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THE PORTRAIT AT MANVILLE MANOR

By Jennyjem | Posted: 17 October 2012

Views: 439
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In genre / category Ghost story
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Mr Manville was an accomplished man. After five years of hard labour and work, he finally found hinmself a wealthy bussinessman with a fortune like none other, he built a stunning mansion with many, many rooms. His wife had passed away many years before, his poverty came from so his moral was- forgive, forget and live. Unfortunately, forgetting is not the best of the three. 

Judy Manville was abandoned in an orphanage in London, they knew her father there but knew nothing of what had become of the poor Mr Manville, who couldn't even bring himself to look at his childs face, hiding it from sight, just hours after the child was born, dissapearing into the darkness. Somehow, Judy remembered that night so long ago. The fear that struck her heart. Darkness. Screaming. Rain. For the last two years she had been searching for this man- her father. He hadn't even seen her, nor she him. She knew she was dying from Typhoid Fever, she was only mild when she ran away, but now it was killing her. The only thing thagt kept her alive was the thought of finally seeing the mystery face of her father. Judy struggled 7 miles to the Manor, dying, falling apart, her breathing unbalanced and slowing. Finally, she reached the steps of her fathers house. Weak, tired and hungry, preparing for death as only she could do, she was a brave girl. With such talent. When she sand, even the birds stopped to listen. She wrote stories and poetry, but they had been burnt and now lay as ashes. Such a bright spirited girl, torn at the prospect of meeting a long lost parent, willing to die for them.

Mr Manville was at his office that evening, as he heard the doorbell ring, he asked the maid to get it and send them away, as he was very busy. The maid opened the door to see a scruffy, dirty, filthy girl lying on the doorstep. "Ple-please..." She spluttered, coughing. She held out her hand for help, the maid misunderstood. "Mr Manville has no need for filthy beggers like yourself! Off! Scram, you little rat!" Judy stayed where she was, starting to cry out. Her heart tugged with sorrow as she felt her small chance of living to see her father, slowly slipping away...

She cried out in pain as the mad kicked her in her eye, Judy fell off the steps into the mud below. She started sniffing, giving way to her fever. She closed her eyes, realising she would never see her fathers face. Then, she felt herself slipping away, although she cried put, she was not in pain. She felt like going to sleep. To sleep, to purchase dream. Who would not want to dream?

The next day, a portrait appeared in the hallway of the manor. No one questioned how it came to be there nor did they care, it was just another picture. The picture of a small girl, sunken eyes, silvery gray hair, hollow cheeks, spidery fingers and a single tear on her cheek, her head tilted ever so slightly as if curious, her mouth frozen in a sickly grimace.

Mr Manville left the next day, for America. Another tear appeared on the portrait. Manville Manor became a Hotel for one only. The first visitor was Count Duluar. He was preparing for tea in the hall when he noticed the portrait in the Hall, it was empty. Just a blank screen. Then, he turned around suddenly. There, standing was the girl from the portrait. She walked forward, her head tilted, her hand reached out. Count Duluar was hipnotised by the girls calm, saddening gaze. A tear slid down her cheek.  The Count took her hand. Together, they walked towards the portrait. Another portrait appeared. As they neared the wall, the Count began to protest but the girls soft hand pulled harder, but softer in a way. They dissapeared into the portraits. A new portrait was in the hall, one of Count Duluar, who was never seen again. The same fate went for the next twenty guests who arrived at the Manor, after that no more came. No more money came in, Mr Manvilles bussiness failed and he returned to the Manor, a poor man. He noticed the portraits in the hall, and admired them. He then heard a small, soft voice in the corner. "I just wanted to see you."

He turned around and saw a small girl standing, hands behind her back.

"Will you come with me?"

Mr Manville looked at her with curiosity. "Where, little one, and who are you?"

"Your daughter." She answered.

"Judy." He said in disbelief.

Then, Judy took her fathers hand and lead him to an empty portrait. Then they entered, they stand there now. Together, Father and Daughter, together at last. Judy left her ghost in this earth as she ascended to heaven, finally at peace.

All articles on this website by Jennyjem are copyright ©Jennyjem and should not be reproduced without the author's prior written consent. All opinions are the opinions of their respective authors and are not necessarily the opinions of The Writers' Circle.

Writer
Jennyjem

Total posts:
64
Roles: Writer
Durban, SOUTH AFRICA
******PLEASE READ!******* I am twelve years old and I am a pretty good writer by a few peoples standards. I'm not sure if I can make it out there in the real world but I'll try! If any adults or published ... (Read more)
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