The Bush Chapel
Things have been happening lately. Things that you can’t explain—keys not where you left them, the TV switching on without the remote.
This morning, the curtains in your bedroom were open when you awoke. You know you closed them when you went to bed.
You told yourself that you were coming here because you needed to get out of the house. To clear your head in the fresh Mt Coot-tha air. But somehow, you know that’s not true. The radio changed stations twice in the car as you drove here. Each time, it was to a sad, romantic love song. Something’s been telling you to go to the Bush Chapel. A feeling. A knowledge that you need to do something here.
Your steps were heavy as you walked up the winding dirt path. But now that you’re here, you feel… something else. Hope, perhaps. Hope that a horrible wrong will finally be made right.
It’s beautiful in the chapel; the dappled sunlight on the log pews, the wax stains on the pulpit, the birds chirping merrily in the trees. It reminds you of young love.
And then suddenly the birds stop, and the whole bush falls silent.
And the ghostly image of a girl appears before you.
She is 16 perhaps, and dressed in a tattered white gown that you realize is a wedding dress. The sun shines straight through her.
You step back. “What… what do you want?”
She holds her hands out, as if to a frightened animal. She means you no harm.
“Did you summon me here?” you ask.
She puts her hands on her lips, then shakes her head. She can’t talk. But then she drifts toward you, and stretching out, places a hand against your head.
An image flashes through your mind—there then gone—of a young girl in a pure white wedding dress, standing at the altar. And then something else flashes through your body. A horrible pain, so agonizing you would collapse if hadn’t disappeared as suddenly as it arrived. When you can focus again, the ghost before you is weeping.
She died. On her wedding day.
Suddenly, the chapel takes on a different tone. You notice the tree riddled with dents, like bullets have hit it. And you wonder at such a remote location to get married. Where was the groom?
You know what you have to do. It is time to find the girl’s killer. It is time to bring her peace.
When you nod, the birds start chirping once more. You follow the ghost back down the path. At the bottom, she drifts through the giant yellow gate to the left, and then through the second yellow gate as well, following the path beside the creek. An image of a huge rock, balancing on two others enters your mind. This is your next destination. Follow the path past the stairs and over the cobbled creek crossing, until you see the giant boulder sitting on two more, on your right hand side.
Once you reach your destination, click this link.