Sunday, May 20, 2012

The Victorian Asylum - Short Story "Dearly Departed"

The Victorian Asylum
Short Story
“Dearly Departed”

August 18, 1887

Robert Winters entered his beloved’s bedroom to find her hanging from the heating pipe with the sheet from her little cot bed.  His heart stopped beating as he looked at her lifeless body just hanging there, cold and dead.

            “Why, Elizabeth?  Why?” He asked out loud.

            Then he remembered she kept a diary that would hold all the answers if it were found.  Before reporting her suicide, he ransacked the room, looking for the leather bound book. 

          Where could she have hidden it? He wondered, looking for it in the dresser that she shared with another girl, Nicole.  It was nowhere to be found.  Could it be that she had given it to Nicole? They were roommates after all.  Time went by quickly and Robert gave up his search for the diary.

            He left the room and headed down to the nurse’s station to report Elizabeth Dwyer’s suicide.  It would get quite frantic after that and he wouldn’t have the time to find that diary with all the orderlies coming in to get her down from the pipe.  Robert didn’t know if he could clean her up for the shroud.  He thought about leaving that job for one of the other orderlies.  Then he grew concerned at what they might think and decided to do the deed himself.

            “Yes Robert, may I help you?”  Nurse Becker asked as he approached her.
            “Yes, I’m afraid we’ve lost one.  Elizabeth Anne Dwyer has taken her life.”
            “I see,” said the nurse nonchalantly.  The nurse looked for Elizabeth’s chart among the other charts and began writing something in it.

            “I’ll send for Dr. Hartford. In the meantime, you and Samuel can clean her up.  You’ll find the shrouds in the back of the linen closet,” she said coldly.

            “Yes, Nurse Becker,” he replied.
With that, Robert went looking for Samuel Richards to have him help cut her down.

Already the news had spread and the girls watched and cried as Robert and Samuel prepared Elizabeth’s body for the shroud.  Nicole pulled Heather aside and whispered something to her.  Heather nodded and they turned back to the morbid scene.

Robert tried not to cry as he washed her delicate body. The body he fell in love with. The body he made love to.  She wasn’t really there anyway, he thought.  She was probably in limbo floating around with no place to go because she committed suicide. Or perhaps she was burning in hell for her sins in which he were responsible for, the courting, the love-making, all with a married man.  He was coming to see her to tell her that he committed his wife, Angela to the women’s ward on grounds for excessive sexual desire.  What did Dr. Hartford call that—The Wandering Womb?  He couldn’t remember.  Whatever the case, his wife was gone and now so was his lover.

Elizabeth’s preparation was nearly complete.  Robert found her brush and brushed her hair.  Then with Samuel’s help, they put on the shroud.

“What a waste,” said Samuel.  “Wonder why she did it?”

“I’ve no clue,” Robert lied.  He had a feeling it was his fault.

They put her on the gurney and began the dirge down the hallway of the girl’s ward. All eyes were on them, all with tears.  The girls had been close to her.  Robert tried to look at them to see if they knew anything.   Just the heartfelt stares of the girls stared back at him.

The doctor was waiting for them up at the nurse’s station.

“Is this the girl?” The doctor asked.

“Yes, Dr. Hartford,” Robert answered.

The doctor turned to the desk and signed a paper.  It was more than likely the death certificate.  Then Nurse Becker signed the same paper.

“Take her to the morgue.  I’ll send word to Ravenwood Hospital that we have organs for their anatomy classes,” Dr. Hartford said.

Robert and Samuel wheeled her body down the rest of the hallway, past the other girls who were not ‘Ophelia’s’.  Their rooms were dark and damp, with cot mattresses lying on the floor for their beds.  They were treated terribly, but not as bad as someone who was sent to isolation.  They were sent to a cage in a dark room in the basement where the plague rats roamed. 

The morgue was down in the basement too, underneath the surgery auditorium.  No one went down there alone.  It was said to be haunted by the asylum inmates that died.  Robert wondered if Elizabeth’s spirit was there.

There were two other bodies down in the morgue when Robert and Samuel arrived with Elizabeth.  The mortician and his assistant looked up from the body they were working on.

“Wheel the body right over next to the man that’s draped and prepped for organ removal,” ordered the mortician.  “Oh my, a busy day we have here and it’s just an hour after lunch.” He placed his scalpel down on the table.

He walked over to the fellows and looked at the grey colored face of the eighteen year old girl.      
“Pity, tsk, tsk,” he muttered, shaking his head. He pulled the shroud down to expose the neck.  

“The bruises around her neck indicate suicide by hanging; poor girl and such a pretty girl, indeed.”

“Yes,” Robert said absent mindedly.  “She was one of the Ophelia’s.”

“Ah yes, our dear beautiful crazy girls, the good doctor’s pets.  He will be sad that this one had taken her life. My heavens, what a beautiful creature she was.”

Robert took a chance to talk to the loony mortician who was a wise soul.  Dr. Willard knew things and was full of random knowledge, and could possibly know about the hauntings that were supposed to have gone on down here in the morgue.  If he had seen anything or heard anything, then maybe it was possible that he could see or hear his beloved, Elizabeth.

            “So are the rumors true, is this place haunted?” Robert asked
The dear doctor dismissed his assistant and Samuel said he better get back to the floor.  The doctor then sat upon a stool by a desk and started to look over the charts of the day.

            “Now let me see here,” the doctor started, “not too long ago I saw a spirit of a young boy.  He was one of my patients.  He had died of the plague and almost a whole section of the hospital had to be shut down because of it.  But yes, I met his spirit and all he could manage to say was, Help us!  I know not how to help, but I try to give him company when I see him.  I talk to him and ask him to tell me how to help him and the others.  Usually he never answers me.  I don’t know if he can’t or won’t tell me.  Spirits are strange like that.  Then again, I’ve only met one,” he laughed.

Robert wanted so badly to see Elizabeth’s spirit, but he didn’t know if it was possible.  He wondered if he could sneak back into the morgue and sit it out for an entire night to see if she showed herself.  That was crazy thinking.  Or was it?

            There was proof that spirits have been seen.  Dr. Willard said he saw one of a young boy.  Maybe it was possible he could see his beloved and ask her why she committed suicide.

            That night, when all the wards were locked down and Robert was free to go home, he snuck down to the basement and went into the morgue.  Dr. Willard and his assistant were long gone and the bodies were put away.  Robert turned the over-head lights on and sat at the desk.  He thought about taking Elizabeth out from where she was stored to take one last look at her before they stuck her in the crematory furnace then put her ashes in the ground in the cemetery behind the asylum tomorrow.  But he decided against it, he just didn’t want to see her like that.

            He was tired from the day’s work and wanted nothing more than to go home and get some sleep and not think about the day’s events.  The large Victorian clock above him ‘tick-tock’ away the time slowly hypnotizing him to sleep.



Robert felt something touch his shoulder.  He stood up so fast he knocked over the chair and fell over backwards onto the floor.

            “Who’s there?”

            He saw nothing and heard only the clock ticking away the time. 

Robert clumsily got up off the floor and fixed the chair.  He sat back down on it and let out a sigh of relief.  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.


            Robert looked up and saw a surgical tray had fallen from its stand and onto the floor.

            “I’m not here to hurt anyone.  I-I-I just want to see my beloved, Elizabeth,” he stammered.

            The temperature of the room got colder and then the lights went out.

            “P-p-please don’t hurt me.”

            “Why are you here?” a female voice asked.

            He looked ahead of him, but didn’t see anything.

            “I’m here to see my beloved, Elizabeth.”

            “Go away!” cried the voice.

    He’d recognize that voice anywhere.  It was Elizabeth’s.

            “Elizabeth, please show yourself.  I love you!  I’m here for you.”

            A bluish-grey light began to take the form of a young woman holding a baby.  It was Elizabeth, alright.  But to whom did the baby belong?

            “I don’t want to see you,” she said.  Her voice sounded tiny and echoic.

            Robert walked toward the light and saw the baby had her looks.

            “Who’s baby?”
            “She’s mine.  Her name is Victoria.  I don’t know who the father is.  This is the baby that came out of me when the doctor took out my female parts.”

            “She looks like you,” Robert said.

            “I don’t care what you say.  I’m in this place because of you.  I took my life because of you and now I’m being punished for taking my life.  I shall remain a ghost in this hellish place for eternity!  The only good thing about this is Victoria.”

            “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth.  I never meant you any harm.  I even came to you this morning to tell you Angela is in the women’s ward, that we could live in my house until we found our own.  But when I went to your room this morning to get you, you were dead.”

            Robert wished he could hold her again, but even if she were here alive and well, she would be mad at him still.  She had every right to be.  He had betrayed her and he had no right even to beseech her now.

