Anushka Shah: Whispers

Wednesday 18 March 2015
reading time: min, words
There's about a week left to enter the Young Creative Awards. Check out this young lady's winning, chilling tale from last year
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Even with the pillow held tightly over her wild mess of curly brown hair, Louisa could still hear the whispers. Her tired mind was reliving random memories, when all that Louisa wanted to do was fall asleep. Leave me, she begged silently.

Very well, Lou. The morning is waiting. Goodnight.

Louisa sat bolt upright in the unfamiliar bed. She had heard something, she was sure of it. Fear overwhelmed her as she cautiously felt for the bedside lamp in the darkness and switched it on. The dormitory was filled with a soft light and Louisa’s heart gradually stopped pounding crazily as she saw there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Five girls were sleeping soundly in the other bunk beds and the blinds were pulled over the large window. The door was slightly open, allowing a trickle of light from the corridor to seep through. A mirror on the wall reflected her pale face and wide brown eyes and she saw that her hair was straggly, falling into her eyes, and automatically reached to tuck it behind her ear. As she did so, she realized that her hair was tied back into a ponytail and in the mirror she was not raising her hand. Louisa gasped in shock, her hand falling limply to her side, yet her reflection in the mirror did not change. When her reflection tilted its head and raised a questioning eyebrow, Louisa screamed in pure terror. She carried on screaming and screaming, louder and louder, her voice trembling.

The other girls were scrambling out of bed, bewildered and sleepy. There was the sound of hurried footsteps and suddenly the door was pushed open and the main light switch was flicked on. The light streamed into to the room, and Louisa shielded her eyes. The girls in her dormitory were clustering around Louisa’s bunk. One girl, Lilly, was crying and the others were almost on the verge of tears themselves.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Matron, rushing to Louisa’s side.
“I-I-I saw myself in the mirror!” stammered Louisa, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“My reflection wasn’t doing what I was doing!”
“Dearie, you’re making no sense. Are you hurt?” asked Matron anxiously.
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, what was all that racket about then?” questioned Matron, her voice slightly scolding.

Louisa saw all the other girls watching her worriedly. She risked a peek at the mirror - everything seemed to be back to normal. She raised her hand and watched as her reflection simultaneously did the same thing. Louisa breathed a soft sigh of relief, and her forehead smoothened out, making her look more like her ordinary thirteen year old self.

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Young Creative Awards 2015

“Hmm?” prompted Matron. She turned to face the other girls irritably.
“I do hope you weren’t being nasty to Louisa. You mustn’t forget that she is new and she has had to join in the middle of term. What’s worse is that today is her first day, she has had to come on our residential trip to Nottingham without ever having met any of you before or even having seen our school. She is being very brave, considering that-“

“Excuse me Matron,” interrupted Louisa in a small voice. “It’s awfully kind of you but the girls are being very nice to me. They haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Why were you screaming then? Did you have a nightmare?” said Matron, annoyed that Louisa was ruining her beauty sleep for no apparent reason. She sighed and looked pointedly at the clock hanging on the wall.
“Yes, I think so. I had a bad dream - that’s all. I’m fine now,” said Louisa, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else.

“Hmm. I hope you aren’t going to make a habit of this, Louisa, or we might have to all wear earplugs,” said Matron, half-heartedly attempting to lighten the atmosphere.
“Settle down girls, the show’s over.” Matron smiled, before turning the lights out and closing the door.
“Sleep well!” she called, before turning on her heel and briskly walking back down the corridor to her own room.

The other girls were groaning and muttering to each other now that the drama was over. They clambered back into bed, aware that it was around three o’clock in the morning, and no doubt they would need every bit of sleep they could get to survive the action-packed week. One of the girls, Heather, who was sleeping on the bunk above Louisa, clambered down the ladder. She was small and lithe and, at ten years old, she was the youngest in the dormitory. She sat next to Louisa on the bunk in companionable silence for a while.

