The Bertie Winning Entry 12/13 Category


by Emma Webster


I walked into the hospital room and the smell of a doctor’s office hits me like a wave.

He lays on the bed, hoses and whatnot connected to him.

“Thomas…” His fragile voice calls out to me. I strolled over to him and grab his hand.

“Yes papa?”

He places a smooth stone into my free hand. “This is a brooch. You are their last hope.”

“Who’s last hope?” I asked.

He didn’t answer my question. “Wear it to bed tonight. Where ever you end up, don’t panic. Tell the nearest person that you’re Samuel’s grandson.”

“Where will I end up, Papa?” I ask, but the nurse pushed me back as the heart monitor begins to beep at a faster pace. Before I could get pushed out of the room by my parents, he mouthed “land of the dead.” As the door closed, I could hear the heart monitor flat line.

Land of the dead?

That night, I put off going to bed. What did he mean by land of the dead? But sleep called me and I eventually fell asleep.

The first thing I saw was dead people. No joke. There were white phantoms floating around. Some solemn, others joyful. I felt out of place.

An older woman came up to me. “Who are you?”

“I’m…..” I thought about papa’s last words. “Samuel’s grandson.”

“He’s here?”

“I think so?” I didn’t quite understand what she asked.

“Follow me.” She floated off and I had to run to keep up.

She lead me through a town with electricity and cars. As we sped by, I noticed a coffee shop and a pub.

“Where am I?” I asked the lady. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“The land of the dead. Samuel didn’t tell you that Thomas?”

I never told her my name. “How do you know my name?”

“You don’t recognize your own grandmother?”

She looked at me and I noticed the features that my mom has. Almond shaped eyes. Thin lips. “You died before I was born.”

“That doesn’t mean that I can’t know you.” She stopped in front of a building with no windows and no visible door. But she walked straight through the wall.

“What the…” A hand came out and beckoned me. I grabbed ahold of it and it pulled me into the building. I was in a room. White walls. White floor. Empty except a white chair with a person in it. Papa.

“Thomas! It was a trick!” He hollered at me.

“What?” A pair of handcuffs were placed onto my wrists and I was pushed to the ground. A snicker grew behind me.

“You’re just as dumb as Samuel.”

“What do you want?”

“Lupo wants the Dead Stone. And you brought it right to me.” She snatched it off my chest and walked back through the wall.

“What just happened? And who’s Lupo?” Papa sighed. “Lupo is a mafia boss. He was wrongfully killed and is seeking revenge.”

“On us?” “Yes. Because….”

“What, Papa?”

“I was the one to kill him.”