"Where is my son?" her voice threw forth the words in desperation, the burning pain of grief constricting her vocal chords she now struggled to breath, still she repeated her laboured sounds now cracking with the avalanche of emotion that had built up these last few days "Where is my son?"
She leaned with one hand out against the cold, wet, concrete pillar next to her, panting and shaking, her head turned sharply in his direction as he began laughing, a slow deliberate mocking laugh, it repeated on and on the same slow measured deep sinister laugh.
She felt anger fire its way up from deep inside her belly and frustration brought from her a half strangled cry then once again she screamed at him "Where is my son?"
He remained languidly posing, stretched out along the concrete ledge, one leg lazily swinging over the side and relaxed with his eyes closed. He looked like he should be in a Constable painting, adorning a haystack bathed in late summer sun, a haystalk between his teeth and a straw hat covering his eyes. It made for an unsettling view to see that he was then laid in his summer afternoon haystack way upon a concrete ledge half way up a concrete jungle that in a past time was a multi level car park. Now it was deserted, dilapidated, depressing. No one ever came here, not even the junkies thought this was a safe place to hang out. It had been left to weather the elements and was so desolate that no one would even speak of it.
As he lay relaxing the slow sinister laughter increased in volume. Level upon level of concrete and each layer bending the acoustics of his voice, the repeated demonic laughter slowed and warped and resounded deeply in ever expanding waves, each one shuddered through her brain and she grasped her ears crying out in pain.
She fell in an almost slow motion style as her legs buckled. Her knees smacked the unforgiving concrete floor.Her head bounced in a dull sickening thud as the rest of her crumpled into the concrete and her eyes had already glazed over showing nothing but a glassy stare.
"Mam?" the hopeful voice was soft and belonged to a young lad, he was typical of a son any mum would be proud of, not too tall, a bit skinny, his kind face framed by a mop of brown curly hair, and sadness ringed his eyes.
Her whole being shot to wakeful in a fraction of a second as soon as she heard her sons voice, her voice only emitting half strangled sobs as she grabbed him and hugged him so tight. Some situations are beyond words and this moment was filled with joy and love and both mother and son were elevated by the sheer relief of knowing the other was alive and well.
Without any clear decision, simply natural instinct, they made their way home and the night passed without interuption.
"John?" she said aloud, though it was with hesitation, had it really happened? Did she really find her son alive and well? "John!" this time she shouted and began to scramble from her bed to rush to his room, it had to be true, she had woken up in her bed, she remembered coming home with him, she remembered the relief, the elation that he was alive and he was coming home and, and,
Why wasn't her bedroom door opening? She struggled now angrily jiggling and turning the knob and it wouldn't open. She kicked and thumped the door shouting at it, then stood back and tried to gather her thoughts.
Why am I stuck in here? She thought furiously and she was staring right at the door handle as it began to turn. She stared intently at the knob and her panicked thinking was now veering towards a possible intruder and what could she arm herself with. She looked about her room wildly and could only think of the lamp and tried grasping it.
The door opened slowly. She forgot about grabbing the lamp. There was nothing there.
It took a couple of seconds to actually filter through her poor brain, she had been through a lot and it was getting harder to keep track of what was happening, she looked and looked, not even blinking and her eyes took in the door frame, her mind registered the open door, it was the absence of anything beyond that. The sheer nothingness. Its very hard to actually see nothing, wherever we look in our reality there is something, even if we look to outer space where we are told there is nothing with some planets and stars thrown in, if we try to see the vaccuum between the planets we 'see' blackness.
Thats all she could see now, blackness, it was a very intimidating blackness , it had an endless depth and it was where the landing and the bathroom and the kids bedrooms should be.
The slow deliberate mocking laugh began insidiously, she wasn't aware of how long it had been there, only of how it was gaining in volume, and it wouldn't stop.
"I see shes passed on then" muttered grandad, his morning ritual of tea and toast while reading the local paper meant nanna would nod at appropiate intervals as he relayed the news to her, she used to get annoyed by it many years ago when they first married.
"Who's that then?" nanna asked, her soft yorkshire accent showed genuine interest.
"That Phyllis, you know used to live at the end near the Bakers house. Went mad years ago, she was a right loony she was, remember? Said she used to work for the government all science stuff" he gently shook his head; he was a down to earth man with a distrust for all 'science stuff' as 'things we shouldn't meddle in' he sighed and said "beyond me. Think they stuck her in st lukes, anyway says here she passed quietly during sleep, funeral to be held monday. don't think anyone will go though she didn't have no family"
"I thought she had a son?" nanna said, though her memory was vague, it all seemed such a long time ago.
"Yeah but he went missing, remember? Back in the seventies that was, hung out with a bad lot didn't he, not a good idea that, shame really, he was only thirteen, think thats why she went mad really, she was never the same after that.She always insisted he was still alive you know" answered grandad whilst slurping loudly at his lukewarm tea.
"Must be awful that" muttered nanna, after a thoughtful pause she said "that would be like hell for me, no wonder she went mad, anyone would if they had to live through hell day after day"
thank you for reading
many thanks to @mydivathings for the prompt, please see here https://steemit.com/fiction/@mydivathings/day-244-365-days-of-writing-challenge