AN: I am in the process of editing this story (including removing grammatical errors) and the first two chapters are now complete. I apologise for having not updated in a while and I hope you enjoy the story.

Chapter 1

Care-charming sleep thou easer of all woes,

Sister to death, sweetly thyself dispose on this afflicted princess.

Fall like a cloud in Gentle showers.

Give nothing that is loud, or painful to her slumbers;

Easy, light and as a purling stream,

Thou daughter of night, pass by her troubled senses.

Sin her pain, like hollow murmuring wind or silver rain.

Into the princess gently, oh, gently slide,

And kiss her into slumbers like a bride.

(John Fletcher adapted)

Pause just a moment before continuing to read.

Now continue.

You may think it odd of me to ask you to just stop reading and I believe it to be most likely that you did not do as the text required. Don't worry though I can understand how precious that moment may have been to you and how you simply didn't see reason in wasting it. There was however a meaning behind it. You see I was hoping that in that spared moment you would think about the poem and allow it to reach your mind.

Just humour me and read it one more time (or for the first time if you chose to skip it thinking it was relevant).

It's a wonderful poem isn't?

I think so for you see the words, they...they seem to flow so elegantly. There is an undeniable link between them.

Don't you think?

I am a firm believer in the poem and the power it has over the audience. The words it contains can sooth the soul and help a child into a gentle slumber. Minds in pain can also be eased by feeling these words settle the storm within.

I think by now you may be thinking that my view on things is not exactly the average and I would be the first to agree with you. However, if you had the same insight and knowledge of the affect words can have, then I strongly believe that you may understand why.

You may also think me rather rude for I have not yet introduced myself and for that I must apologise. I just wanted to establish your view point a little before getting to know me, as an attempt to estimate how you will be feeling when I reveal myself.

Now I shall properly present myself; my name is Evelance and that is all you will need to call me. My appearance I have some difficulty describing (for I have never seen an image of myself) so I shall allow you to decide. All I can tell you is that my hair flows beside me and sits in loose curls, which seem to keep themselves neat.

My situation, if you like, is typical. This is due to the fact that I have heard so many stories that are similar to mine. Ghost stories I mean. Now don't hold me to it, for I have no confirmation nor facts to prove my idea, but I do believe that I am of a ghostly nature.

I have been consumed in some way by a tired looking, presumably Elizabethan era house. This has been the case for quite some time now or rather I have been here as long as I can remember. I know it may seem odd to you but I have no idea why. I don't think that I am dead though, as most ghosts are said to be. My heart still seems to beat. I do believe though that it must be my own doing for I know of another reason.

Maybe I was dangerous as a human or maybe I did something bad. There must have been some reason and therefore some way to make me like this. If death was not the cause then something else was. This something I believe it to have been powerful, as it has successfully managed to hold me here and without food or nutrition it has kept me alive.

Another detail about me, that I feel you need to know, is that I seem to have acquired something when I became this ghostly form. You see I can reach into a child's mind and speak to them. It's how I know about the affect the poem has on the mind and it seems to be my only way of communication. I guess you could call it a gift but, in the few times I have been close enough to a young mind, it has also felt like a curse. The pain a child feels seems so much stronger than an adults can be and being inside it when the illness has set in can be very painful for me. Sometimes I wonder whether it's better to keep the silence then to enter into the abyss of the mind.

I believe that you have been given enough information for now and I fear that you shall not remember any more if I continue talking about myself. Please don't think me rude, it's just that I find it hard to judge the strength of memory when mine can be so hazy.

There is just one other detail but I think you may have presumed it already. It's the connection that I have with this house. I seem know when it's expecting something or even when it's hurt.

Yes this house can feel some rather human emotions.

I don't mean to worry you but I have been sensing that someone or something is coming. It's hard to tell what it may be but I don't think it is far off arrival.

Listen to that do you hear it?

The walls, they are shivering and sending out an alarm. Hush and Just listen to them murmur. They are full of conversation but why is it getting stronger now? This isn't your doing is it?

Wait a minute.

There's a sound from outside. No it can't be. No one has come up to this house since; well I don't think anyone ever has.

But wait there's that sound again.

It was a sound that I couldn't describe and it rumbled loudly. A strange metal box on wheels approached. It has people inside. Three to be precise.

I watched in disbelief as the box purred into the drive and saw its passengers step out. They appeared to be a young family and I began to feel the house warm as they approached, which made me relax. If the house was happy with this then so was I.

The young girl was the first to touch the great wooden doors of the house. She skipped in eagerly with her long brown hair flowing gracefully beside her. "Come on hurry up" she made a seemingly elegant wave towards her parents.

"Wait honey, your father and I need to check everything is in order first". The women seemed to glow as she approached and it was clear where the child's beauty was from.

Her father though was not an unattractive person and his golden brown eyes were lit up by the light of day. They both walked into the house, being careful around the fragile framework of the doors.

At a glance they seemed to like the house and I hoped that it was on its best behaviour. There didn't seem to be a reason for it to be angry and I could tell the house realised this.

"Honey can you bring in the other bag from the car please", the women fluttered her eyes at her husband and he seemed to waver.

"If I must", he winked at her and went to the thing that transported them here. 'Car' was the name they gave it. I had heard the word mentioned before, just a murmur of it inside a child's mind a year or so ago. It puzzled me the same way it did now.

I decided to ignore the box and looked at the mother with her child, as they stood in the hallway. They weren't exactly surrounded by belongings and in fact they had very little. Maybe they didn't have the need for it. Though they did have plastic boxes on wheels, which they used to store things inside.

It intrigued me. The amount of new items they brought into the house and just as I thought they were finished with the surprises a man arrived in another 'car'. The house cooled slightly, as he stepped inside. "Electrician at your service", the stocky man shook the fathers hand and smiled a crooked smile.

"Ah yes. Hello I'm Adrian. This is my wife Samara and our daughter Tnisha."

The man smiled, "hello there little lady". Tnisha beamed clearly happy for the attention. He then shook the Samara's hand.

Adrian led the man into the kitchen. "We spoke on the phone about the state of the electrics." He laughed a little. "I don't think they have been touched since they were first put in around forty years ago.

Forty years ago. That memory flooded back to me. Someone did come into the house for only about a month. They changed the candles for their 'electricity' but they said the house was "too cold". I don't think that the house liked the 'electricity' but it did give it a wonderful buzz.

The house did allow this man though to make his changes. He was very swift and the house by night fall was full of light. They paid him for his time with a plastic card and he left, allowing the house to relax and warm up once again.

For the next couple of hours the family pondered over the history of the house and the man seemed to know more then I had thought possible. The house, however welcoming of the new gests, still seemed to tense up when they mentioned the prospect of having to move out if the house was not stable. I found it fascinating to watch them going about their modern lives in such an old house. It had for years seemed like just a building to me, but now they brought it to life (if you get what I mean when I say they brought an already alive house even more alive). Just like every other human day though it began to reach its end and as they tucked the young girl into bed I realised that my day was just beginning.