“Why?! Why did this have to happen to ME?!” I cried as other members of the parenting group tried to comfort me, “I was the best mother I could be! Why did she have to go missing?”
The sounds of attempted comforting faded quickly. The silence made the aching in my heart all the worse.
“She went… missing?” A fellow mother finally asked me. Her voice was hushed, as if she was afraid that someone outside our small group was going to hear her. I nodded slightly, wiping the trails of mascara off my face. After looking around at the other members, who faces showed at array emotions from sorrow to anger to numb indifference, the fellow mother finally looked back at me.
“We’ve all had kids go missing. That’s one reason this group began. After the …show more content…
She 's a ghost, or monster, or SOMETHING. She lost her own child in a freak accident, so now, in death, she kidnaps children...and... a-and..." The quiet mother broke down in tears, sobbing too hard to continue speaking. Her husband, one of the only men here, did his best to console her. He picked up where she left off, even though it obviously pained him-
"She kills them."
“W-what? You’re telling ne Sara is going to...Dear God…” I couldn’t collect myself. Thoughts were crowding my mind, I couldn’t focus on one. Was my daughter dead? Was she gone forever? Was this just local folklore? I hadn’t lived in this area long, maybe a year, after an issue at our previous place. I hadn’t lived here long enough to know…
“Alright, enough ghost stories,” The consoler said, gathering her things, and standing, “Next meeting let’s focus on the topic you all came here for.”
With that the meeting ended. I’m not going to lie; I ended up sobbing in my car. I cried for so long. All the makeup I had put on flowed off my face like rivers. Finally I was able to gather myself enough to be able to drive, but I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t go back to that empty hell. I went to the local library. It was open late so the town’s college students could study for finals without the distraction of the dorms. I walked in and walked straight to the counter. The librarian seemed startled by my …show more content…
After a moment to process what I said the librarian nodded and after looking through her computer she handed me a series of call numbers, as well as a key to use the computers and to the microfiche room. I could tell by the look on her face she was judging me. If I hadn’t used all my energy crying I would have made a scene. I would have made her regret judging my parenting. But I couldn’t. I needed to use the last of the energy I had to find out about this ‘Madam Moira’.
I spent hours looking through books that hadn’t been touched in years. They smelt of mildew and ancient dust. Most of them were books on local folklore- as expected. One in particular caught my attention.
The one book in question told the full story of Madam Moira.
“Madam Moira (Born: was born somewhere in the mid 1800’s. It was believed she was born into a rich family of aristocratic entrepreneur. Her father made elixirs that claimed to cure anything. In reality they were mostly cheap alcohol mixed with coal from wood. Due to his charismatic nature and smooth talking he was able to make a fortune. Her mother was the daughter of railroad tycoon who inherited all the money and the
The sounds of attempted comforting faded quickly. The silence made the aching in my heart all the worse.
“She went… missing?” A fellow mother finally asked me. Her voice was hushed, as if she was afraid that someone outside our small group was going to hear her. I nodded slightly, wiping the trails of mascara off my face. After looking around at the other members, who faces showed at array emotions from sorrow to anger to numb indifference, the fellow mother finally looked back at me.
“We’ve all had kids go missing. That’s one reason this group began. After the …show more content…
She 's a ghost, or monster, or SOMETHING. She lost her own child in a freak accident, so now, in death, she kidnaps children...and... a-and..." The quiet mother broke down in tears, sobbing too hard to continue speaking. Her husband, one of the only men here, did his best to console her. He picked up where she left off, even though it obviously pained him-
"She kills them."
“W-what? You’re telling ne Sara is going to...Dear God…” I couldn’t collect myself. Thoughts were crowding my mind, I couldn’t focus on one. Was my daughter dead? Was she gone forever? Was this just local folklore? I hadn’t lived in this area long, maybe a year, after an issue at our previous place. I hadn’t lived here long enough to know…
“Alright, enough ghost stories,” The consoler said, gathering her things, and standing, “Next meeting let’s focus on the topic you all came here for.”
With that the meeting ended. I’m not going to lie; I ended up sobbing in my car. I cried for so long. All the makeup I had put on flowed off my face like rivers. Finally I was able to gather myself enough to be able to drive, but I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t go back to that empty hell. I went to the local library. It was open late so the town’s college students could study for finals without the distraction of the dorms. I walked in and walked straight to the counter. The librarian seemed startled by my …show more content…
After a moment to process what I said the librarian nodded and after looking through her computer she handed me a series of call numbers, as well as a key to use the computers and to the microfiche room. I could tell by the look on her face she was judging me. If I hadn’t used all my energy crying I would have made a scene. I would have made her regret judging my parenting. But I couldn’t. I needed to use the last of the energy I had to find out about this ‘Madam Moira’.
I spent hours looking through books that hadn’t been touched in years. They smelt of mildew and ancient dust. Most of them were books on local folklore- as expected. One in particular caught my attention.
The one book in question told the full story of Madam Moira.
“Madam Moira (Born: was born somewhere in the mid 1800’s. It was believed she was born into a rich family of aristocratic entrepreneur. Her father made elixirs that claimed to cure anything. In reality they were mostly cheap alcohol mixed with coal from wood. Due to his charismatic nature and smooth talking he was able to make a fortune. Her mother was the daughter of railroad tycoon who inherited all the money and the