Lost Souls Home (Welcome to Mistland)

Lost Souls Home is one of the stories in Welcome to Mistland written by Julie Morley.

Welcome to Mistland: Lost Souls Home
They say the ghost lights are the souls of the abandoned, hurt, and lost – indefinitely stuck in a void of nothingness. Many years ago, ghost pipers would call out to raise these souls with a particular song to send them onto the next stage in their journey. Once their song plays, all the anguish and hurt these have ever known diminishes.

But for hundreds of years, the song has been absent from this forest. Souls have rotted here for what feels like an eternity without the song of the ghost lights. The truth has yet to be revealed behind this phenomenon. Though I could tell you, we’re desperate to discover it.

All my life, I’d heard amazing and enthralling legends and tales concerning the ghost lights and pipers, stressing the importance of respecting the marsh imps with what they refer to as “the gift.” In my past, I’d imagined these tales to be strange and probably blown out of proportion to catch the attention of the other children in Mistland. I’d never imagined I’d actually become one of the souls that needed saving and redemption. Ever since that day, I’ve known the weight of an abandoned soul.

Her hand was so warm. I remember her tight grasp, almost suffocating, as she held onto me so tightly. I’d say the fear of bones shattering should have been holding my mind captive but the sense of protection and motherly love carried on so strong, I did not bear any pain in that moment. This would be the last time she held me.

She was oh so angry, every word dripping with venom and disdain. All as a result of a broken picture frame. No, no, it was far greater than that incident. I had been considered a bit of a rowdy child, desperate to explore everything I possibly could in my surroundings – nothing was safe. It wasn’t a matter of the picture frame. It was a matter of my destructiveness that struck something dark in her. Every imaginable facial feature and sign of friendliness diminished in a heartbeat. Something felt different about this time; I was going to cherish every bit of this memory.

“You piece of filth,” she called to me. “Filthy, filthy, worthless child!” Her voice increased in volume. My ears were ringing. I desperately wanted to return home. “I’ll teach you about respect and responsibility!” Towards the forest we go.

We moved through the brush until we reached a clearing. This clearing found a way to engulf you whole by merely standing in it, as if it had the power to relocate its visitors to some mystical location that was otherworldly. There was an eerie stillness and quiet that scared me about this place. Only the sounds of our breathing remained.

“Close your eyes and count to ten.” She urged. On the count of ten, she was no longer there. I had no idea where we came from inside the forest or the slightest idea as to how to get out. Mother had left me behind and there was no possible way I could survive out here. How could I possibly take care of myself? No place to live, nothing to eat, I’m lost.

I’m just a kid.

An unwanted kid.

Hundreds of years writhing around in my sadness and pain, I’d become one of the many abandoned children of the forest just trying to find their way home. I miss her.

I’m ready to come home now.