“Sorry about, you know, waking everyone up and everything,” mumbled Louisa eventually, the colour rising to her cheeks. What must all the other girls think of her, waking them up on her first day? Louisa felt tears prickling her eyes, and realised all she wanted to do was go home and never come back.

Heather gave Louisa a quick hug, whispering shyly, “Don’t worry, Louisa. I’ll be your friend. I used to have nightmares but I don’t anymore. All you have to do is think happy thoughts.” She climbed up to her own bunk, and fell asleep as soon as her little fair head touched the pillow.

Louisa was deeply touched by the little girl’s sweet and caring nature. She eventually fell asleep with Heather’s innocent advice echoing around her head.

Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts.

Louisa awoke to feel a small hand shaking her shoulder lightly. Bleary-eyed, Louisa saw the other girls getting changed and chatting merrily, almost as if they had forgotten the shame of last night.

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Enter caption here“Morning Louisa!” said Heather, already up and dressed in a pink Minnie Mouse t-shirt and grey jeans.
“Morning,” replied Louisa, stifling a yawn. Another girl, Taylor, smiled at Louisa and came over to her bunk bed, brushing out her beautiful long dark hair. Taylor’s best friend, Georgia, followed her.
“Are you alright now?” Taylor asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Yes thanks. I’m really sorry to have woken you up,” said Louisa guiltily. Why were all the girls being so nice to her? She didn’t deserve their kindness.
“No – it’s fine, honestly. You couldn’t help having a nightmare. We all have them,” said Georgia earnestly, then took her clothes into the bathroom, from which Lilly had just emerged.

“Hi,” she said shyly to Louisa. Lilly was Heather’s close friend, and they were both very similar. They were the two shyest people in the dormitory, but they both shared a passion for animals. Taylor and Georgia were firm friends who were more into dancing and sports, leaving one other person out. Goldie Sweet. Sweet by name, bitter by nature.

Goldie stood in front of the mirror, vainly admiring her looks. Her perfectly straight blonde hair fell to her hips like a curtain. She was wearing a beautiful dress that screamed Prada. It was meant to be a short dress, but as Goldie was small and petite it came below her knees. In an attempt to make herself look taller, she was wearing glittery red stilettos that had heels at least ten centimetres high.

“Hey, Dorothy,” smirked Taylor. Goldie fixed her startlingly clear blue eyes on Taylor angrily.
“What did you say?” she said menacingly.
“What, are you deaf?” retorted Taylor. Goldie narrowed her eyes and walked unsteadily over to Taylor. Even with her ridiculous heels, she was not anywhere near as tall as her. Suddenly, Goldie tripped, and would have been sent sprawling onto the hard wooden floorboards if Louisa had not shot out her arm and grabbed her.

“Careful!” Louisa gasped, helping Goldie catch her balance. Goldie snatched her hand away from Louisa and glared at her, before kicking off her stilettoes angrily so one hit Louisa’s leg and the other hurt Taylor’s ankle.
Georgia whistled through her teeth. “Keep clear of her, Louisa. She’ll sulk for at least a week now.”
“I don’t get it,” said Louisa, puzzled. “What did I even do?”
“It’s not your fault. Goldie throws tantrums all the time,” Taylor said with a grin, watching as Goldie huffed in the corner.

Lilly came out of the bathroom just in time to hear Taylor’s last remark, and Louisa realised that she was the only one who wasn’t dressed. She rushed into the bathroom and locked the door, quickly pulling on her skinny blue jeans and a t-shirt. As she was feeling slightly chilly, she put on a warm pink fleece. It was so cold in Nottingham!

Louisa quickly brushed her hair and pulled it back into a high ponytail. Louisa looked at herself in the mirror. Not bad, she thought. She noticed she had got a smudge of dirt on her cheek and bent over the sink to wash her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that her reflection had not moved. Louisa straightened up in shock. The reflection moved of its own accord to rub the dirt off its face.

Good Morning, Lou.

Louisa almost jumped out of her skin. She dashed to the door, unlocked it and entered the dormitory, her heart pounding. She forced herself to remain calm and sat on her bunk.

