DO NOT OPEN

It is a normal day in West Yorkshire, but not normal down Bunyan Street and even stranger in Persiville cottage. Miss Raven lives there and has lived there for 86 years, since she was born. Now she is a widow to Mr Raven. He died 10 years earlier from a heart attack, well that’s the only explanation the post mortems could come up with. Miss Raven is a very peculiar lady. No one ever sees her. At the front of the house is a little garden but it is really just a dust bowl, next to it however are lush, beautifully presented gardens. Lots of rumors are spread about her. Some people think that she’s died, some think she’s gone away. The neighbours always talk about investigating her house but everyone is too scared to.

         Miss Raven's house is very big with 5 bedrooms, 2 living rooms, a dining room and a very spacious kitchen, which never gets used.

         Today is a Sunday afternoon and people have just stuffed themselves with a lovely roast dinner after church. Miss Raven is sitting there in a big comfy chair (she never leaves that) muttering to herself some form of gibberish. The only thing she holds is a little silver bottle with a screw-on lid, which never leaves her hand.

You see, Miss Raven is not a normal lady at all, most people think she is ‘crazy’, ‘weird’, ‘special’. Yes - she was always very weird, and today is a momentous day for her. In fact, Miss Raven is a witch. And witches can do something so that they can stay alive forever - they can split their soul in half. 

As night is falling now, Miss Raven is getting her stuff out and her murmuring gets louder and louder and then BOOM! The whole house flashes and all the windows shatter. She knows she has to give it to someone. Her nephew Sam, that's it. He always tried to visit her, so she finds his address from one of the many letters he sent her she sends him a letter.

Dear Sam, 

I am so sorry not to have written to you for

a few months. I still needed some time to

grieve over Robert's death. I would so love

to see you again, please send me a date.

Much Love,

Aunt Mathilda

It only took few days for Sam to reply.

Dear Auntie,

It’s great to hear from you again - would

the 19^th of October do?

Love,

Sam

Dear Sam,

Yes, that date would be splendid. Really looking

forward to seeing you again. 

Much Love,

Aunt Mathilda

  

So on the 19^th of October Miss Raven put on her Sunday best and took a 20 minute taxi to Sam’s house. All Miss Raven had in her bag was a pair of rusty keys and in her hand was the little silver bottle.

         Sam had a very modest house covered in pebble dash which made it look very boring. As Miss Raven shuffled up to the front porch and rang the doorbell that was about to fall off, Sam opened the door in an instant with his big round face smiling at her.

“Hello Auntie!”

“Hello dear,” she said with a crooked sneer that very much disturbed Sam.

“Ummm. Yes please do come in.”

         As Miss Raven shuffled into the cosy living room she asked, “How have you got on in life dear?”

“FINE.” (This terrified Miss Raven as Sam thought she was deaf). Sam went quite red once he realized that she actually wasn’t deaf. Sam continued but a little quieter.

“Yes, very well - I just got a new job at the Pitt-Rivers museum.”

“Lovely dear,” said Miss Raven.

“Now Sam here is something for you”. Sam, looking puzzled, was given the silver bottle.

“Go fetch some tea and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Then Sam left the little silver bottle on the table and ran to get some tea. When he came back however, Miss Raven had gone. Only the silver bottle remained on the table.

         Mysteriously, Sam died a few days later. He was found trying to bury a little silver bottle in a forest, with a sealed cap on it and a note saying:

DO NOT OPEN.

By James Ramsden