            “Robert, it still wouldn’t be right.  I would have not gone with you to live in your house.  You betrayed me by lying to me and I’ve been nothing but honest with you this entire time.”

            He lowered his head in shame.  “I will leave you, Elizabeth Anne, and never search you out again.  I am sorry I did this to you.”

            With that, Robert started to leave the morgue.

            Elizabeth floated off.

            The lights came on and Robert was all alone again.  The temperature began to rise and all seemed well.
            Robert wasn’t well.  He was sad and upset with himself.  He destroyed a girl’s life—one whom he loved so very much—in life and in afterlife.  He would leave her alone for now, but he was greedy and he would be back to see her again.

Copyright © Karen Elizabeth Waters 2012

Edited by S.B. LaCroix

Friday, May 11, 2012

Waking up crying from a nightmare...

I went to bed early tonight (10:30pm) and just woke up crying from a dreadful nightmare!  In it, I was hanging out with my childhood best friend, Sarah.  In the dream she had all these exotic pet snakes that were poisonous.  Their cage fell over in her room along with a fish tank and they were swimming in the water.  I didn't get out in time and I got bit by three of them.  Once on my ankle and twice on my foot.  All on my left leg.  It got swollen so fast and my kitties were there and I frantically had to get them out of that room.  All but one made it.  Stardust got bit and I actually heard her say, "I'm getting sleepy mommy.  I'm so sorry.  I can't stay awake."  Then she died.  One of the snakes was a venom spitting snake and it spit in my kitty, Tristan in the face.  I hurried up and got them out of the room and made it downstairs and told Sarah's dad what had happened.  He quickly called an ambulance and because they lived right next door to the hospital, the EMT's showed up right quickly.

In the mean time, Sarah gathered her pet snakes and let them loose in her yard for some dumb reason.  She had like sixteen of them.  She didn't get all of them so some were loose in the house.  I told Sarah's dad to get my kitties out of there and get them to a vet immediately.  Which he did and he said he would pay for the cost to get them better.

When I got to the hospital, my leg was so swollen, I couldn't walk.  I couldn't feel anything either.  I had peed my pants too because the numbness had gone up into my hips and I had no control of my bladder.  It smelled bad because of the venom.

Fast forward like dreams do.  I was better and went to the vet's to pick up my kitties.  All of them lived, but Stardust.  The killer though, was Tristan had computerized eyes because he was blinded by the spitting snake and he looked like he was in so much pain.  Like I should have put him down instead of letting him be saved.

I woke up crying just a moment ago.  I truly hate nightmares.  Especially ones about snakes.

I remembered that dream detail for detail so I wanted to write it down in my blog.  I'm going back to bed now and I hope the nightmares stay away.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Scattered Images

All these broken pieces of glass
shattered for you.
This mirror in front of me reflects
scattered images of all the
personalities that I've become.
A little girl with pigtails,
innocent and shy.
A young teenage girl, lost
in poetry and prose.
A woman with distrust
in her heart.
A wise old woman with
years of wisdom.
All of these in one mind.
One body.  One soul.
To venture out into the world
of the unknown with these
characters, like from a book,
mingle amongst one another
and form their words
carefully trying not to give
away their secrets.
My voice cuts through walls.
My blood runs hot to cold.
Another dead body rotting
in a living body.
What say you?
Forever and always.
How can you criticize?
You know my actions are
not my own.
These possessions take over
me and I have nowhere to turn.
This is it.
This demise.
I take the rope and wrap it
around my neck.
A confused child.
A depressed teen.
A melancholy woman.
A profound thinker.
It's not the past that
I'm afraid to see.
The chair tips over
and snap goes my neck.
All is lost.
And the pieces of me are
trapped in the mirror waiting
for an escape.

Copyright © Karen Elizabeth Waters 2012

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Recap of my show

I'm listening to my show with Viktor that was on earlier tonight.  I had to hear if I sounded stupid or what.  So far, so good.  My phone kept cutting me off though.  That sucked.  I'll have to say an apology to Viktor for that.  I had my phone on speaker phone so Justin could hear it.  He was here and decided to sweep my floor while I was talking to Viktor on the phone.

Viktor gave me a ton of ideas to further my poetry AND my short story 'The Victorian Asylum'.  He just loves my work.  That makes me smile from ear to ear.  I live only to entertain.  I don't care to become famous or rich.  That's greedy.  Those that want that will fail and if they don't fail, something will happen to them because Karma doesn't reward those who are greedy.