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Think happy thoughts.

“You alright, Louisa?” asked Heather. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m ok, thanks. I was just feeling a bit homesick, but I’m honestly fine now,” said Louisa, wondering how she had become such a good liar.
“Good, because it’s breakfast time!” smiled Heather.

***

“This can barely be called a factory,” snorted Taylor. “It doesn’t even have any machines, it’s just a crumbling room.” The tour guide frowned at her in mock disapproval.
“And that’s where you are wrong, young lady,” he said, pretending to be angry. “This is an old factory built during the industrial revolution. Once, this very room was crowded with dangerous machines, but for health and safety reasons, we have moved them. Count yourself lucky - children just as old as you used to work here. Most of them lost parts of their fingers, several were severely deformed and some even lost entire arms.” Taylor whistled softly.

“Pretty harsh conditions, huh?” she remarked, impressed. “So what exactly did they make here?”
The tour guide smiled; this was a topic he was fond of.
“Nottingham is particularly famous for its old lace factories and lace market. Children here used to work in terrible conditions.”

Louisa shivered. She felt a growing sense of unease as she glanced down the monotonous grey corridors. They stared bleakly back at her, and she gulped. There were initials and dates scraped onto the uneven brick walls. Lou was here, one message read. Louisa gasped softly. It’s a coincidence, she told herself firmly. Nothing more.

The tour guide led them to another small room containing several pieces of lace and information boards. Louisa couldn’t shake off an eerie sense of déjà vu. She felt herself going weak at the knees and for one dreadful moment she thought she was going to faint. Louisa spied a slightly open window in the corner and drifted towards it gratefully. She looked outside, but she only saw herself reflected in the dirty glass.

You’re back.

Her reflection smiled. Louisa felt her eyes widen in shock. She was frozen to the spot, terrified. Something about this place was really creepy.

Aren’t you going to say hello?

The voice was disjointed and echoed around the small room. Why couldn’t anybody else hear it? Was she going crazy? Louisa found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the window as her reflection cocked its head and looked right at her with piercing eyes that seemed to be staring into her very soul. The spell was held for one long and unnerving moment, until it was suddenly shattered and the reflection returned to its normal state.

“Earth to Louisa!” grinned Heather. “Come on, we’re going to the souvenir shop.”
Heather linked arms with Louisa and dragged her away from the window.

“What were you staring at? There’s only a brick wall there,” Heather said curiously. Louisa forced herself to breathe, and felt her heartbeat gradually slowing down. She gave Heather a weak smile then shrugged. Heather frowned, puzzled, but then her forehead smoothened as she ran off to help Lilly choose a vintage charm for her bracelet.

What is wrong with me? Louisa wondered, chilled to the bone.

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“Oh Louisa, I really like your nightdress!” gushed Heather, as she clambered onto the bunk bed.
“Thanks, but I don’t really like it,” admitted Louisa. “It looks really Victorian.” She looked critically at her white cotton nightdress which was hand stitched with intricate little flowers.
“Yeah, it makes your ugly face look even uglier,” sneered Goldie.
“Ignore her, Louisa. It’s been a long day, huh?” remarked Taylor, stifling a yawn. “I’m going to go to sleep now. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” the other girls chorused. Lilly reached up and flicked off the lights, and presently all the girls were sound asleep except for Louisa.

Louisa simply couldn’t settle down. She kept wondering about the strange voice she kept hearing and the odd things that seemed to be happening to her reflection. Don’t think about that now, she told herself sternly. You’ll only creep yourself out.

There was a sudden growl, and Louisa almost jumped out of her skin. The growl came again, louder this time, and it lasted for longer before subsiding. Louisa clutched the bedframe in terror before suddenly giggling. It was Goldie - snoring! Louisa bit the side of her hand to stop peals of laughter from erupting inside her, her body shaking with the effort. Little Goldie snored in the most unfeminine way!

