Fact or Fiction?

I’ve put a hold on the writing tips for the moment. I’m going to a car show and won’t have the time to put into the posts.

I’ve just had what I believe is a brilliant idea (I reserve the right to change my mind on that at any time).

Read this story and have a think on whether it’s a memory or a figment of my imagination - or a mixture of both.

For clarification - torch = flashlight - sorry for the confusion here.

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When I was around twelve years old or so, we played with the kids on the street and the streets close-by – around twenty kids at full-strength. Sometimes, the games were SO easy to organise. They just fell together and everyone had fun without getting into too much trouble.

Other times, it wasn’t so good. If the older kids came to influence the games, sometimes it could get a little… dark.

We lived close to an old house, with high, stone walls surrounding it. We could see the chimneys over the wall and if we were feeling a little adventurous, we’d boost each other up so we could see the gardens.

Old Hall

Up the little lane, onto our street, if I turned left instead of going straight on, I could see my great-grandma’s home. She lived in a bungalow in a small collection of other bungalows built for the elderly.

She lived at the bottom of that particular road, but I’m not going that far on this tale.

Two bungalows from the little lane, there lived an old couple. Both died within months of each other and for once, the bungalow stood empty for more than a few weeks.

Summer holidays had just started, the full collective of the kids gathered on the park and the older kids, full of excitement because of the summer holidays, decided it was time for an initiation ceremony.

We were all for it of course! It sounded like a great time…

We got rid of the smaller kids and those with limited athletic ability and it ended up that I was one of the youngest. Three others younger than me and all three had their older sibling to guide them. I’m the oldest in my family and my younger brother and sister were persuaded to leave that particular adventure and go off with the other younger kids.

I can’t imagine what it looked like when around twelve of us snuck into the back garden of the empty bungalow. We must have been spotted, we were not cat-burglars by any stretch.

Without a word, the three biggest lads and one brother younger than me started climbing the old stone wall that surrounded the old house. It was easy-going, the stones made a great climbing surface, plenty of hand and foot-holds.

Two sat on top of the wall to help anyone to the top and over. They had torches with them and in the gloom of twilight, the lights helped as we dropped over the wall. It may have crossed my mind that the idea may not have been as spontaneous as we’d first thought – why were they carrying torches if the idea just occurred to them?

Two others stood at the bottom on the other side to catch us as we dropped.

What we didn’t see at the time, was the wall on the other side was smooth and neat – no hand or foot-holds.

When everyone had made it to the ground, we split into three groups – one of the big lads headed each team – and went off in separate directions.

The group I was part of headed for the outbuildings.

One faded blue door hung off its hinges and we could see right inside. An old car stood off to one side of the massive garage. Covered in dust and droppings, the paintwork burgundy and cream, the headlamps pitted with rust and I thought that car was beautiful.

We couldn’t hang around to look at it though, and we certainly could NOT touch it! Off we went to the next out building.

We could hear hushed whispers and excited voices. Then other voices calling out harsh instructions to be quiet.

We came upon one of the other groups at the opposite end of the outbuildings and two of the girls in the group were crying. We didn’t know what had happened.

The very oldest lad, the one that had suggested we all go on this adventure came out of the barn. His face glowed bright in the moonlight, he had gone that pale.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” he said. He pushed his younger brother before him as he went. The brother, full of bravado because he’d been chosen as stand-in for the older lad that hadn’t made it that evening, jinked sideways and dodged his brother’s guiding hand.

He slipped into the barn, flicked on the torch and a couple of us slipped past the older lad to follow the youngest of our group. His older brother had gone really quiet and usually, he would have reacted with a cuff round the ear for his little brother when he disobeyed instructions, but not this time.

Danny was easy to follow, his torchlight shone in the gathering darkness. When it finally stopped and trained on something in the corner of the barn, we scrambled forward to see what he’d found.

I wish we hadn’t.

Danny fumbled with the torch, trying to click it off. Then he realised he could move the beam off the object and he swung the light back the way we’d come. I think I was the only one of us that saw what Danny saw.

“Andy?” he said, calling for his brother. “Andy?”

I turned around to look back at the doorway of the barn. There seemed to be more light than when we came in.

“Get out! Quick! Someone’s coming, we’ve got to get away!”

We ran for the door, the sight of what Danny had found wiped from our minds for the moment.

Rather than heading back to the wall, the way we’d come in, we followed the leaders to the end of the drive. A gate hung askew, not quite as dilapidated as the garage door with that beautiful old car.

Why we’d not come in that way was anyone’s guess. I suppose they wanted to make it more exciting for us. But they weren’t anticipating the find at the end.

Things were subdued when we got out of the grounds and went back up the little lane to the safety of our street. Everyone dispersed. My mum shouted me in. She’d been looking for me for ages and was angry. I didn’t want to risk making her angrier by telling her where we’d been – or what we’d seen.

Andy’s best friend, also Danny, overdosed. He’d died in the barn. Andy didn't come out very often after that night.

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Added by Edit

The answer to the question of Fact or Fiction? Is here:

https://steemit.com/writing/@michelle.gent/fact-or-fiction-2