I love hearing Viktor doing my poetry.  He did an awesome job on my short story too.  So for those of you who missed it, you can go to the link that I'll provide again.

I'm getting tired.  My part of the show is almost over.  So I'm gonna end this blog and head to bed with the babies.

Good night, chillens.  I shall spoke upon you all when I rise.

Dark Kisses,

Karen Elizabeth

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Whispers in the Dark Blog Talk Radio Show

A final announcement before I head to bed.  Click on the link above to head on over to the blog talk radio show that I will be featured on during the second hour at 10pm Eastern Tuesday, May 8th.  Hear my poetry and short story done by Viktor Aurelius.  Call in to ask questions or just show your support, the number is on the link once you've clicked on it.

This should be a most chilling night!

Come join us!  Get a taste of darkness!

Monday, May 7, 2012

The Living Dead

The virus has been released.
The air is poisonous.
Seek shelter or turn into
the living dead.

As the air clears,
the survivors venture out.
The world is still
and silent.

And then they come.
The walking dead.

Blood streaks their faces.
Streaks their clothes.
They're hungry for
your flesh.

It's really happening.
It's like the movies.
Where can you go?

You hide in your house.
But you don't have
enough food.
You don't have any weapons.
Oh my God!
You hear something
on your porch.

You duck into a closet
and hope whoever,
whatever, will go away.

You hear a window break.
Oh, please God, don't let them
find me here!

There's shuffling and scuffling.
Crashes and bangs.
They're coming closer.

You try to breathe as
softly as possible.

The door swings open
and you make eye contact
with one of them.

Dear God, let them kill me,
I don't want to be what they are.

It lets out a moan and grabs
you by the throat.
You can't breathe.
You close your eyes.
This is going to be painful.

It bites you in the neck and
rips the skin and muscle off.
Blood pours from the wound
and you start to get light-headed.

Then everything goes dark.
Another victim of the
living dead.

Copyright © Karen Elizabeth Waters 2012

Friday, May 4, 2012

The Victorian Asylum - Short Story - "Better Off Dead"

The Victorian Asylum

Short Story

"Better Off Dead"

August 18, 1887

      “They wheeled her shrouded body out on the gurney and headed down to the morgue beneath the surgery auditorium. We watched and cried softly, for we knew it was not yet her time. We also knew that she had done this—to  herself…”
      Later that night, when all the nurses passed out our medicines, we hid them under our tongues and sneaked into the asylum dining room.

     “Give it here!” Alice demanded.

     “No, I found it; so, I’m reading it first.” stated Nicole.

      I grabbed the diary and the two girls jumped back. They knew not to fuck with me. I was their leader in so many ways. “We will read it together,” I announced.

     The dozen or so faces stared up at me- eagerly waiting for me to begin reading Elizabeth’s diary.

      “’Dear Diary, Mum and Dad thought it was best if I ‘rested’ for a while here in the asylum. It’s been a year and all I’ve done is made friends and met the love of my life, Robert.”

      “Robert? Does she mean the orderly?” Rebecca asked.

      “That’s the only ‘Robert’ I know of,” I said.

     “Go on, Heather, what else does it say?” The girls chanted.

      I continued reading the beautiful penmanship. “He’s unlike any man I’ve met in this horrible place so far. The men here are truly dreadful! They touch you in places only a husband should touch you. And if you’re really pretty and a virgin, which most of us girls were until we came here, they’ll take your virginity from you.” We all nodded in agreement. If you were ugly, they made you rub their cocks until they squirted. Or worse, suck them.
        “Robert and I have been sneaking around when no one is looking—and  flirting with each other. He has declared his love for me. I have accepted it and declared my love for him. If ever I get out of this hellish place, we will run away together and get married. I am old enough now that I do not need my parent’s permission to marry. Plus, they have disowned me for being insane. Be that as it may, I never want to see them again. Sending a 17 year old to an insane asylum for having emotional sickness every time I have my menses is not my fault. Most of us girls have that problem, but some are truly insane and need to be here. I have to go now, it’s time for bed. When the nurses fall asleep, I’ll be sneaking out to the dining room with the other girls to have a secret meeting. Love, Elizabeth”

     “So, Miss Elizabeth was being courted by Robert the orderly?” I said to the girls. “Shall I continue?” The girls squealed with joy. Hopefully, it would get juicy.

