The Blue Umbrella

I was a little apprehensive about putting this story on here, mainly due to the fact it made an overly sensitive teacher at my old school have nightmares so bad she had to call her sister up to help calm herself down. Not sure how it will come across but I'd love to read your opinions in the comments below. 

I got the idea for the story after a man with a blue umbrella came up to my mum's friend and told her her dogs wanted him to kill her, he later appeared in her road, after following her home, shouting for her to come out of one of the houses.

I am a mother now; I have led a very fruitful, long life. I have married and have had three beautiful children, who themselves have grown into very special, individual young adults. My husband and I have lived in our house for ten years, leaving the city after our youngest child left and we are very happy here. As I look out the window whilst I write this I can see the old ladies walking to the post office which sits on the corner of our road. I smile as they doddle on their way and let my mind drift back to that day. I have never revealed what happened all those years ago, when I was only a girl of fourteen but the time has come for me to tell the tale. It has been such an important factor of my life and of my parenting that I feel I need to share it. As my children and husband will undoubtedly know by the time they read this, I fear that I do not have long to live, so now is the time to get it off my chest and hopefully come to terms with the trauma after all these years.

Every morning I had to walk our black Labrador, Missy to get my weekly pocket money. I would normally take a quick walk around the park which we lived opposite, let her go on a run for about ten minutes, call her back then go home again and leave for school.

On that day however I hadn’t slept most of the night; my first serious boyfriend had cheated on me and despite how I felt about him, I dumped him. Utterly heart-broken, I’d cried my eyes out all night. We had only been together for three months but for my fourteen- year-old self, my love life over as quickly as it began.

I had woken up an hour earlier than I usually would and despite my puffy eyes and aching muscles I decided to get out of the house and try and clear my head. I knew I would be seeing him that day during lunch break and wanted to, if necessary, have something witty and heartless to say to him, to pretend that I wasn’t hurt at all.

I tied my hair up, pulled on some jogging bottoms, trainers, an old t-shirt and one of my mums old jumpers which had old paint splatters on it. I was glad that no one I knew would see me like this. I didn’t even bother to brush my teeth or put on a pair of knickers. I left my room and crept down the stairs.

The bottom step creaked as I placed my foot on it and Missy was straight up out of her bed in the kitchen and ran over to me, tail wagging, loudly banging against the wall. I stroked her head whilst I puckered my lips at her and made kissing noises. She licked my lips and I giggled pushing her away.

“Com’on Missy...” I whispered to her.  “Walkies!” She bounded to the back door and I followed her smiling.

I unlocked the door and before it was fully open, Missy squeezed her head through the gap, overly eager to get out into the cool crisp morning. With her excitement she forgot to that her body was larger than her head and got stuck half way. Another giggle from me and she was out of the door. I grabbed her lead and a plastic bag and followed her to the back gate.

I turned to go left then stopped suddenly in my tracks. Left was bad. Left was the ex and a bit of bad luck would have him up and about at the same time as me, seeing me in the state I was now. I felt it best that the first time he saw me after our break up would be me looking my best. So at that moment, right was the better way to go.

I walked along the pavement, past the last few houses of our street, staring blankly at the closed curtains that protected the sleeping families inside. Missy kept pulling on the lead to run ahead then stopping promptly to either smell some rubbish or eat some grass.

 I was becoming impatient with her and decided that I’d cut through the woods that were coming up on my left to let her have a bit of a run, then cut back round a little further along and head home whilst still avoiding the ex. As I trekked on the house abruptly stopped and woodland and country side replaced them.

I told Missy to sit, checked the road was clear and then crossed to walk up a narrow public footpath that opened up into a lightly wooded area further on. I had to keep her on the lead for the first portion to make sure she got over the rail-way bridge that cut the wood in half ok.

We climbed the bridge and I let her go when we were on top. She ran off like a greyhound out of the gates and I was left on my own. I stared through the metal grate that was in place to stop any jumpers getting on the tracks. A tear ran down my cheek as I recalled meeting my ex for the first time at the station which I could see just down the tracks. I quickly wiped it away and cursed myself for getting emotional about it still.

I turned and headed down the steps after Missy. I whistled the tune of her name and heard her bounding through the woodland towards me. When she reached me seconds later she sat at my feet beating her tail side to side, sending up a small cloud of dust that had settled on the floor.

I held out my hand and she placed her paw in it.

“Gently,” I said as I handed her a treat. Naturally she nibbled my whole hand in her attempts to get at it. I wiped her slobber onto her head whilst stroking her and set off walking again, heading for the second cut through to get home. Missy was slightly ahead of me as we walked, happily smelling the ground and eating grass. I often thought that she would be better suited at being a goat sometimes rather than a dog.

I decided to step off the path and onto the woodland floor so I could crunch through the autumn leaves. They were dead and crisp and the crunch beneath my feet was a lovely distraction to the night before.

I remember smiling as the rays of sun fell between the branches of the overhanging trees and showering me with their warmth.

