We Have Always Lived in the Castle

by Shirley Jackson

“But I’m sure they misunderstood the people last night; I’m sure Constance was upset, and I must tell them that nobody meant any harm. Constance, listen to me, please. We want you and Mary Katherine to come to our house until we can decide what to do with you. Everything’s all right, really it is; we’re going to forget all about it.”

“But I want to take them home with me.”

We were going to be very happy, I thought. There were a great many things to do, and a whole new pattern of days to arrange, but I thought we were going to be very happy.

Charles Blackwood

“I am not allowed in Uncle Julian’s room.” She was quiet for a minute, looking at me curiously, and then asked, “Even though Uncle Julian’s gone, Merricat?”

helplessly dead.

“We’re not going to keep coming, you know. There’s a limit to how much friends can take.”

“I want to say I’m sorry. I was wicked last night.” I was still and cold, looking at her and remembering. “I was very wicked,” she said. “I never should have reminded you of why they all died.”

put it in the sugar.” “I know. I knew then.” “You never used sugar.”

“No.” “So I put it in the sugar.” Constance sighed. “Merricat,” she said, “we’ll never talk about it again. Never.” I was chilled, but she smiled at me kindly and it was all right. “I love you, Constance,” I said. “And I love you, my Merricat.”

but perhaps they were actually sent here to look for us, thinly disguised as children.

“They have no faces.” “They have eyes.” “Pretend they are birds. They can’t see us. They don’t know it yet, they don’t want

“Merricat, be serious.

“I am not allowed to touch Uncle Julian’s things.

No; I am not allowed to touch Uncle Julian’s things;

“But you are allowed. I tell you that you are allowed.” “No.”

have I done?” “Constance,” I said, “I love you, Constance.” “Dressed in a tablecloth like a rag doll.” “Constance. We are going to be very happy, Constance.” “Oh, Merricat,” she said, holding me. “Listen to me, Constance. We are going to be very happy.”

“You will be wearing the skins of Uncle Julian; I prefer my tablecloth.”

“Listen,” he said, “I got a chicken here.”

“I got a chicken here. My wife fixed it, roasted it nice, and there’s some cookies and a pie. I

hope you can hear me.”

perhaps they came in darkness not to be recognized, as though each of them wanted to hide from the others, and bringing us food was somehow a shameful thing to do in public.

Once or twice there was a note in the basket: “This is for the dishes,” or “We apologize about the curtains,” or “Sorry for your harp.”

I discovered that I was no longer allowed to go to the creek; Uncle Julian was there, and it was much too far from Constance. I never went farther away than the edge of the woods, and Constance went only as far as the vegetable garden. I was not allowed to bury anything more, nor was I allowed to touch stone.

we heard their voices and they were all strangers, with their wide staring eyes and their evil

open mouths.

They rarely turned squarely to look at our house face to face, but looked from the corners of their eyes or from over a shoulder or through their fingers. “It used to be a lovely old house, I hear,” said the woman sitting on our grass. “I’ve heard that it was quite a local landmark at one time.” “Now it looks like a tomb,” the other woman said. “Shh,” the first woman said, and gestured toward the house with her head.

she was one of the bad ones; I could see her mouth from the side and it was the mouth of a snake.

“They’d hold you down and make you eat candy full of poison; I heard that dozens of bad little boys have gone too near that house and never been seen again. They catch little boys and they—”

“They hate little boys and little girls. The difference is, they eat the little girls.”

“They never come out except at night,” the bad woman said, looking evilly at the children, “and then when it’s dark they go hunting little children.”

Charles Blackwood

She knew now that Charles was a ghost and a demon, one of the strangers.

“Don’t you understand?” Charles had turned away from the door, but his voice still had the little break in it. “I’ve got to see her once more. I was the cause of

it

a...

“Connie,” Charles said, “you don’t know what you’re doing to me; I never deserved to be treated like this. Please, Connie.”

Then Constance laughed, and I laughed, and for a minute I saw Charles in the car turn his head quickly, as though he had heard us laughing, but the car started, and drove off down the driveway, and we held each other in the dark hall and laughed, with the tears running down our cheeks and echoes of our laughter going up the ruined stairway to the sky. “I am so happy,” Constance said at last, gasping. “Merricat, I am so happy.” “I told you that you would like it on the moon.”

In the evenings sometimes we saw movement in the darkness on the lawn, and heard whispers. “Don’t; the ladies might be watching.” “You think they can see in the dark?” “I heard they see everything that goes on.” Then there might be laughter, drifting away into the warm darkness. “They will soon be calling this Lover’s Lane,” Constance said. “After Charles, no doubt.” “The least Charles could have done,” Constance said, considering seriously, “was shoot himself through the head in the driveway.”

That night we found on the doorsill a basket of fresh eggs and a note reading, “He didn’t mean it, please.”

wonder if I could eat a child if I had the chance.” “I doubt if I could cook one,” said Constance. “Poor strangers,” I said. “They have so much to be afraid of.”

Oh, Constance,” I said, “we are so happy.”