The Stories That Haunt Us Read Online Free

black. On a black table in the centre of the room, with a large black bow around its middle, there was a long, narrow basket. I wondered what it was used for and later found out it was a death basket. Women’s clothes, including a black dress, coat and hat, were draped over the end of a chair. On the floor in front of the chair was a pair of high button shoes. When I saw what was sitting on the shelf above the chair the hair on my neck stood up. It was a doll, also dressed entirely in black. (There was that feeling again. The doll was watching me with those empty eyes.) There was a silver tray on a round table by the side of the chair. On the tray was a card with writing in black lettering on it. I bent down and read it: “Mourning Room.” I swear I then heard a cackle. I looked up just in time to catch the doll lifting its head. I quickly left the room and didn’t stop until I was outside in the bright and warm sunshine of the living.
    A Helping Hand
    I t was a beautiful morning when Danny set off for a swim at an old dam near Sheet Harbour on Nova Scotia’s South Shore. Instead of meeting up with his buddies as usual, he decided to go by himself, ignoring what everyone said about not swimming alone. Danny wasn’t too worried about it. In fact, he wasn’t worried about much at all. He was a young, strong lad—and the best swimmer on his team.
    The water was cool, but the day was hot, and Danny was feeling refreshed as he swam toward the dam. He was concentrating on his front stroke, going through the exercises in his mind, when suddenly an old woman appeared on a large boulder on the bank. Danny looked at her expectantly. He knew everyone in the village, but he was certain he had never seen this woman before. Something inside told him to keep moving, but he shook it off. What could this harmless old woman possibly do to me? he thought.
    As he came abreast of her, Danny noticed she tilted her head to the side and looked at him quizzically. “Where you off to boy?” said the woman. Danny had the urge to tell her it was none of her business but he thought better of it. He didn’t answer her, and turned to swim away. “I asked you where you off to?” Danny continued to ignore her and quickened his pace. “Don’t be so high and mighty young man. You never know when you may need a helping hand,” she called after him. He turned his head to look at her one last time, but she was gone. He figured she was upset at his insolence and just kept going on her way.
    A few minutes later he reached the old dam. Anxious to sharpen and hone his diving skills, Danny got to it right away. He kept looking around expecting to see the old woman watching him, but he was thoroughly alone. Still, he couldn’t get her out of his mind—she reminded him of someone, but try as he might, he could not place her.
    Danny stood poised at the highest point of the dam. The water was dark but inviting so he took in a deep breath and dove in. Unfortunately, what Danny hit that day was more than just the water: his forehead struck something below the surface. Danny couldn’t move his arms and legs and he fought against losing consciousness. If he did pass out, he would drown for sure. “Yes that’s it, float until the weakness and pain passes,” he told himself. But when he tried to level his body he couldn’t get his legs up. Twice he went under and twice through sheer force of will he got himself back to the surface. He struggled to make it to safety but his strength was waning. Unless there was help or a miracle, he feared he would not make it.
    Suddenly, a hand broke the surface of the water and reached for him. Through hazy eyes, he saw her. It was the old woman. She smiled, “Take my hand, Danny.” How did she know my name? was Danny’s thought as he passed out. Minutes later, he woke up safe and sound on the shore of the river. There was no sign of the