My detour through the leaves had given Missy the chance to gain a hefty lead so i stepped out of the undergrowth and back onto the dusty gravel path. Missy also must have released the distance that had stretched out between us because she had turned and come running back to me.

Just then I realised that Missy wasn’t heading directly towards me, but more to my right, towards the leaves that I had just trampled over. Maybe she’d seen a rabbit pop up and had gone to chase it.

However, when I turned around to see what she was looking at I saw a man. Stood casually against a thick trunked oak he seemed as if his being there was a perfectly normal thing to be doing alone at this time of morning. I jumped when I saw him and he must have seen this because he took a step closer to me as if to check that I was ok.

The man by the oak tree was dressed similarly to me. He wore black tracksuit bottoms and top, both black along with a black hat pulled down to his eyebrows and black gloves with the fingers cut off. In his left hand he held a blue umbrella which he was using like a walking stick.

Although I hadn’t seen him before it seemed as though he had been following me for a while and the sight of him sent a shiver down my spine.

Missy had bounded over to him and I couldn’t stop her. She wasn’t to know how I felt about the man and I calmed myself before I shouted out to her. She went about sniffing his trouser leg, happily wagging her tail at the stranger. He never took his eyes off of me but bent down and awkwardly stroked Missy’s back, unsure if he was doing it right.

I tired to smile at him to try and show that I wasn’t afraid but I’m sure it appeared that I was trying to hold back tears. He seemed to like that more somehow. He stepped out of the leafy path and onto the main gravel one, nearly kneeing Missy in her side with every step.

Luckily she lost interest in him and trotted behind me to have a sniff of undiscovered territory. The man never broke his stare on me. I couldn’t take it any more, the cold stare from those snake green eyes had broken me. I had to speak to him.

“Hello,” I said in the most calm many that I could muster, “Are you ok? Do you need any help?”

The man continued to stare at me. Never flinching and if he was blinking, I didn’t see it. He seemed to be in a trace, focussed solely on me, as if nothing else was around or real. Only me and him. Even the wood seemed to have fallen silent, the waking birds taking time out of their morning song to watch.

Out of no where the man spoke. Not quite a reply, just a statement.

“Your dog hates you.” His voice was coarse as if he had been outside in the cold and wind for a long time.

I was stunned. I had no idea what to say to such an out of the blue comment. The man smiled revealing no more than four teeth, all of which were black with rot.

“It thinks you’re evil. It hates you.” He was happy with his comments, he could see they hurt me.

Not knowing what else to say, I feebly smiled. “Sorry about that, better get her home then.” I turned to call Missy and heard him run into the bushes. I was afraid. I could feel my heart in my throat and felt as though I would be sick at any moment. I called Missy over but saw that she was down the path, eating something that might have been rabbit, fox or horse poo. I ran over to her and grabbed her collar. However when I turned back around to head to the bridge I’d crossed over he was standing in the path way again, staring at me, his teeth poking through the folds of his lips.

The other way back into the village was a good twenty minutes walk behind me and I didn’t feel like heading in that direction as I would only be stuck deeper in the woods with a strange man who was evidently mad. So I put on a brave face and pulled Missy forward by her lead which I had now attached. 

He stood there with the blue umbrella propped in his right side, leaning on it as casually as he had when he was by the tree. I tried to take a wide birth around him but he seemed to force me into the trees and leafy path again just by staring at me. It was almost as if he knew how to manipulate me perfectly. Before I knew it I was a good two hundred yards away from the bridge and had lost sight of him.

He stood silently. Missy was the same, perhaps she had sensed my fear. The woods were still and silent with us.

The rustling started from behind me but by the time I had turned around it was behind me again. Then I spotted him and fear hit me on a new level.  

He had opened the blue umbrella up and held it as far out as his arm would stretch as he ran a slowly constricting circle around me. His broken smile taunting me in a nausea inducing spin. I made a move to run back towards the bridge across the rail-way tracks but he was quicker than I expected. He cut me off and forced me further back, away from him into thicker woods.

I lost sight of him again. Somewhere between me and the thick trees I was  amongst and the bridge that would lead me to safety was a crazed man, with what intent? He hadn’t made a move to hurt me at that moment, that must have been a good sign? But something about that smile warned me to get out. I stopped again and calmed myself as best I could.

I turned and headed back to the direction I had come from when I saw him again. Just in front of me. I was trapped, the bush was too thick either side of me and the same was apparent to my rear, the only way was forward.

I nudged Missy in front of me and then set off on a ran towards him, hoping to find a way past without him touching me with those gloved hands. He must have realised what I had planned because he quickly started pulling branches causing them to fall in my path, slowing my progress and cutting my arms with the sharp thorns which many of them bore. I had slowed to barely a brisk walk when I made it past the last of the thick sharp undergrowth and back into the less condensed area. And he had gone again. I couldn’t believe how easily it had been to lose sight of him in the matter of seconds it must have taken me to clear my path of the last holly bush branch that he had blocked me off with. Me and Missy were alone again.

