posted on: Thursday April 24, 2014
by Kiernan Dunlop ’14
Senior Portfolio Staff
It happened exactly 30 years ago in March of 1984. Emma didn’t talk about it after that, and no one wanted her to. Everyone just said it was much ado about nothing, and hoped saying it would make it true. She even did the townspeople a favor by spending most of her time working in the old curiosity shop in the village and staying out of their way.
Everyone who was old enough to be there remembered one thing above all about that day: the awakening. The horrible awakening that brought everyone out on the road in various stages of dress in the early hours of the morning. A scream resounded off the face of every building in the town that was so loud and powerful, the only source that could justify it was a murder in cold blood. Whispers and rumors grew as they all searched for the source of the scream, a search that brought them to the lighthouse.
Emma sat alone, covered in sand, wearing a white dress torn and frayed at the edges, and screaming at the top of her lungs having undergone some sort of unexplained metamorphoses from the quiet preacher’s daughter she was known as. Her face was the color purple that skin turns when all the oxygen has been drained out. The townspeople stood shocked at the sound and the fury behind the never-ending scream, no one moving. People eventually tried to approach the screaming woman, but little by little as she didn’t respond and didn’t appear physically harmed, people slowly trickled back to their lives, and then there were none. Emma was left alone, far from the madding crowd, and the incident became a source of gossip brought out for special occasions like town picnics and graduations.