Agna

2010, what a strange year. I'm backpacking through Europe, cold, damp and damned lonely. I finally arrived in London and found employment as a barman in a small, Victorian pub, attended by regulars from some of the offices that was surrounding the old pub (if I remember correctly, it was called the Lion's Head or something along that line).

I ended up finding accommodation with two fellow Aussies, but I hardly saw them as they were roadies for a rock band that traveled the UK and Holland (don't ask me the name of the band, I thought they were rubbish when I saw them and have forgotten the name of them) so I stayed in this beautiful old Victorian manor for practically nothing. The building was split up into different apartments. The top floor though was empty so we had the whole building for ourselves (well, I did). No one stayed in the room above for some weird reason. A reason I soon came to find out myself.

My date with destiny came one wet Sunday afternoon. I was by myself (as usual) with a great book (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo), rain tapping at the window like fingers and I had a beer sitting on the floor at my feet. I was really into the book when I thought I heard someone walking up the stairs. I knew the lads were touring through Wales at that moment so I got up, thinking that someone broke in so I went out into the hallway when I caught a glimpse of someone walking up the stairs to the floor above. Remember, I was by myself!

I frowned and followed the person up. One thing that dawned on me and I found rather disturbing was that person, just out of range, was wearing a...wedding dress. A wedding dress, for God's sake? The hell? I quicken my pace but, to my surprise, the person was gone. The whole corridor was dead empty. Just me standing there. I know I was by myself and no way on this earth could someone disappear just like that. I had a strange feeling that she wasn't, well, of this plain.

I didn't tell my flatties when they got back, in case they thought I was on something (other than beer) but each night when I came back from work, I would sense her presence just above my head as if she was watching me from the darkness. I explored the top floor during daylight and found the rooms like any other room, empty but there was one room, a large room that made me feel uneasy. I saw her again, walking up the stairs as if she was heavy with burden or something. I felt sad and not once was I scared.

I finally found out who she was and why she was haunting the building. It was one of the regulars that told me one evening. He knew where I was staying and asked have I seen Agna. I asked who's Agna and he told me this:

"1890 and Agna was soon to be married to a wealthy young man named Martin Proctor. Martin was an up and coming lawyer but he felt that getting married wasn't really his cup of tea. In fact, he was a mandrake (gay) and was in love with his best friend so he and his lover decided to do away with Agna, or Aggie as she was known, so he lured her to a room (the same room where I felt uneasy?) and his boyfriend slammed a heavy hammer into her skull, killing her instantly then stuffed her body into a trunk. The two men vanished and left the trunk somewhere in the attic. Her parents were heart-broken and sold the house, which was going to be her wedding present (the old boy was filthy rich, I believe), then went and lived abroad. Many years later, the house was sold in 1930. The new owner kept seeing this woman in a wedding dress going up the stairs, then vanishing. To this day, the trunk still hasn't being located and I guess Aggie was trying to show where her body is still."

I left after six months and came home. I still wonder about Aggie and wondered if anyone found her trunk and found her so she can lay to rest.