Post by PhedraOriana on Mar 30, 2011 16:51:37 GMT -8
Stepping out of the sun onto the half fallen porch I took off my hat and sighed lightly. It had taken several hours to drive back here to Black Rose Manor in New Castle, Pennsylvania, where I once spent the best years of my life.
Xandra follow me though she decided to stay a few steps behind me cautioning me to be extremely careful. I looked up for a second at the blackened walls of the manor and took a deep breath wondering for a moment why after all these years I had decided to return.
The stale scent of smoke choked me even as I stepped over the threshold into the entrance way. I reached out and ran my hand over the rough walls as I had done so many times over the years. Xandra gasped lightly when the stone crumbled under my fingertips.
It took me several minutes to pick my way down the hall to where I felt I needed to be. It was known as the Garden door all those years ago, because it lead to the extensive Rose Gardens the manor is famous for even now.
My Great-Grandfather Alexander Sullivan had begun the tradition of planting a rose bush for each child every year of their lives. Grandpa always planted purple roses for me as they are my favorite. By the year I turned 16 the garden hosted more than 1000 rose bushes of every color of the rainbow.
Many people claimed even back then that the grounds here are cursed and now that I look back I believe they are probably right. The roses used to be every color imaginable but in the last year I lived here they all slowly turned black as if the ground had poisoned them.
Xandra put a hand on my shoulder and I turned to look at her. Seeing her here in the Manor brings back so many memories. Some of which I wish is didn’t have. With her here walking through the crumbling ruins it’s its like I can still feel his presence.
Even after all these years the ghost of him still walks these blackened halls. I can still see him as he was that last day here so many years ago when we were happy and in love.
It was a dark night and the party in the Manor was the grandest ever given there. We played the perfect hosts as we had been taught by our parents before we married. We were celebrating the news of our upcoming child that night, as we had found out just days before our upcoming addition would be a girl.
He was everything to me and had been since the day I meet him shortly after my sixteenth birthday. We was an apprentice with my father at his law firm. I never imagined I would see a day without him. It turned out to be such a horrible night that last one we spent at Black Rose Manor.
Over a hundred people crowded the ballroom that was decorated in lavender purple. A large banner proclaimed the coming of our daughter, the tables bore white and lavender roses and dishes, and the room flickered in the light of a thousand candles. Everyone wanted to be there to welcome the daughter of William and Grace Harris descendant of the Sullivan line.
Everyone grew silent as the orange light began to grow and spread. One of the many children had accidentally knocked over one of the candles lighting the room.
In the rush of people I got separated from my beloved William who was standing with me at the doors greeting our guests. It was getting harder to breathe by the second as smoke gathered in the room and no one could seem to find the nearest door. I stood rooted to the spot as I couldn’t believe what was happening around me.
My childhood home and my Great-Grandfather’s legacy was beginning to go up in flames. It had been taken three years to build the Manor and now it was all being destroyed. I coughed violently as smoke filled my nose and lungs.
Through the smoke I looked for familiar shadows of my friends. I jumped when someone wrapped their arms securely around my waist. I relaxed back again the strong chest of my William as he held me close to him for a second.
He turned me so I was facing him and covered my mouth and nose with a semi-thin clothe. I recognized it as one of his many handkerchiefs he keeps for his allergies. He explained to me it would help keep some of the smoke out. Before I knew what was happening I was swept up into his strong arms.
My dearest husband was determined to get me out of the inferno that has taken over our home. He turned and walked so surely toward where the garden door must have been located, leading everyone he could find along with us. I held the cloth close to my face as the smoke continued to thicken with every passing minute.
A fire leapt up in front of the door suddenly as we got close and I screamed in fear and pain. My feet were placed back on the floor carefully as William disappeared back into the smoke once more.
A minute later he returned with what looked to be a mattress from one of the guest rooms near the ballroom. It was an old flower thing but I had always found it to be one of the most comfortable in the manor. He looked along the wall for a moment before he moved over to a bay window about ten feet from the door. The two of us often sat there in the afternoons watching the sun playing on the petals of the rose’s in the garden.
William handed the mattress to his friend Matthias and grabbed one of the chairs and smashed out the glass of the window making a good sized hole in it. One of the other men helped Matthias heave it through the window. As the flames were getting slowly closer to the window William pulled one of the older teen boys closer to him and explained something to him quickly before the teen climbed through the window a blanket was placed over the broken glass to keep him from getting cut.
Once on the outside the boy motioned and William sighed. My husband studied the window for a moment before he turned back to me. William then picked me up once more and stepped over to the window. I understood then what he was doing and I took a deep breath of air and my husband handed me off into the care of the young man outside. The teen helped me gain my footing then turned to help the next person coming through the window.
