Occult Suspense for Mothers Boxset: The Nostalgia Effect by EJ Valson and Mother's by Michelle Read (2 ebooks for one price) (50 page)

BOOK: Occult Suspense for Mothers Boxset: The Nostalgia Effect by EJ Valson and Mother's by Michelle Read (2 ebooks for one price)
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CHAPTER 89

 

 

 

 

When I land I start to panic. It is dark in here. I frantically search the space around me with my hands. I can feel sheets and a mattress. I appear to be in a bed, but where? I slowly reach further out to my side. Will someone be next to me? I fear it will be Joe. I fear it will be anyone but Michael.

 

My hand drops into an empty space. There is nothing there, just air. I reach to my other side. It is the same thing. Wherever I am laying is very small. My breath quickens. I feel claustrophobic.

 

I begin to cry loudly. I’m scared. I don’t know where I am. I am shaking and crying in fear when suddenly a door opens. Startled, I scream. A light silhouettes a figure standing in the doorway. I don’t know who it is.

 

The figure rushes over to my side and I pull away in fear, shutting my eyes and bracing myself to be harmed. Instead, I feel gentle hands brush the top of my head and a voice hushes me soothingly.

 

“It’s OK, Honey,” the voice says in a whisper. It is my mother’s voice.

 

I quickly open my eyes and try to see her face. What am I doing in my mom’s house? How did I get here?

I hear her reach for something and a light clicks on. I gasp when I see her face. She is young. She looks to be in her mid-
thirties. I glance around the room. It is a child’s room. It is
my
childhood room.

 

“What the hell?” I blurt out. My mom’s brow furrows and she looks at me in shock.

 

“Jenni, what did you say?” she asks sternly.

 

I look at her, surprised by her reprimanding tone. I’m starting to panic again. I look around the room and then down at myself in the bed. It is a small bed, and my feet aren’t even reaching the end of it. I look down at my hands. They are the size of a small child’s.

My breathing starts to pick up again.

 

“OK, let’s go get you a drink of water,” my young mother says, noticing my displacement.

 

I hop out of the bed and hesitantly follow her. She makes her way ahead of me as if this is nothing abnormal. I cautiously look around as I step out into the hall. Everything looks just as it did in my childhood home.

The wall colors are the same yellowish beige. The carpet is old green and brown shag. The art on the walls is still the same as I remember. The difference now is that they are higher above me than the last time I remember standing in this hall at the age of fourteen.

 

How did this happen?
I think as I follow her to the kitchen.

 

She leisurely grabs a cup from the cabinet, fills it with water and hands it to me. “Here you go, Sweetie,” she says gently.

 

I gaze up at her, wide-eyed. It’s my mom. It’s my hero. She is so young. She is about the age I was when I was thrown into this nightmare. Her normally grey hair is again a dusty brown. Her skin is smoother and more plump. Her gentle eyes more weary from these stressful times.

Without thinking I lean in and wrap my arms around her.
“Mama,” I say instinctively. I feel instantly safe. She leans over and embraces me back.

 

I don’t know what this means. But I don’t want to think about it right now. I just want to feel the sanctuary of my mother’s arms. Her protection from the world and my circumstances.

 

I feel something wet tickling the back of my ankle. It’s an animal trying to lick me. I giggle and turn around to see our dog standing there. The small cocker spaniel is wagging its tail. “Hi, puppy,” I say as I lean over to pet it. The dog is eager to lick my face. I giggle again and keep petting its soft head as it keeps trying to lick my face and arms.

 

I’m enjoying the reunion between me and a dog I haven’t seen in years until the realization sets in that this is a dog I haven’t seen….ever. This isn’t our dog. We didn’t have a cocker spaniel. Kelly’s family did.

 

My heart lurches. I look around the room that I am standing in. It all appears the same, but something is off. It’s too precise. It’s not lived in. It isn’t real. I turn around to look at my mother. I’m frightened now. I am small and I don’t know if she will hurt me. I don’t know if this woman is really her.

