The Glowing Pebble
Walking down the road one evening after my accident, I kicked something, almost tripping. Bending over to see what caused the unpleasant feeling in my toe, I saw something that supprised the hell out of me. A glowing object that wasn't there previously.
I know I would have noticed if it were, because it was quite bright and grew more brilliant the more I stared at it. I poked at it with my foot, knocking it a few inches. The glowing stopped.
I bent over to pick it up and it began to pulse. Blinking, with a low thudding sound, simultaneously beginning to grow with each beat. As it grew, the sound started to change from a thud to more of a lub-dub... lub-dub.
Little by little the form changed. The shape, originally that of a pebble, began to look more like a human heart, ever pulsing and growing until it was the size of a closed fist. Suddenly, it to began shudder as if it were having a heart attack. At the same time the shape changed again.
It continued to grow but began to morph into what appeared to be a human female. As "she" grew, her features changed. As they did, I began to get the feeling that I knew her. I stood there motionless, afraid and intrigued at the same time.
Not knowing whether to run or try to help this fledgling, I opted to just watch the transition. As this beautiful woman began to blossom, I knew I knew here from somewhere. The recognition went both ways. She looked at me as though she had known me all my life.
I watched as this once beautiful woman continued to age. She went from baby to teenager to grown woman in a matter of minutes. As this continued, she never said a word. She began to look like my mother, then my grandmother and continued to age eventually turning into a skeleton and falling into a pile of dust.
When it was finally over, I turned and ran as fast as I could, never stopping until I got to my car. I went straight home and never said a word to anyone.
On Alls Hallowed Eve a few years later, as we were exchanging stories around the bonfire, my turn came up to tell of a scary experience. I told everyone the exact tale that I just told you, but someone interrupted me as I neared the end. They asked me what the name of the road was that I had this experience. I told them McCracken Drive by Route 100.
Older members of the family gasped... They asked if I knew how the road got it's name, and I replied no, I had no idea. They explained that it was named for a Civil War Nurse who died in one of the biggest battles in the area. She died trying to help some of the soldiers on that road to get to the hospital when it was shelled with cannon fire.
She was my maternal Great-grandmother.