I've made another playlist that requires explanation!
While Cathy and I were talking about our excitement for Halloween (two months is not too early to get pumped....), we started devising plans for playlists. If you are beyond giddy that the season of haunts and candy is rapidly approaching, check out Cathy's new playlist: "Put On Your Costumes." It's full of Halloween-coated happiness!
I, on the other hand, couldn't really figure out what I wanted to do. After much deliberation, I decided on a playlist about ghosts. Then, somehow over the next day, it evolved into an entire story surrounding folklore about the mythical Banshee. I'm not going to pretend I did a ton of research, but I tried to at least go beyond Wikipedia, and found a description on a website called "Your Irish."
Here's a bit of info about the Screaming Banshee of Ireland:
"The first [of many legends] is that she is the ghost of a young woman who was brutally killed and died so horribly that her spirit is left to wander the world, watching her family and loved ones warning them [through an ear-deafening screech] when a violent death is imminent."
According to the website, rather than thinking of the Banshee as an evil hag who drives her victims insane and brings about violent death (which I guess is a common school of thought in the world of folklore), Irish legend favors these ideas about the Banshee:
"The Banshee does not ‘bring’ death but warns that death is near and this gives the family a chance to prepare and it is not necessarily a violent death it may be of a family member that has lived to 106 years of age! She is there as an escort to ensure that the loved one passes safely to the other side."
Somehow, these two descriptions about the Banshee culminated in my brain as a work of fiction.
Also, TW for some violence against women, I'm sorry :/
The subject of this playlist was once a young woman who was brutally murdered in the middle of winter. Because of the emotional trauma of such a violent death, her soul remained on the Earth as a Banshee. At first, she does not realize what she has become. She is uncontrollably transported from home to home, suddenly flooded with an overwhelming sense of dread. The intensity of this emotion causes her to screech at the top of her lungs, for somehow she knows a death is about to occur. Leaving each family stunned, the woman is given no choice but to follow each victim and watch his or her demise. Her task makes itself known; she is to help these souls cross over to the other side.
When these victims perish, she appears to them. Some are relieved that death has finally come after a long, happy life. Some are children, confused at the very concept. The Banshee greets them all uncertainly, and eventually understands that she must explain to them their fate. Only when the victims are assured that someone knows of their death, that they are not just a body rotting with no one to care, do they cross over. This is why the Banshee's task is so vital: she gives the warning.
But she did not receive the same consolation. The Banshee was murdered in the frost of a lonely wood, and though perhaps her family, too, was warned of death's approach, her mutilated body was never found. A funeral was never arranged, for they still held onto a lingering hope that maybe it was still a mistake, maybe she just ran away, maybe she'll be back in a little while. And so, the Banshee is unable to move on with the other spirits. For however brief or lengthy their meeting, the other souls cross over. But she is left on Earth, utterly alone. When she is not giving a warning, she cannot be seen by humans. And even so, her voice only echoes in each home for a moment or two. The Banshee exists only to aid death's victims, and at the end of each encounter, she ends up in isolation.
With the trauma of her own murder still weighing heavily upon her psyche, the constant presence of death makes the Banshee grow cold and pessimistic. Every demise brings flashbacks of her own. Every moment of loneliness becomes maddening. She begins to feel sick with feelings of hatred, isolation, dread, and bitterness. Her appearance no longer resembles the young woman she was. Instead, her eyes have grown hollow and black, her skin has become nothing but a thin sheet over rattling bones, and she has begun to notice that the souls she greets in their transition are increasingly afraid of her.
At first, their frightened reactions serve as comfort. Her demonic exterior makes these victims feel as upset and horrified as she did after her murder. But soon, their tearful eyes and tensing shoulders no longer bring even a small sense of joy. She grows numb to joy's company. And not long after, she grows disturbed by its very presence. She begins to see herself in each person. Their fear and confusion mimics her own. Upon these subtle realizations, rather than forcing her into a deeper depression, her sense of compassion swells. As the Banshee's desire to help grows, her physical and mental state embody a figure of quiet kindess. Though her pain never quite fades, she begins to find solace in her temporary connections with departing souls. She begins to find meaning in aiding others, and easing their anxiety-ridden minds.
Though her human form was tragically murdered before she had accomplished anything, the Banshee finds in death a sense of purpose far greater than any she would have experienced in life.
For the cover art, I edited this beautiful painting by Mark Demsteader.
All of the songs on this playlist are sung by women, as to reflect the character in my story.
The Banshee
- The Ghost Who Walks by Karen Elson
- Okay by Flyleaf
- Every Single Night by Fiona Apple
- Dark Paradise (Cover) by vindicatedmess
- Winter Is All Over You by First Aid Kit
- Touch by Daughter
- Sadness Is A Blessing by Lykke Li
- I'm So Sick (Acoustic) by Flyleaf
- Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin
- About Your Funeral by Soley
- Timshel (Cover) by Kina Grannis and her sisters
- Misguided Ghosts by Paramore
♥ Happy Listening ♥
