The Healing Mist

In relocating to the Scottish borderlands, I found a very inexpensive home listed in the papers. I called the listing agent and agreed to see the property. The agent and I showed up at the property, she opened the house and stayed outside while I walked in, exploring every room and hallway. Finding the light switches easily, I turned on the lights in each room, then turned them off as I left. One particular room with a bay window seat caught my eye. “This would be perfect for my writing room,” I said to myself. The lights went out for 5 seconds. When they turned back on, there was a note stuck to my window. It said one word, "RUN."

I turn around and looked as to what might be the cause of the note, seeing nothing, but hearing creaking noises, I decide to run, out of the room, down the hallway and past a misty ‘something’ hovering in a doorway. I continue to run out the front door, turning to see if anything is following me, only to find that the misty “something” is following and closing in on me. The agent is nowhere in sight. I run harder, zigzagging through the woods, trying to escape it. The Mist - as I now call it, sees my course changes and follows, right through the trees. I continue running, over the nearby boulders, over the large logs, becoming increasingly tired.

I keep running, checking behind me and by not watching where I am going, I fall into a pit of some kind, landing on bones of animals. I try to stand up and a great pain stabs through my leg, it’s been cut. I tear a part of my shirttail off and use it as a bandage, tying it around my leg at the cut. I get up carefully, balancing on my good leg and feel along the sides of the pit, it’s dirt, with little rocks. I find a spoon like bone and start to dig steps into the walls. Little by little I

carve out the dirt and the steps. After a good while, what seemed like hours, I finally broke through the surface and climbed out carefully, looking around to see if anything is waiting for me. Far in the distance I see what looks like the Mist hovering. I try to quietly and carefully make my way away from it. I keep checking behind me to see if it’s seen me and is coming after me. I make it a far distance away and then a branch snaps under my foot. I freeze in place and slowly turn to check and see if the Mist has heard it, if it’s able to hear.

It has heard me, somehow and is following. I scramble to my feet, moving as quickly as I can, but of course, being disabled, the Mist catches up to me. It moves in front of me and hovers, stopping me. “No!” I say, “Please don’t hurt me.” Before my eyes, the Mist forms the shape of a human gypsy female, not speaking, but using her hand movements, she motions for me to sit down on the nearby boulder. I hobble over to the boulder, sit down and elevate my leg beside me. The Mist requests that I remove the makeshift bandage, carefully, I untie it and expose the coagulating 6 inch wound. I carefully pull the remnants of cloth out of the wound and the Mist moves closer, reaching a “hand” towards my leg. I hold my breath as her “hand” hovers over my leg for a moment. I cringe and the “hand” moves closer to my skin, I feel a tingling and the wound seems to be sealing itself back up, the pain goes away. I look to the Mist in awe, “Thank you,” I say. She moves her hand back and lowers her head, then motions for me to follow. I now know that this is not a malevolent being, but the spirit of a gypsy healer. She moves with such grace over the ground and keeps looking back to see if I’m following. I speed up to walk beside her, my mind racing with so many questions. Who is she? Where does she come from? Why is she still here and not moved on? We come to a waterfall with a small pool at the bottom, she motions for me to rinse off my leg. I carefully make my way down to the small pool, sitting

down on a flat rock and scoop the water in my hand and rinse off my wounded but healed leg. I look at the Mist and she is standing nearby, pointing to a plant, which I recognize as willow, a pain reliever, and cowslip as well as mushrooms and chamomile. I now understand why she has helped me, I am an herbalist as well. Kindred spirits, with one being an actual spirit. There is much I can learn from her. “I have so many questions, can you, will you answer them?” I ask her. She nods slowly and we walk back to the house with her showing me the plants along the way, which I pick and carry along. It’s almost an unspoken conversation about plants, mixed with a verbal conversation. “Who are you or rather, what is your name?” I inquire. She points to the chamomile plant in my hand, “Chamomile” I say, she move her hands as if cutting something in half. “Cami?” I ask and she nods her head slowly. “Are you a gypsy healer?” Alluding to what she seemed to be wearing and she nods again. “How long have you been here and not moved on?” She shakes her head, not wanting to answer. “Is there something keeping you here?” I ask and she nods and points towards the house. I look at the house, which seems to have a grey hue hanging over it. I look at her curiously, “Something in the house is keeping you here?” She nods again and moves into the house, I follow her in the house and down into the basement, turning on the light switch before descending the stairs. When I reach the bottom, I gasp as there is a skeleton leaning against one of the posts holding up the house, she points towards it. “Is that you?” I inquire and she nods and bows her head. She raises her head and moves toward me, arms extended, I hold my arms out and her mist envelopes my arms, it’s a form of communication, more of feelings than of words. All becomes clear to me then, she was a gypsy healer, held captive in the basement by someone who became enamoured with her and there she died, but spoke a curse upon the house as she died that she would haunt whoever lives there until a

kindred spirit came to the home. I got the feeling she would like a proper burial in order to help her move on. “I will help you with a proper burial.” I said and she smiled beautifully. I went upstairs, searched the closets until I found a set of linen sheets in the closet, and returned to the basement. I lovingly gathered up her bones, cleaned the dirt from decades from them.and laid them in the sheets. I then took the herbs I had picked, placing them gently on her bones for her to hold, and wrapped her with love.

The next night was a full moon, and at Moonrise, I buried her in a little glen behind the house, with Blessings and Love she passed from this world, free at last as I watched her spirit orb float up into the night sky.