Louisa rummaged around in her bedside drawer to find her camera, specially bought for the school trip. She fiddled about a bit before managing to change the settings to video and film Goldie snoring. You couldn’t see her face, it was too dark, but the long blonde hair that was fanned out on the pillow made her unmistakable. Wouldn’t it be funny to show the girls when they woke up? Too tired to return it to the drawer, she placed the camera firmly under the pillow. Louisa slept peacefully, a smile playing on her lips.

Louisa stretched and forced open her heavy eyelids. It was still quite dark, and she wasn’t sure what had woken her. Instantly, she remembered filming Goldie snoring last night. Louisa couldn’t help giggling, before she hurriedly bit the inside of her lip. It was too early to wake the other girls. She lifted up her pillow to find the camera, but all she could feel was the scratchy mattress cover.

Louisa felt around the limp pillow in puzzlement. She realised that the duvet wasn’t covering her. She must have kicked it off the bed in her sleep, she thought, and didn’t even bother to check if it was lying on the floor beside the bunk. She wondered if the camera had somehow fitted itself inside the pillow, and she fluffed it up. It looked all ragged, but that must have been a trick of the light.

Oh well, I’ll look for it it later on when it’s brighter, she thought, and closed her heavy eyelids again. She rolled over contentedly. BANG! Louisa lay on the floor, winded and shocked. Her spine was frozen rigid and she hurt all over. The floor was cold and very, very hard.

Louisa’s eyes flew open, and she gasped in astonishment. There were no bunk beds, she had just been lying on a tatty old mattress. There were no bedside drawers either, and none of the girls had duvets. Where was she? Louisa sighed with relief as she saw long blonde hair fanned over a grubby pillow. There’s Goldie, she thought. The girl stretched and opened her eyes to see Louisa staring at her.

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“Oh, hey, Lou,” she said, turning to face Louisa. Louisa blinked. That wasn’t Goldie! Why, she looked similar but her eyes were hazel and set wider apart, she was plumper and she had freckles all over her nose. But yet she somehow knew who Louisa was.

“Morning,” said Louisa, doubtfully. One by one, the rest of the girls were waking up. They were getting changed into matching grey tunics which looked like they had never seen the inside of a washing machine. Their nightdresses were similar to Louisa’s, white and Victorian-looking. Louisa noticed a tunic lying on the floor next to her mattress and pulled it on uncertainly. She ran a finger through her hair, it was matted and felt coarse. How strange, she washed it only yesterday.

Louisa saw a dirty sheet of metal nailed onto the wall where the nice, clean mirror used to hang. She walked over to it and examined her reflection.

Thanks, Lou. I’m having a great time. None of your friends suspect a thing.

Louisa shivered. She was imagining voices again, and she swore that she saw her reflection smile at her. She felt goose bumps appearing on her arms and she wondered what the voice meant. She had a disturbing feeling about all this.

Soon the other girls started filing out of the dormitory, and Louisa followed hesitantly. Walking outside on the roads, the stench from the open sewers made her gag and cover her nose with her hand. Louisa did a double take. Open sewers? How extraordinary! The street cobbles seemed more uneven than yesterday and the streetlamps were very old-fashioned. Louisa realised how dark it still was. She caught up with the girl in front of her and asked timidly, “Please, what time is it?”

The girl gave her an odd look. “Six, of course, Lou. I know you’re new but you should know that by now.”

“Of course. Sorry,” replied Louisa hastily. Six o’clock! Louisa had never been up this early in her entire life! Where on earth were the girls going?

For the first time, Louisa began to have second thoughts. What was she doing here? She didn’t even know who these people were and she had no clue where she was going. Louisa felt a panic attack coming on, her breathing was fast and her heart was pounding so hard that Louisa was sure it would break her ribcage. She dragged her feet along the ground, wanting to turn back but realising that she didn’t know the way. She would be safer to stick with these strange girls who all seemed to know her.

She brightened up when she saw they were all entering the old factory they had visited yesterday. This must be another group of girls coming on the same school trip, she assumed. She must have somehow got mixed up with them.

