The Phantom Of Bosheen Lane By Mai Venn Poem by Mai Murphy Venn

The Phantom of Bosheen Lane
10.15 p.m. On a Tuesday evening in May 1997
There is a nip of coldness in the air and the sky looked creepy as dark clouds rushing by covering the full moon.
In the far off distance, a solitary dog keens slowly in the background.
We enter the Bosheen lane and walking down fast but then I felted a weight on my shoulder.
I looked across at Edwin
I ask if he felt anything strange.
"No, why is there something wrong? " He replied.
I said,
"Would you look back at the lane and tell me if you see anything? "
He did
"I can't see anyone" he replied
"Are you sure", I enquired?
"Yes if I saw something I would tell you".

He knew I felt something mysterious, he could read me like a book.I pluck up the courage to look back and the fact I am practical blind, made no difference when it came to me seeing things that no one else could. Edwin had been through this before, many times and he was well used to me by now and had learned to accept it.
No, I am mad, just a little odd perhaps for I am one of those who predict things before they happen and I see ghost and the like but there are many of us,

When I did look back at the lane I could not believe my eyes for there, about four feet behind us was a mass of black moving, twisting, floating, and changing shapes slowly creeping down the lane.This was something I never experienced before and I was so afraid for I felt it was following Edwin or me and it would soon be upon us.

Less then an hour ago, we were in mass with our daughter Florence. It was her secondary school end of the year mass, as she was heading off to university in September pending on her results of the Leaving Cert.It was a happy occasionFlorence did the liturgical dance during services for she had been a dancer since she, was three years old and a group of her friends who were dancers decided to do this with help from some of the teachers.

I was after having our last child only some months before and I was very worried about him as he was sick and was in and out of the hospital a lot.We had one of the older children mind the baby while we were at the mass.Both Edwin and I had received Holy Communion in the ceremony and this was a very important factor in the story of Bosheen Lane.

To get back to what was happening.
We came to the end of the lane and the dark shadow was still behind us.I had started to say the Lord's Prayer and as I said "and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil", I really meant evil as that was what I felt all around us on the May night.

I dare not look back as we crossed over from the lane to outside of the gate of the convent and quickly headed down Mary Street, passing the little shop, I paused and both of us looked back.I could still see the black mass of energy but it stopped as if there was a strong barrier preventing it from crossing over.I still felt afraid but I knew that there was something there that cannot be explainedI believe that faith saved us that night and if anything had to have happened to me I was free from sin and I had received holy communion shortly before.

At the end of the Bosheen lane was a small pole in the middle of the entrance to prevent cars from coming up or down.The wall of the Mount Carmel Convent was adjoining to the wall of the lane and in order to pass down the way, one would have to pass the center of the Mount Carmel entrance gate.

The Mount Carmel was a very holy place and the town's people had great respect for it was a sanctuary in times of trouble.Over its gate was a cross, a symbol of Christ, a symbol to inform people it was a church and that everyone was welcome to come in.People from miles around came to pray and ask for prayers from the nuns.It was a place of worship … a safe haven.


10.45 p. m.
Home safe at last.I held my baby son in my arms, still trembling after my encounter with God knows what.I told the family what happened, then they enquired how was Florence coming home? Shock hits me once more as I wait for the key in the door and Florence to say, "I am a home mother".It was 11.30 when I heard that key and Florence said those magic words, "I am a home mother".

Some years later, I was in a shop browsing over clothes when I heard some woman tell the story as if I told her myself of what happened in Bosheen Lane.I stopped, listened, and waited for her to finish telling her account of what went on.Then I asked her who told you the story?I knew this woman since I was a child she lived near me and I had not told her.I waited for the answer; she said, "I heard this story 25 years ago from an old woman who used to visit her granddaughter when the estate was just new".My story was only a few years ago so it was not mine.It was at this stage I realise that other people had seen what I saw in Bosheen Lane.

Within a month, I heard of a similar story but it was a local boy in a wheelchair who entered the black mass of matter, as he was in it, he could feel his wheelchair shake and tumble, finally firing him out of the chair allowing him to roll down past the barrier and out of danger.

Only last year, while talking to one of the women on the hill where I live, she told me of another case.This was of a middle-aged woman who had to come down the lane one dark night and rambled into this presence unaware of what it was.I have no answer for this story and as one who saw what I saw I am confused to why I was able to see it and Erwin was not.

It was not a ghostly present yet it felt evil.I knew I would never enter that lane again nor would I talk of what I saw in a pub or at a party for I still think of it