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It was a dream come true, I got to go to France. I had it all arranged. I would stay in this nice little remodeled cottage for about a week. It was in the most beautiful countryside, about an hour away from the nearest city. All my friends thought it was a bad idea to stay that far from town so all refused to go with me. My boyfriend even said that it creeped him out, he didn’t think it could be romantic at all. I took advantage of that, no cell phone, no Internet, no real proper form of communication for about a week. A time for me to just relax and get some sun.
The cottage was everything I had dreamed. It had been newly remodeled and no one has stayed in it yet. The owner hadn’t exactly told me why, but it didn’t matter. The one large room there was had a king sized bed placed in the middle of the floor. Lighting the bed was a wall that was just window. The window faced the sunrise and had a door that led me to a patio with a chair, over looking the hillside and a single tree off to the side of the balcony. Walking out from the bedroom, led me to kitchen about twice the size I was use to at home. The kitchen was full of foods I was familiar with and some I wasn’t quiet, but that could be changed rather quickly. The front room had the chairs and sofa arranged so was looking out another window to the sunset at the corner of the room that could also been seen from the large dinning room table that had a vase of freshly cut flowers. This was my week to just relax, take my pictures, cook, eat, and enjoy my time alone. Well I thought I was alone.
When is one ever really alone? I discovered about the second night of my relaxing vacation that I was far from it. The first couple days went fantastic. I ate some amazing food, took some breath taking pictures and wrote what I saw in the hillside. The third night however was different than my newly acquired routine. While settling in for the night I heard something. Yes, I used the broad word something. It is only being used because at the time the something could’ve been anything, I had no idea what. Telling myself it was nothing t be concerned about, I rolled over and closed my eyes with a smile of satisfaction of my day.
The next night at the same time, just as the sun was done setting, I heard it again. This time it didn’t sound like something, it sounded much like little children, girls, playing in the small back yard. Jumping out of bed with surprise, I sprung to the window. Nothing. There wasn’t anyone there. I could still hear it though. I told myself there had to be somebody there. These sounds just don’t pop out of the walls. Again finding nothing, I laid back down in bed. Confused, I didn’t ask any questions and just slipped off into my nightly haven.
Little girls, no older than five or six were reciting, “Ring around the Rosie, pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down.” Everyone knows that little rhyme. What was different this time was it wasn’t being sung. It didn’t sound happy, joyful, or fun. It sounded much like a drone of pain being recited and not sung like what I was use to. In the same drone tone, as the girls spotted me, said, “It took our mother, our father, and our brother. It came after us and we ran. You cannot run from something you cannot see.” That was all they said before I woke up.
Raised in a panic sweat, I found myself wide-awake and aware of what I had just seen, I jumped back to the window and ripped open the curtains. Darkness, that was all that my sight could spot. Under the tree where I had seen the girls in my dream, vanished. Had all just been, a dream? Just a nightmare to remind me that reality is only an hour or four days way. That had to be it, just a nightmare and nothing more. Slowly I closed the curtains and made my way back to the huge and now comforting bed.
“You cannot run from something you cannot see. We will come after you.” I couldn’t move. My eyes were closed, it had to be a dream, and I had to be imagining it all. Eyes still pressed firmly closed, I saw nothing. I slowly opened my eyes, fright running down my spine and there they were. The two girls, no more than six years old, were wearing old tattered, faded baby blue, dresses. It appeared they were standing right beside my bed. Only appeared because I refused to believe it until I heard, “You cannot run from what you cannot see. We are coming after you.” The two girls vanished as quickly as they had appeared. What could that possibly mean?
The next day I put aside my lack of sleep and hoped right into my new routine, which I enjoyed very much. Though I could tell today was going to be different. It looked very over cast out the large windows and the breeze kept insisting on keeping them closed. I was working at the dinning room table on my writing, with papers spread out everywhere along the long table. Suddenly, a very cold breeze blew from behind me and blew all the papers up in the air and then carried them to the floor. Impossible, all the windows were closed to keep the storm out. Written across one of my papers, I discovered while picking them up, was the words very darkly written. “We are coming for you.”
What could be coming that I couldn’t see yet could see the warning in little girls that seemed to be ghosts? Utterly confused I pushed it to the back of my mind and just left my papers sprawled upon the rug and went to lie down. Closing my eyes almost involuntarily I discovered all the answers I would need.
The girls’ names I learned were Hayley and Samantha. They came across in my mind, almost by accident, and told me their story, in that drone voice they had been threatening me with. Hayley was exactly two years older than Samantha. Her six and Sam four when a terrible disease swept away all they held close. They were very poor when this disease took over and could not seek medical attention for they lived here, at least an hour away from town. The girls, their brother and parents, lived in the very house I was visiting back in the eighteen hundreds.
This sickness struck their father first because he was the only one that went to town at all, they concluded. Sores sprouted from his face and arms. Like roses they seemed to bloom but did not bloom with beauty but instead with pain. Hayley remembered caring for her father, hoping that he would get better soon. Not even a day after he claimed the killer sore roses had, spread to their mother and older brother. Unsure what else to do Hayley and Sam took care of their dying family.
Two days after their father had become ill and the day after the rest of their family caught it a horrific smell came over their mountains. The only way to cover up the smell was to keep the small flowers of Posies in their apron pockets. After returning from picking the small flowers they found their family dead.
Terrified that this evil sore rose was going to come after them they ran. Little six-year-old Hayley and four-year-old Samantha ran. Having nowhere else to go they targeted for the city where their father had always gone and talked about. Upon their arrival to the bottom of the mountains ashes filled the air and rained down on them. The horrific smell attacked their noses yet again and so badly that the flowers could not cover it up anymore. Along with the horrific smell Samantha became very ill. Hayley had no other choice than to take her back home to the dead family. During the hike back to the house Hayley unknowingly became ill as well. Barley arriving upon the steps of their own house they both collapsed and with one last scream was dead.
The sprits of these two poor little girls have not yet found peace among the rest of the dead that passed because of this disease. They have been desperately searching for their family and have yet to find them. Uncociously they have been killing off the visitors of this house in search of a family to join them. They little rhyme of ring around the Rosie is the last thing anyone has heard before joining their dead family.
“Ring around the Rosie, pockets full of posies, ashes, ashes, well all fall down”

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