 

“This isn’t our dog,” I whisper.

She lovingly smiles at me.
“You’re right,” she says gently.

I instantly feel my body pull away from me. The same sensations of being pushed and pulled are happening again. Darkness is starting to surround me and I feel like
I’m falling. I reach out to grab hold of something to anchor me, but my arms flail in nothingness.

CHAPTER 90

 

 

 

 

My body plunges into a mass of cold water. I gasp for air. I can’t breathe. I begin to choke. I push hard against the water to come up to the surface. When my head breaks through the surface, I spit out the water from my lungs. I try to slow my breath and breathe normally again as I tread water. I look around quickly to see where I am. I see a small house about twenty yards ahead on the shore. I look up and see the dusky sky above me. There is a small dock to my left. No one else is around.

I begin to swim quickly towards the house. I gasp for more air as I make my way to the grassy shore. I lift myself up and out of the water with my last bit of strength and collapse on the ground when
I’m all the way out.

I look up and focus on the small stars that are beginning to appear in the sky, while I struggle to slow my breath. The air is cooling down and I am beginning to feel cold. I look down and notice that
I’m wearing a swimsuit that I don’t recognize.

 

I look at the house. There is a light on and smoke is coming from the chimney. I cautiously approach the front porch. It looks slightly familiar. As I begin my ascent up the stairs, I notice a car parked in the driveway. The license plates are foreign. They are Swedish.

 

I quickly hurry up the steps to the porch and frantically knock on the door. I think I know where I am now. Seconds later the door opens briskly. It’s Michael. I throw myself at him and cling to him tightly.

“Whoa, Babe, you’re getting me all wet!” he laughs as he hugs me back.

He steps backwards and reaches for a towel hanging on a hook by the door. We must be at his grandparents’ lake cabin. I quickly wrap the towel around myself and then grab him again so forcefully that he is backed into the wall behind him. I kiss him again.

He doesn’t resist and kisses me back. After a moment, I pull away and look at him. It is Michael, older -- the way I left him. I grab the sides of his face and kiss him harder again. He is surprised but gives in. We do this for several minutes until I feel satisfied that I am here, he is here, we are together and it is real.

Then I break away from him and rush to the first mirror I can find, in the hall bathroom. I look older. I look like me. I turn around so I can see my back in the mirror and move my wet hair away from my shoulders. My tattoo is there again. I’m elated. I silently celebrate my return.

“Michael,” I shout,
as I rush out of the bathroom to find him. I want to hold him. I want to hold Stella. I want to hold Olivia. I could cry and laugh with joy all at once.

 

“In here,” he calls from the small kitchen. He is stirring something on the stove.

 

“Where are the kids?” I ask excitedly.

“What kids?” he says nonchalantly.

I’m confused, but realize we might have come without them. “Stella…Olivia,” I say.

Michael stops stirring and looks at me.
“Who?” he asks, confused.

 

My heart drops in my chest. I feel my mouth go dry and my legs weaken. It’s another test.

 

“I’m sorry,” I reply, deflated. “I must have the wrong house.”

 

I turn around to head towards the door, but quickly decide that I want to hold him one last time. When I turn back around he is gone. There is nothing on the stove. There is no one in the room. It is silent.

 

This is all an awful trick. There is nothing real here. He is not real, this is not us, this is not a memory or moment from our life together. We have never even been here together.

 

The floor begins to shake below me. The walls are trembling and pictures are starting to fall and crash to the ground. I stand frozen in the middle of it all, not knowing which way to move to avoid being hurt. I instinctively put my hands over my head and shield myself from my crumbling surroundings.

 

I close my eyes and begin to pray. Then I cry out, “I just want to go home!”

Suddenly thunder and lightning are everywhere. I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to see the storm. I don’t want to feel
the pain of it all any longer.