Between William and the other men all the women and children were sent through the window and into the waiting group. The fire unfortunately by that point was too hot and far too close to the window for the men to try getting through it…they were trapped.
My greatest friend Isabel who I’ve known since infancy stepped as close to the window as she could stand to get and yelled at the top of her lungs to the men.
She told them to head for the Master Bedroom on the second floor. I got what she meant for them to do a second after she started speaking. Moving up next to her I told William they would have to jump from there.
Thankfully my father had built our pool close enough to the back of the house that the men could jump into it from our bedroom window without injury. They would have to hurry to get there as the flames began to consume a large amount of the manor.
William took off and the men followed him as he raced for the stairs. I took a moment to look at the other women before I took off for the back of the house.
In my mind I mapped out the route the men would have to take. Down the hall to the main staircase, up one flight of stairs, on the landing a quick right before heading to the end of the hall, a left and another hall and they would reach our bedroom. As I got to the corner of the back lawn I saw the first body hit the warmed water of the pool.
As more and more figures fell into the fool we saw the light of the fire bridage as they arrived to try and fight the inferno that was claiming our beloved home.
The men climbed out of the pool hugging their wives and children despite being soaking wet. Isabel nearly chocked the life out of her fiancé when he finally made it out of the pool. I watched waiting for William to come to me.
Isabel turned to me and my heart constricted. Her fiancé had told her that William had gone back to the first floor. Mr. Matthew’s had realized his youngest son Tristan hadn’t been with the earlier group of women and children gotten out of the Manor. William had gone back to the first floor to try and find the ten year old boy.
As we waited water began to rain down on us as the fire brigade began trying to douse the rising flames. It seemed hours passed before two figures leaped from our window, seconds before an explosion rocked the manor on it’s foundations and glass flew in every direction.
Mr. Matthews jumped back into the pool and grabbed William and Tristan when they seem to not move. With Isabel’s fiancé Ambrose’s help they pulled William and Tristan from the water.
I rushed toward my love and gasped at the sight of him. He is unconscious, probably from the explosion; he also has bad burns on his face, neck, arms, and hands. Luckily Tristan seems to be unharmed except he too is unconscious.
A hand on my shoulder pulled me from my remembrance’s as Xandra softly called to me. I turned to face my daughter and pulled her into my arms. She held me tight as I felt my tears begin to fall in remembrance of that night.
He should be here with us but he is not. After that fateful night it was never the same. William was hospitalized and for a while he was better even though he tired easily. We moved several hours away from Black Rose Manor and began a new life.
William was there when Xandra was born and his little girl looks just like him with beautiful raven black locks and brilliant emerald green eyes. We named her Xandra Elizabeth after my Great-Grandfather Alexander and his mother Elizabeth.
It happened in the winter shortly before Christmas a year and half after the fire. William and Xandra got caught in a rainstorm coming home from a visit with Isabel and Ambrose who still live close to us even today and William fell sick.
At first the doctor’s all said it was just a cold and that he would be over it in a few days. It only got worse though as the days went on. His fever reached such a high degree that it burned like fire all over his body. It reminded us once more of that fateful night.
Soon the doctor’s were telling us he had a sickness of the lungs, the fire had made his lungs weak and the sickness made it worse many times over.
I sat by his bedside and cooled his forehead for most hours of the day and Xandra stayed with Isabel and her family. As the days went on I began to grow more and more frantic to find a way to make him better.
It was two weeks later when he left this world and left us on our own. Being back here at Black Rose Manor brings some of the best and some of my best and some of my worst memories to the surface.
Xandra sighed softly as she took my hand and lead me back through the hall of the manor and out onto the front lawn. We stopped for a moment under the eve’s of a large maple tree and waited.
Looking back at the Manor I closed my eyes. A second later I opened them and for a moment it seemed as though Black Rose was returned to it’s former glory. Then in a flash of fiery orange it returned to the black and charred husk it truly is.
My daughter laughed a second later as two sets of arms were thrown around my legs. Xandra smiled and pulled her children from my legs. Her son William and his twin sister Cassandra are almost three now. This is their and their mother’s first time seeing Black Rose and hopefully it will be their last.
Gathering my family we climbed back into the car and Xandra started the engine. I looked back once more at my old home and sighed. The car began down the drive taking us away from the Manor and my memories faded back to the place where they had hid for so many years.
