A haunting tale for Halloween from Ali Issac
Sabina, an Irish ghost story for Halloween http://www.aliisaacstoryteller.com
My father was not known for his kindliness; the Black Baron, they called him, and with good reason. He couldn’t abide lawlessness, demanded obedience, and ruled with an iron hand.
That grim, grey castle was not the place for a young girl to grow up in. For the most part, I was left alone, save for my poor governess. I was always tricking her with false errands, that I might escape her sharp eyes and those unforgiving walls.
Wandering the shores of my beloved Lough Sheelin, its crystal water bestowing kind kisses upon my toes, the land folding its soft green hills around me like a cloak, the trees bending in obeisance beneath that vast blue arch of sky, whispering their fluttering prayers as I passed by, it was impossible to see the danger.
I was a prize to his enemies, the…
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