     “Dear Diary, It finally happened! Doctor Hartford took my female parts to end the menses and the emotional outbreaks once a month. I’m crying because, the pain is unbearable! It feels like someone just ripped my insides out and the rag they have between my legs is sopping wet with blood from the surgery. I’m surprised he used that revolting smelling stuff to knock me out for the procedure. I’m shocked that it actually worked. The pain is unbearable! I know they have stuff for the pain; but, they’re not giving it to me. I know this because Robert told me that they would give me something new called ‘morphine’. I never heard of it, of course, but he claims that the good doctor takes it for pleasure. Some doctor. Maybe, if I cry louder, they will give me something for this pain? I will try. I’ll be back. It’s been so long and no one is coming. Don’t they care? Robert would care. He would help me if he was here; but, he’s working on the mens ward today. God, how I miss him. I can’t wait to be released from here once I get better. That is, IF I get better. If I don’t stop bleeding, I’m sure to die. I know that’s happened. I’m surprised they didn’t put leeches on me. Oh, the thought of those bloodsucking creatures sucking the blood from my female anatomy. That just sends shivers down my spine.” I shivered at the thought of having leeches put on my private parts.

      “This is boring!” cried one girl. “I want to hear about Miss Elizabeth and Robert!”

      “Yeah, this is unbecoming to hear, Heather. Find something else.” Alice complained.

      I flipped through the pages and saw that she had survived the surgery. She also found out from the doctor that she had been with child. The doctor knew it was one of his orderlies that took care of her; but, he blamed some other man from outside of the asylum. It wasn’t Robert’s, either. He was always gentlemanly to her.

     Then, I found a good and juicy part. “I’ve got a good one, girls. Listen to this!” I said. “Dear Diary, I am so in love with Robert. Tonight, we made love. It wasn’t like when the orderlies do it to you. It was beautiful. I saw stars. He was so gentle and talked to me so tenderly. I wasn’t afraid either. It was like we were meant to be together, as one. He promised he would marry me as soon as they released me. Any day now. Any day now.”

     All the girls “oohed” and “awed”. “So what happened? Why is she dead?” asked a small girl at the back of the room. It was Angel. She was a tiny little girl with a shaved head. Her family had sold her hair for money. When that ran out, they sold her to the asylum, claiming she was an unfit child.

     “I’ll read the last entry.” I said, as I flipped through the pages eagerly. Without reading ahead, I began. “Dear Diary, This is the last time I will ever write in you. Robert has deceived me. He has told me nothing but lies which I hope he burns in Hell for. I am free of this place but, have nowhere to go. Tomorrow, I begin my new life. When I told him this, he got scared and started telling me that it was way too soon. That he didn’t have a place for us to move in to. I started to believe him, and then, one of the other orderlies passed us. We were hidden in the shadows, or so I thought, and he said the most horrible words in the world. ‘I wouldn’t want to be Robert. His wife is so ugly; I bet she barks at the moon!’ His WIFE?! I looked him straight in the eye and asked him if it were true. He told me it was true, but that he loved me more than anything and he wanted to marry me all he had to do was get rid of his wife so he could marry me. I should have known he was a married man. Just like he should have known I was a crazy girl. My first love. Married! I didn’t have the heart to break up his marriage or rather I thought I’d make him suffer. Suffer just like I’m suffering right now. He will regret this day forever. And so, Diary, this sheet on my bed, I am tying to the heating pipe that runs across my room and I will hang myself until I breathe no more. I know nothing of how to take care of myself. I will not wait for a married man to unwed himself, and I will make him suffer with the thoughts of me dying, here, in this insane asylum. Good-bye girls. If you should find this, keep it with you always. And NEVER trust a man. They are liars! Even the good ones. Sincerely, Miss Elizabeth Anne Dwyer aged 18.”

     I put the leather bound book down in my lap. We were all crying. Miss Elizabeth was gone now, stuck in the morgue, waiting to be burned like the rest of the past inmates. That would be after they took her organs out and sold them to hospitals for anatomy schooling. I only know this because I’ve been here for five and a half years and I’ve seen everything.

     Tomorrow, the pretty girls were going to wear their silk dressing gowns and get flowers arranged in their pretty hair and be put on display for all the men in town to see. ‘Come see the Ophelia’s!’

     “I don’t go to church, but I believe in God so, let’s say a prayer for Miss Elizabeth.” We all bowed our heads. “God, if you’re really there, please send Miss Elizabeth to Heaven where she won’t hurt anymore. Amen.”