I had cuts all over my palms, my jumper and bottoms were ripped in many places and I could feel a sting above my eye as sweat dripped into the cut. At that time all my thoughts were on getting back to the bridge.

I ran as fast as I could, pulling Missy along behind me who was struggling to keep up with her old legs. Low hanging branches whipped past my face, the leafless branches smacking my cold cheeks and ears. I could barely feel the pain though as I tunnelled in on the bridge. I was approaching the bottom step when I skidded abrubtly to a halt, Missy sliding into my legs and knocking me off of them. At the top of the bridge the man stood proud and defensive. To describe the likeness of him at the moment to the troll from ‘The Billy Goats Gruff’ would not be misconceiving.

His eyes stared at me once more. This time though he was not happy like he had been when I was holding back tears. This time he was angry and I knew that I was in trouble then if I hadn’t been before. Missy lay down next to me, too exhausted to move. I too struggled to make any attempt to run away, fear frozen to the spot. The man took heavy footed steps down to my level. With each foot placement the step echoed a deep ominous sound, almost highlighting my fear.

He reached the gravel floor with a crunch of the stones and a slight plume of dust rising above his ankles. I went to stand but my ankle collapsed straight away. I had twisted it when Missy had crashed into me. I was now helpless. Tears uncontrollably streamed down my face and the man smiled, happy with my pain.

He was no more than two steps away from us now and there was nowhere else to go. Missy lay slumped on her side, panting heavily and I sat on my bum, crying my eyes out. I couldn’t bare it any longer.

“Please...” I sobbed. “Please don’t hurt me. Let me go, please.” My eyes were blurry and my bottom lip quivered as I cried. The man sad nothing, only stood watching me cry. Almost unaware that I had said anything. He was in control and that’s all that mattered to him. Before I knew what he was doing he lashed out a vicious kick in my direction. I flinched and clenched my eyes shut, expecting to feel a powerful blow land in my stomach but no such pain came. Instead something much more painful happened.

A yelp broke my selfish concern with myself. Missy had cried out as the man kicked her in her stomach which was the easiest target for him. She made an attempt to struggle to her feet but could manage no more than I could. He kicked her again. And again. A barrage of pain ploughed straight into my poor old dog. Completely defenceless she lay there, the yelps getting less frequent and much, much quieter. I was powerless to stop him, I begged and pleaded but that only seemed to fuel his viciousness more. I threw my hands and arms in front of poor Missy’s body but he kicked her head instead. All the while tears streamed down my face.

Finally he stopped and placed a blood spattered boot on top of my dogs body the way a hunter may pose for a photo after a particularly impressive kill. “It’s ok. She hated you anyway.” He said in a tone that suggested he meant well by his actions. “Now we can be alone.” I was crying.

He stepped closer towards me and kicked me hard on my left side spinning me over, face in the dust. I yelled out in pain like Missy had done. The man placed a bony knee into the small of my back and kept me pinned there. No matter how much I struggled I couldn’t shake him off. He pulled my left leg backwards to have my foot in the air and I tried to kick out at him with the free foot, forgetting that I had sprained it. The kick was hopelessly weak and he held tight to both feet with ease. He pulled my shoes off and discarded them next to the body of Missy.

I was crying more and more, struggling with all my might to break free, a small puddle of tears forming under my face in the dust. I knew what was coming before anything else happened.

He pulled my jogging bottoms down to my ankles. Trapping my legs together, making escape even more impossible.

He gripped my bottom hard and I could feel blood trickle past his long dirt ridden fingernails. He flipped my back over to face him. Half naked and trapped underneath the grubby man I felt my life would be over very soon.

He held my arms at my sides and shuffled round to position himself at my feet. He then pulled down his own trousers and moved closer. In a fluid motion he whipped my bottoms off and pulled my knees up, ready to have his fun.

“Stay quite and don’t resist and this will all be over.” As he separated my legs I attempted one final escape. I brought my knees up violently crashing them into his chin and nose. I heard a crack, a scream. But nothing more. He held me firm.

He edged closer and leant forward, his foul breath and black teeth consuming my senses. “Ready,” he said. And for me the world turned black.

I remember grunts, a sickening warmth and then coldness.

 I was found by the first dog walkers, Mrs. Lions about half an hour later. Half naked, tear drenched, blood splattered, cut, bruised and with a dead dog she feared the worst.

I remember her cradling me in her arms, crying gently with me, her coat covering my private parts. I remember my mother, crying, my father screaming. I remember the questions from the police, the school, friends, and enemies. I remember the nightmares, the jumping at every male voice, the look I got from every boy at school. No one wanted bad meat. I remember the shame, the guilt, and the loneliness.

Memory is a fleeting thing. Treasure the moments that we are lucky to forget.

My dearest children, I hope you understand why I was protective of my babies. My darling husband, I hope you can accept why I never told you.