Black Rose Manor vanished behind us in the sunset as we drove off casting the ruins once again in the orange and red light of the fire. The gates closed behind us and as I looked back I whispered a final goodbye to my dear William whose spirit will remain with me until the day I pass from the world and the memories of our family home.
Xandra follow me though she decided to stay a few steps behind me cautioning me to be extremely careful. I looked up for a second at the blackened walls of the manor and took a deep breath wondering for a moment why after all these years I had decided to return.
The stale scent of smoke choked me even as I stepped over the threshold into the entrance way. I reached out and ran my hand over the rough walls as I had done so many times over the years. Xandra gasped lightly when the stone crumbled under my fingertips.
It took me several minutes to pick my way down the hall to where I felt I needed to be. It was known as the Garden door all those years ago, because it lead to the extensive Rose Gardens the manor is famous for even now.
My Great-Grandfather Alexander Sullivan had begun the tradition of planting a rose bush for each child every year of their lives. Grandpa always planted purple roses for me as they are my favorite. By the year I turned 16 the garden hosted more than 1000 rose bushes of every color of the rainbow.
Many people claimed even back then that the grounds here are cursed and now that I look back I believe they are probably right. The roses used to be every color imaginable but in the last year I lived here they all slowly turned black as if the ground had poisoned them.
Xandra put a hand on my shoulder and I turned to look at her. Seeing her here in the Manor brings back so many memories. Some of which I wish is didn’t have. With her here walking through the crumbling ruins it’s its like I can still feel his presence.
Even after all these years the ghost of him still walks these blackened halls. I can still see him as he was that last day here so many years ago when we were happy and in love.
It was a dark night and the party in the Manor was the grandest ever given there. We played the perfect hosts as we had been taught by our parents before we married. We were celebrating the news of our upcoming child that night, as we had found out just days before our upcoming addition would be a girl.
He was everything to me and had been since the day I meet him shortly after my sixteenth birthday. We was an apprentice with my father at his law firm. I never imagined I would see a day without him. It turned out to be such a horrible night that last one we spent at Black Rose Manor.
Over a hundred people crowded the ballroom that was decorated in lavender purple. A large banner proclaimed the coming of our daughter, the tables bore white and lavender roses and dishes, and the room flickered in the light of a thousand candles. Everyone wanted to be there to welcome the daughter of William and Grace Harris descendant of the Sullivan line.
Everyone grew silent as the orange light began to grow and spread. One of the many children had accidentally knocked over one of the candles lighting the room.
In the rush of people I got separated from my beloved William who was standing with me at the doors greeting our guests. It was getting harder to breathe by the second as smoke gathered in the room and no one could seem to find the nearest door. I stood rooted to the spot as I couldn’t believe what was happening around me.
My childhood home and my Great-Grandfather’s legacy was beginning to go up in flames. It had been taken three years to build the Manor and now it was all being destroyed. I coughed violently as smoke filled my nose and lungs.
Through the smoke I looked for familiar shadows of my friends. I jumped when someone wrapped their arms securely around my waist. I relaxed back again the strong chest of my William as he held me close to him for a second.
He turned me so I was facing him and covered my mouth and nose with a semi-thin clothe. I recognized it as one of his many handkerchiefs he keeps for his allergies. He explained to me it would help keep some of the smoke out. Before I knew what was happening I was swept up into his strong arms.
My dearest husband was determined to get me out of the inferno that has taken over our home. He turned and walked so surely toward where the garden door must have been located, leading everyone he could find along with us. I held the cloth close to my face as the smoke continued to thicken with every passing minute.
A fire leapt up in front of the door suddenly as we got close and I screamed in fear and pain. My feet were placed back on the floor carefully as William disappeared back into the smoke once more.
A minute later he returned with what looked to be a mattress from one of the guest rooms near the ballroom. It was an old flower thing but I had always found it to be one of the most comfortable in the manor. He looked along the wall for a moment before he moved over to a bay window about ten feet from the door. The two of us often sat there in the afternoons watching the sun playing on the petals of the rose’s in the garden.
William handed the mattress to his friend Matthias and grabbed one of the chairs and smashed out the glass of the window making a good sized hole in it. One of the other men helped Matthias heave it through the window. As the flames were getting slowly closer to the window William pulled one of the older teen boys closer to him and explained something to him quickly before the teen climbed through the window a blanket was placed over the broken glass to keep him from getting cut.
Once on the outside the boy motioned and William sighed. My husband studied the window for a moment before he turned back to me. William then picked me up once more and stepped over to the window. I understood then what he was doing and I took a deep breath of air and my husband handed me off into the care of the young man outside. The teen helped me gain my footing then turned to help the next person coming through the window.
