I feel at peace, as I bike up a rocky road to an abandoned children's hospital.
So calm and quiet, no one to disturb me.
As I arrive at the entrance my baby memories come back. I was born here, 23rd July 1992 when technology was starting to become advanced.
Room C17 ward 5 is my place in the hospital. In that room is the bed where I was birthed, brought to life.
Funny thinking about it now we are in the year 2021 and I am ticking nearer to my 30th birthday.
What a shame it had to close down.
Just because it became so haunted. Well I believe them, the spirits of this magical place sooth me. They where born here too but yet couldn't make it far. The spirits here live through me and many others who came out of this hospital alive.
It begins to get dark but I am worn out. I have never spent a single moment in this hospital at night since the 24th July 1992. Although this place is haunted, the souls will not hurt me, they will protect me, especially from the nasty kayoties.
I begin to make myself comfortable on an old torn matress, looking through old records of the residents here from 1986, before my time.
One boy born September 18th 1986 called Maxwell Smith died at age 3 of bone cancer in room C17 ward 5. The Same place as I was birthed.
What a shame, he seemed like a charmer.
A girl born 5th April 1987 named Gizzele Collins died age 8 of luchemia. What a beautiful young lady she was, had a brilliant reputation at school, had a huge creativity spark. She was birthed and presumed dead in room C18 ward 5 which was next to me.
It is spectacular how both of these children where so close connected with me in the smallest of memories and places.
I closed my eyes gently as I began to fall asleep.
3 am struck as a bright light blinded my vision.
"Alex"
A gentle whisper of my name that was coming from what seemed like a little boy.
"Alex"
I heard it again but it seemed more sinister. A slight giggle was let out as I peared round the corner to see a little boy run. I chased after him in curiosity. I suddenly caught my leg on a piece of broken glass. I whimpered in discomfort as I wrapped a bandage round my leg.
"God damn it broken glass, I need to be more careful" I spoke to myself
"Shhhhh" I heard coming from behind me.
I spun around, in shock was a girl almost identical to Gizzele Collins standing there anxiously. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief.
"Gizzele?" I questioned her.
She did not speak but just calmly approached me.
"We all knew you would finally stay the night without being so cowardly" she tutted.
"Sorry young one but who are you? And how do you know who I am" I questioned her again
"Well you are correct sir, my name is Gizzele, born just over 5 years before you. I never saw you being birthed as you said in your thoughts but I watched you walk in and out of this hospital when you where ill or when you have broken a bone. First time was a year after my passing, October 31st 1998 when you had fallen over the concrete slab on your front porch, unfortunately causing your ankle to dislocated. You see I was there with you in that appointment, you couldn't see me but I could see you." She told me in a well manoured tone.
"You are well spoken of someone of your age" I complemented the girl.
"I may be presented in the same age as my death but do not forget that I am 35 years old" she replied bravely
"Well who was that boy, who whispered my name" I asked scarcely
"That is Maxwell Smith, you read about him a few hours ago before you slept. He was once a sweet boy but the demons got to him because he was so weak, don't let him fool you, he is almost the devil himself, playing tricks and illusions...." she stopped as she was interrupted by his giggle.
"So what do i do? I can't just leave you here, especially after you have been through" I panicked
"I will be fine, I have dealt with him for years, he can do no harm to me but if he gets to you, your body belongs to him." She warned me
"What do I do, I want to know you" I begged
"Once a week on a Sunday afternoon, preferably 3 o'clock, come here and we can speak where there is no danger but promise me you will not come here past 8pm as consequences will cause your death" she calmly said as she hugged me round the waist.
Slowly she lifts her head up passing me a small teddy that feels so really. With a tear in her eye she walks on through the wall.
To this day I have the teddy on my mantle piece and I go up to the old abandoned children's hospital on Sundays 3 o'clock in the afternoon to see her sparkle like the beautiful spirit she is.
