Kurt, my husband, said I needed a break. My Mom told me I looked tired and my four sons said I was �grouchy�. I don�t need a brick to fall on my head. I desired some time alone, to recharge my energy. I made reservations at an old plantation next to the winding Mississippi River. Built in 1839, it was still a working plantation with charming Creole cottages as refurbished guest rooms. Mine was candy apple red with green trim. I walked the grounds that night after a wonderful dinner; peace and serenity were my companions. So tired, my eyes half closed, I climbed into a warm bubble bath in a claw footed tub. Then, I noticed the name �Nellie� on the steamy mirror. I was intrigued but exhausted, so I climbed into the feather bed and slept well until two in the morning. I heard a child crying. I looked around but it stopped and I went back to sleep. The next morning, the name was back on the mirror, I wiped it off and over breakfast, I told the owner. He chuckled at my �haunting�. So, I searched and came upon the slave graveyard. I found a worn wooden cross with N. Monroe, the dates showed she was twelve at her death. I picked some wildflowers and prayed that her spirit could rest. The name didn�t appear again. Nellie and I both slept well and I went home a revived woman. |
| Rest in Peace, Nellie |
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