     With that, we got up off the floor and headed back to our rooms to repeat the same routine as always, only now… without Elizabeth.

Copyright © Karen Elizabeth Waters 2012  

Edited by ZyWa

Pond of Love

I gaze out my window and see only the dark heavens and rain.
It falls down and washes away what is left of winter.
I close my eyes and remember the forest that we met each other in.
A small pond I sit next to and dangle my naked feet in.
Around me, a small group of animals curiously look upon me.
I begin to sing to them.
One in particular is a duck.
He crawls up onto my lap and I stroke his feathers.
I fall in love with him and he falls in love with me.
A new found friend for life.
We have an understanding of each other.
I tell him stories of my life, he tells me stories of his.
One day, I return to the pond to see the duck crying. 
I ask him why he is crying.
He tells me that life has cheated him.
I ask him why.
He proceeds to tell me that he wants so much to marry me,
But he is a duck and cannot.
I start crying for I wish it were true.
Suddenly, a magical thing begins to happen.
The duck takes human form and I stare into human eyes.
“I love you,” the duck tells me.
“And I love you,” I tell him.
Together we walk hand in hand out of the forest.

Copyright  ©  Karen Elizabeth Waters 2003

This is my first prose.  Go easy on me...I know it's not the Frog Prince.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

The Haunted Piano

In a room lit with candlesticks,
the glow shines down upon
a haunted piano.

The keys move up and down
and play a sad melody
from a time long ago.

I walk towards it and
feel a gentle breeze.
The candle flames
flicker in the wind.

I lie my head down on
the heart of this glorious
instrument and listen
to the hammers inside
hit the strings with precise

The tune is one I know well.
Moonlight Sonata by

I make my way to the bench
and watch the keys move
with the ghostly fingers that
press them.

I sit on the bench and feel
instantly different.
Like someone just entered
my body.

And suddenly I'm playing
the piano like I've never
played it before.

I don't need to know where
my fingers need to go,
I have the music memorized.

It's coming to the end of the song.
I begin to feel sad.
My own feelings.
The soul that's in me feels sad too.

The final chord.
It's over and I'm all alone
with my fingers still holding down
the keys of the final chord.

The ghostly player has left.
All that's left is me and the piano
and the many candlesticks.

I get up and blow one by one out.
Darkness creeps in.
I leave the room and close the door.
It is time for bed.

Copyright © Karen Elizabeth Waters 2012

Twitpic - Share photos and videos on Twitter

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We are so cultured aren't we?

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Oh, one more I guess!

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Another one from EA!

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This just in from Emilie Autumn!  Plague Rats!  Come and see this magnificent beauty and art from the Mistress herself!

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Wasted Effort

Nothing seems the same for me,
Not in this state of mind-numb-fuck.
Just release all the tension in a symmetric swirl.
The Time has evolved us.
Through her, we see what or who we become.
Do you ever wish to change something that you did?
Do you ever wish to go back in Time and change an event?
Seems like a wasted effort to me.
Seems like life can be a wasted effort too.
Taking it for granted every fucking moment.
Never thinking, “This could be my last breath.”
I lie awake each night and hope and wish that
Someone would come and take me away from
All this misery that’s around me.
My love has been hung way too many times.
I’m done.
I’m gone…I’m through with this.
I tire from weeping all throughout the day and
Before my head hits the pillow at night.
No you didn’t do this to me, I did it to myself.
I’ll continue doing this until I get it right.
Then I’ll know my purpose in life.

Copyright © Karen Elizabeth Waters 2011

Beyond the Grave

What has brought me here?
I'm surrounded by ghosts.
Come back beyond the grave.
What do you want with me,
Faces of Victorian folks?
They utter whispers which
I cannot hear, but only feel
a chilly cold breeze.
I make my way through the crowd
and I feel this pressure against my chest.
They're holding me back.
The whirlwind of faces fly
around the room.
Their desperate cries for
me to hear them.
I want to hear.
one voice.
A female.  Child.
Reaches to me.
"Save us!" She cries!
The voice is far away,
but desperate.
I shout back.
"Open the window and
release our souls!"
Could it be that no one
ever let these souls go
once they died?
I make my way to the window
in the west and unlock it.
It's hard to open.
I push and push and
suddenly it gives and
cracks open.
The air sucks out into the night
and I'm all alone.
Whoever was here is now gone.
"Be at peace everyone." I say
towards the open window.
I leave the room, not
knowing what had just

Copyright © Karen Elizabeth Waters 2012