Emmy R Bennett

Writer of Paranormal, Mystery and Fantasy.

Stella’s Story

Memories haunt me daily when I think about this time of year. We were on our way to my aunt’s house for Christmas. She had a baby, and I was so excited to see him for the first time. I had picked out the perfect outfit  at the department store in town.

Mother said the fastest way to get to their home was by commuter train to avoid the holiday traffic. It was the first time I rode a train of any kind. The snow that day came down in heavy flakes, and the ground was covered in a sheet of white.

I’ll never forget what ensued: the whistle blew loud, and the train tried to stop. It all happened so fast we didn’t have time to brace ourselves. Metal scraping, people screaming, gift bags falling, bodies flying everywhere, as I too, felt weightless. My first thought… I’m going to die.

Once the train cars rested, and the grinding metal came to a halt, I stayed quietly under a bench for a few minutes –the one bench that still managed to stay intact on the floor. There was glass everywhere and I smelled a fire burning. Dead bodies lying about, at least I assumed they were dead, nobody was moving.

Where are my parents?” My thoughts jumble, as I try to gain insight of my surroundings.

I didn’t see them at first, but when I turned my head, my dead mother’s eyes stared at me. My father hung over one of the car windows. I screamed in horror not knowing what to do. Terror filled my head, and I had to get out of there.

I recall climbing the steep hillside in the frozen snow and remember being amazed I had the strength to reach the top. My hopes were dashed though, witnessing an open field of nothingness. A nothingness of snow, and trees for miles. I knew then, nobody would be coming. At least not for a while. I had to keep moving; my body heat would maintain my warmth: I at least knew that much. I wasn’t going to accept death; it would not win that day.

I looked over the edge to see the mangled train. The wreckage was a clear reminder that I survived at all. It didn’t dawn on me until later –when I was older, and saw the news clippings, ‘No Survivors,’ did I realize I was the only one who survived the crash. My little secret. I remember I walked away without a scratch, except for my torn coat sleeve.

Dazed, I walked the tracks lost, looking for someone who could help, but that too was pointless. When it grew dark, and hope was beginning to fade, I finally gave up, found a well-covered area under a tree and waited. Cold from the freezing temperatures, I laid on the ground to fall asleep for the last time—death was winning.

I don’t know if it was minutes or hours, but someone came, swooped me up in their arms saying, “There, there, child. You’re safe now.”

© 2019 Emmy R. Bennett

2 thoughts on “Stella’s Story

  1. balot2018 says:

    Hmmmm…I wonder if the accident was Madam Moyer’s doing and how she got Stella and brought her to the Manor?

    Love the ending! It’ll make you wonder who could be the good Samaritan?


    1. emmyrbennett says:

      This story will expand when I begin writing Stella’s series.


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.


Writing what I love, loving what I write ✍️

L C Conn


Walking the Blade

The stories of those who walk the fine line between the reality most people know and the supernatural reality on the other side of the blade.

Pmespeak's Blog

Remember! Once warmth was without fire.

Holy Cow I am a Mother of Identical Twins

Actor mom with actor children seeks sanity


Author of "Agency in the Hunger Games"

The 2023 Writing Workshop of San Francisco

Get Your Writing Published: April 14-15, 2023


Privacy news and resources for WordPress

Indie Author Book Expo

Uniting readers, writers, and authors to build better books.

%d bloggers like this: