The O’Brien Banshee

I would also claim that I heard the Banshee myself. I remember it vividly the night that it happened. My father was with me as well. We’d gone to the shop to get some flour or something for my mother. It was a nice pleasant evening in April. When we left home it was still clear and he finished work at about seven o’clock but we walked to the town about a mile down the road. On the way back it was getting dark but the evening had turned into a lovely night.

I remember quite well when we were coming to this spot at a place called Cassy O’Brien’s and there the both of us stopped at the same time and started looking around. Now I could hear a cat and I presumed he was looking for the same cat. But we couldn’t see any cat. It was like a cat but in another way it wasn’t like a cat. We walked on and as we reached the top of the road we heard more cats crying.

I was eating dolly mixtures that the man in the shop had given to me, about ten dolly mixtures in the bottom of a wee paper bag. I was eating them and listening to these cats as I walked along chatting to my father, but whatever it was, the sound got louder and louder, like a thousand cats wailing together. I dropped the bag of sweets to cover my ears and my father must have been anxious too because he put his hand on my shoulder and ran the rest of the way with me in front of him.

We got home and didn’t mention anything of it to my mother but the next morning we heard that Cassy O’Brien’s aunt who lived a bit over the way had died.
I’ll always believe that it was the Banshee, whatever anybody says to the contrary.



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