice of my father as he continued to recite his past. “As I danced with the dead my free spirit was laughing, and howling down at me and below my undead body, just danced in the circle of dead. That was until the time came to reunite us both-my soul and my body- my spirit came back down to me. I carried on but did not if I was alive or dead as the others all joined in with me. By luck then some sort of a skirmish started that took the attention away from me. When they took their gaze from me was the moment that I finally fled. Through those trees I ran like hell faster than the wind, but behind me I did not even glance; I looked just straight ahead. I managed to make it home where, exhausted, I fell in to bed. That night, however, in my dreams I went dancing again with the dead. Fortunately that is the only time that has happened. In the morning I called my friend and told him what I had seen. He simply laughed at my story as he does to this day.” The momentum in my dad’s voice wound down as his tone grew sombre, “When my time finally does come around, I know I’ll be prepared. I’ll say my last goodbyes to everyone and say a prayer for it.” My dad stopped talking, my girlfriend propped herself up on me and asked: “Has anything else like that ever happened to you again?” she had genuine concern in her voice which showed the compassion that I love about her. “Luckily, no,” my dad replied, “but unluckily for me to this day I guess I never know, just why they let me go, I’m sure they could have caught me if they wished. But I’ll never go dancing no more, till I dance with the Dead.” He was still for a few moments, then shook himself from his stupor, got to is feet and exclaimed “Now that’s all finished allow me to make my son and his, if I may say so gorgeous Lady-friend some dinner.” We thanked him and off he went into the kitchen. “He seems unaffected by that ordeal.” My girlfriend said. “Yeah, he doesn’t seem traumatised at all, apart from when he tells the story or when he’s at a rave.” I replied, she snorted at my half-joke, “But I’ve personally never doubted it happened because you can usually tell when he makes something up. It has taught me to be wary about things regarding the supernatural, however.” “Yes, if something like that happened to me I’d…” She was lost for words. Then she said looking directly into my eyes “Let’s promise not to let anything like that happen to either of us.” She seemed sincere and concerned so I promised her. We sealed it with a kiss. 