She had a huge shock when she went inside the factory. There were machines everywhere, and no sign of safety barriers. All Louisa could see was children, heaps and heaps of children working on the machines. They had dirty hair and clothes and were eating grey porridge with bits floating about in it. Louisa felt sick just looking at it.

Louisa closed her eyes, trying to block out everything except her thoughts. She felt dizzy and wanted to go home, or just see one face that she recognised in the crowd of children. But she searched in vain.

Louisa wandered around the factory, marvelling at the machinery but also feeling completely bewildered. How could everything have changed in only one day? And it looked like the children were working the machines, and surely that couldn’t be right. She bumped into a girl and Louisa recoiled when she saw that the girl was missing a finger. She remembered what the tour guide had told them yesterday:

“Once, this very room was crowded with dangerous machines. Children just as old as you used to work here. Most of them lost parts of their fingers.”

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A horrible possibility squirmed in Louisa’s head, and once it was in there, she couldn’t ignore it. With an ominous feeling gnawing in the pit of her stomach, Louisa approached a friendly looking girl.

“Um. What day is it, please?” asked Louisa. The girl glanced at her.
“Wednesday,” she answered shortly.
“No,” Louisa stammered. “The month and year, I meant.”
“Oh. March 1847,” said the girl, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Anyone would think you were from a different time period, judging by how shocked you look.”

Unwittingly, she had hit the nail on the head. Louisa felt her knees going wobbly, tears gathered in the corner of her eyes and threatened to spill over.

“Hey,” said the girl, alarmed. “I’m sorry. It was only a joke.”
Louisa shook her head, before sinking to the floor.
“No! Don’t sit there! Are you crazy? Mr Mills will see!” The girl hauled her up to her feet, and realising that she looked pale, dragged her over to the small window and pushed it slightly open. Louisa gratefully drank in the fresh air, glancing at her reflection as she did so.

Stay calm, Lou. You shall be home soon.

For the rest of the day, Louisa worked to control a machine which made the most beautiful lace. By evening, her fingers were sore and red and her eyes refused to stay open. Her head pounding, Louisa fell onto the mattress and sunk into a deep and uneasy sleep.

Louisa opened her eyes tentatively in the morning. The room appeared to be back to normal and she was lying on the bunk bed again. Her back felt stiff from bending over the machinery and her fingers ached but, apart from that, she didn’t seem to have fared badly from her ordeal. She rolled over, satisfied. She heard crinkling coming from under her pillow, and she lifted it up, puzzled. Her camera was there, but it felt like so long ago since Louisa had filmed Goldie snoring. Next to it was a note, written in posh curly writing:

Dearest Lou,

I simply had to find out what your world was like. For some reason, whenever I looked into the mirror I saw you. It must be to do with how we look identical and we are both called Louisa. We are the same age too, I think. We slept in the same place in the same room, only a few decades apart. It makes my head spin just to think about it, and I expect you feel the same too. I shall leave you in peace now, I have feasted my eyes enough on the beauty of your world and shall live the rest of my life in happiness knowing that however horrible life seems to be for me now, it will improve greatly. This is so odd, but I now feel like I know you so well, and I am still watching over you, even though I shall be dead by the time you will read this.

Yours truly, Lou.

Louisa put down the note, greatly shaken. Once, a girl had sat in her place, writing this letter for her, a girl who was not born until another hundred years later. Once, a girl had poured out all her thoughts onto this little piece of paper, and earnestly explained what seemed to be a horrific dream. Once, a girl had seen into the future, and now, a girl has taken her place and travelled into the past. All is set to rights now, one girl is dead, and one is still alive who shall hold the memories of that day firmly into her mind forever.

Louisa sat up, looked at herself in the mirror, and saw a trace of that ghostly smile for the last time.

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Anushka Shah's story Whispers won the Creative Writing category at the Young Creative Awards 2014. If you're aged 13 - 24 and love getting creative in Nottingham, get entering to be in for the chance of winning cash prizes as well as places on prestigious mentoring schemes.

There are just two weeks to get entering, so shake a leg young 'uns.

Young Creative Awards website

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