Between William and the other men all the women and children were sent through the window and into the waiting group. The fire unfortunately by that point was too hot and far too close to the window for the men to try getting through it…they were trapped.
My greatest friend Isabel who I’ve known since infancy stepped as close to the window as she could stand to get and yelled at the top of her lungs to the men.
She told them to head for the Master Bedroom on the second floor. I got what she meant for them to do a second after she started speaking. Moving up next to her I told William they would have to jump from there.
Thankfully my father had built our pool close enough to the back of the house that the men could jump into it from our bedroom window without injury. They would have to hurry to get there as the flames began to consume a large amount of the manor.
William took off and the men followed him as he raced for the stairs. I took a moment to look at the other women before I took off for the back of the house.
In my mind I mapped out the route the men would have to take. Down the hall to the main staircase, up one flight of stairs, on the landing a quick right before heading to the end of the hall, a left and another hall and they would reach our bedroom. As I got to the corner of the back lawn I saw the first body hit the warmed water of the pool.
As more and more figures fell into the fool we saw the light of the fire bridage as they arrived to try and fight the inferno that was claiming our beloved home.
The men climbed out of the pool hugging their wives and children despite being soaking wet. Isabel nearly chocked the life out of her fiancé when he finally made it out of the pool. I watched waiting for William to come to me.
Isabel turned to me and my heart constricted. Her fiancé had told her that William had gone back to the first floor. Mr. Matthew’s had realized his youngest son Tristan hadn’t been with the earlier group of women and children gotten out of the Manor. William had gone back to the first floor to try and find the ten year old boy.
As we waited water began to rain down on us as the fire brigade began trying to douse the rising flames. It seemed hours passed before two figures leaped from our window, seconds before an explosion rocked the manor on it’s foundations and glass flew in every direction.
Mr. Matthews jumped back into the pool and grabbed William and Tristan when they seem to not move. With Isabel’s fiancé Ambrose’s help they pulled William and Tristan from the water.
I rushed toward my love and gasped at the sight of him. He is unconscious, probably from the explosion; he also has bad burns on his face, neck, arms, and hands. Luckily Tristan seems to be unharmed except he too is unconscious.
A hand on my shoulder pulled me from my remembrance’s as Xandra softly called to me. I turned to face my daughter and pulled her into my arms. She held me tight as I felt my tears begin to fall in remembrance of that night.
He should be here with us but he is not. After that fateful night it was never the same. William was hospitalized and for a while he was better even though he tired easily. We moved several hours away from Black Rose Manor and began a new life.
William was there when Xandra was born and his little girl looks just like him with beautiful raven black locks and brilliant emerald green eyes. We named her Xandra Elizabeth after my Great-Grandfather Alexander and his mother Elizabeth.
It happened in the winter shortly before Christmas a year and half after the fire. William and Xandra got caught in a rainstorm coming home from a visit with Isabel and Ambrose who still live close to us even today and William fell sick.
At first the doctor’s all said it was just a cold and that he would be over it in a few days. It only got worse though as the days went on. His fever reached such a high degree that it burned like fire all over his body. It reminded us once more of that fateful night.
Soon the doctor’s were telling us he had a sickness of the lungs, the fire had made his lungs weak and the sickness made it worse many times over.
I sat by his bedside and cooled his forehead for most hours of the day and Xandra stayed with Isabel and her family. As the days went on I began to grow more and more frantic to find a way to make him better.
It was two weeks later when he left this world and left us on our own. Being back here at Black Rose Manor brings some of the best and some of my best and some of my worst memories to the surface.
Xandra sighed softly as she took my hand and lead me back through the hall of the manor and out onto the front lawn. We stopped for a moment under the eve’s of a large maple tree and waited.
Looking back at the Manor I closed my eyes. A second later I opened them and for a moment it seemed as though Black Rose was returned to it’s former glory. Then in a flash of fiery orange it returned to the black and charred husk it truly is.
My daughter laughed a second later as two sets of arms were thrown around my legs. Xandra smiled and pulled her children from my legs. Her son William and his twin sister Cassandra are almost three now. This is their and their mother’s first time seeing Black Rose and hopefully it will be their last.
Gathering my family we climbed back into the car and Xandra started the engine. I looked back once more at my old home and sighed. The car began down the drive taking us away from the Manor and my memories faded back to the place where they had hid for so many years.
Black Rose Manor vanished behind us in the sunset as we drove off casting the ruins once again in the orange and red light of the fire. The gates closed behind us and as I looked back I whispered a final goodbye to my dear William whose spirit will remain with me until the day I pass from the world and the memories of our family home.