 

“STOP IT!!!” I scream into the wind that blows in a fury. My body is being forced to sway but I do my best to keep my footing grounded. In an instant everything goes still. The wind, rain, thunder and lightning cease all at once. I breathe hard and try to quiet my sobs.

 

I’m still afraid to open my eyes. I’m afraid to see what may lie before me when I do. What mirage will I see? What illusion will I encounter next? Was it all just an illusion? The life with Michael, the life with Joe...which is real?

I no longer feel wet. I no longer feel cold. There is a soft breeze tickling my ankles and blowing my hair away from my face. I slowly open my eyes, and look down,
and gasp.

 

I see three large pools of spinning water hundreds of feet below me. I am on a ledge. I draw in a deep breath and carefully step back slightly. I look around me. I am surrounded by water. I feel panic building, but I know I must hold still or I will fall.

 

There is no way down from here. There is nowhere to go. I’m in the middle of an ocean on some type of stone pillar. The sun is beaming down upon me. It is as if I am being driven to make a decision. I only have one option.

 

I watch the water that swirls below in each circular void. The speed is increasing. Blue and green waves crash and spin. It’s captivating. It’s beautiful. It’s frightening. It’s inviting. It’s scary. It’s inevitable.
 

I stare
as static images begin to manifest in the depths of each angry whirlpool. They are moving so fast, none of them are clear and I am starting to feel sick with vertigo. I’m supposed to choose one. I know this now, but I am not sure which one. They speed up, faster, faster, faster. Words are now mixing within the images. I cannot read them fast enough to comprehend them. I focus harder, my eyes shift back and forth rapidly, I’m waiting for a sign. I know it will come.

 

I wait. I watch. I see it. I jump.

My body falls at a rapid speed. I can feel the light fabric of my garment blowing angrily against my skin. I keep my eyes tightly shut and brace for the impact. I can’t look,
I’m terrified. I feel the ocean air slap my flesh right before I break through the surface below.

When I hit, e
verything stops. There is no sound, there is no light. I begin a slow descent in a warm body of liquid. It feels more dense than water. I keep holding my breath. Tiny streams of light begin illuminating the darkness like bright stars. I am not afraid. I’m still falling slowly, but I know not where.

 

From the corner of my eye, I see something white floating near me. I carefully reach out to grab it. It almost slips between my fingers. As I pull it closer, I realize it is a photo. It is a picture of Stella and Olivia together. I pull it close to my heart and hang on to it tightly.

Something else catches my eye in the distance. A silver sparkle of light reflects the small rays of light that penetrate the water. I force my body to move towards it. I extend my hand and clasp the tiny object, bringing it in close for inspection. I slowly open my fist. In the palm of my hand lies my wedding ring. I carefully slide it on my ring finger, while still keeping hold of the picture.

 

I note that I don’t feel the need for air as the weight of my body slowly carries me downward into a deeper darkness. Wherever it is I am, I don’t need to breathe. I try to swim, but I can’t. I just keep slowly falling.

 

Something delicately sweeps across my arm. I manage to turn my body around in the dense water. Michael is in front of me, staring deeply into my eyes. We cannot speak to each other. He slowly lifts his hand through the water and gently places it on the side of my face. He simply smiles. I can see it is really him. I can see our story behind his eyes. He gently leans in and places a light kiss upon my lips. I hold on to this moment. I fear it is my last.

I feel my body start to get heavier. I am being pulled forcefully by something beneath me that I cannot see. I try to hang on tight to Michael as I’m being swept away. I begin to panic. I can’t let go! I am scared I will lose him forever.

 

I look pleadingly into his eyes. He remains calm and still smiles softly. It’s as if he cannot see what is happening to me. I’m being pulled harder. I can no longer hang on. I try to scream, to yell for help, but I can’t. I am struggling and I’m losing the fight.

 

I’m yanked farther, deeper and harder downward. There is nothing in my world but darkness and gravity. I no longer feel water or warmth or the need to fight. My head feels heavy, my eyes want to close. I feel…...nothing.

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