Unhinged (17 page)

I turn my head to the side and see Brett is
sitting on the bed beside me. He’s so close I can smell his
aftershave mixed with sweat. Normally that combination doesn’t
appeal to me, but on him, it's borderline sexy. He’s a bit out of
breath from carrying me upstairs and his hair, a bit longer in the
front, partly covers one of his eyes as he stares at me. I look up
from his black shirt and when our eyes meet, I’m startled. I
expected concern, but what I see in the depths of those blue eyes
is more desperate and sad. He lifts his hand and gently moves my
hair off my face. Our eyes lock; I can’t move even if I wanted to.
Anticipation like I’ve never experienced before consumes me. I want
to feel him touch me, want to feel alive after experiencing so much
death in Julia’s memory.

I inhale his sweet scent and close my eyes as
his hand approaches my face. For some reason I can’t fathom, the
desire for him to touch me is overwhelming. All I can think is that
I must need him to help me feel something, anything that reminds me
I’m alive. I feel his fingers as they lightly caress the skin on my
forehead; feel my hair tickle me as he moves it to the side. His
fingers are soft as they moves across my skin, leaving behind
little tingling waves of pleasure wherever he touches. My entire
body tenses, waiting for the onslaught of his memories, but I
absorb nothing. Either I’m too tired, or I’m dreaming. Take your
pick.

“So beautiful,” Brett whispers so quietly
that the only proof he said anything at all was the movement of his
lips.

“Hardly,” I respond out of breath myself from
his touch. The world around me is becoming more and more unfocused.
I can’t hold out much longer before blessed oblivion takes, and
hopefully, recharges me. Still, there’s something I have to say to
Brett. I open my eyes and find him staring right back at me. The
longing I see hiding within the depths of his blue eyes moves
me.

“You’re safe now, Brett. I won’t let anything
hurt you,” I declare, repeating the same words he said to me in the
hospital, just a short bit ago.

Brett smiles, his persona once again exuding
sexiness. The more time I spend with him, the more I see why the
other girls fall all over him.

“I know, dark princess. Now sleep. I meant it
when I said I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.”

I smile as I close my eyes and curl up deeper
into my mattress. I feel safe as I let the blessed exhaustion take
over. Yet, before I fall into oblivion, I have a startling
revelation: I actually believe him.

Chapter
Eighteen

~ Gateway To Hell ~

The glass hits the wall with an earth
shattering crash as it breaks into a million pieces. Evidence of
David’s rage is littered all around him in the shape of broken
plates, glasses, picture frames, and bottles. The shattered pieces
mirror his broken mind. He can’t handle much more. The memories
he’s absorbed are taunting him, disintegrating his mind slowly to
prolong his suffering. His fury at Aimee only serves to further
fragment his being. There’s little time left now to complete his
plan for ascension. Aimee’s recent success with Julia was by
design. Nothing has happened that David hadn’t already preordained
and set up like pieces on a chessboard. The only difference is,
Aimee doesn’t realize she’s playing his game.

He left her clues in every memory he inserted
into her friends’ minds, to point to where he needs her to be. But
there’s one problem: it’s taking her too long to arrive at the end.
Apparently, she’s a slow learner, and his mind simply doesn’t have
that kind of time left.

Engorged with rage at his mind’s weaknesses,
and Aimee’s part in that, David picks up a plate and hurls it at
the already chipped and discolored wall. He pictures Aimee’s face
before him. He envisions her dark hair billowing out behind her,
those wretched gloves she always wears, and the black clothing from
which she refuses to stray. He picks up the last plate and throws
it with all his strength at her face. He watches as the pieces
shatter against the hard concrete and imagines it’s her face that
is shattering into a hundred pieces.

He knows what must be done now. He can’t wait
for her anymore. It’s time he sent her a message she can’t miss. A
message only she would understand. Oh yes, he has the perfect clue
in mind. He rubs his hands together, as if bathing them in blood.
Whether Aimee’s ready or not, it’s high time for her story to
end.

Chapter
Nineteen

~ The Monster Beneath Your Bed ~

Mary’s room is cold and stark, just like all
the other hospital rooms in the nut house. The fake flowers sitting
on the small round table by her bed only make the atmosphere more
pathetic.

Mary sits in a chair, staring out the barred
window. Night has fallen, so I’m sure she can’t see anything, but
for some reason it calms her. Dr. Evans and Brett are standing
behind me, patiently waiting for me to begin. It’s been like this
since we arrived a half hour ago.

I had woken up and found Brett sleeping on
the floor next to my bed. I was feeling refreshed and happy, until
I looked at the time and saw that I had slept almost a full twelve
hours. The orange glow in my room signaled it was close to dusk and
we had already lost so much time. I showered, dressed quickly, and
grabbed some food from the fridge. Before I had even half a waffle
down, Brett walked into the kitchen with a wet head and fresh
clothes. How does he do that? He seems prepared for anything.
Shortly thereafter, Brett drove us over to the hospital at
lightning speed so I could start with Mary the minute we arrived.
Brett must have called Dr. Evans because he was waiting for me in
the front lobby, folder ready and lab coat shining.

Now that I’m here and ready to help Mary,
fear renders me immobile. I’m so terrified of what she will see
with me in her mind that the fear leaves me doubting myself and my
ability to do what must be done. And worse, what if in helping her,
I hurt her? In order for me to erase the memory, we have to
experience it. I have no idea what I’ll find in there, but I’m sure
it isn’t good. Chocolate and bunnies don’t make you go crazy. I
hope her mind can handle it better than mine.

I breathe, hoping it will give me courage,
but all it does is fill me with hot air. Typical. I wish I could
tell the guys about the messages I received from David, but
something holds me back. David has hurt so many people already and
I refuse to let either of them become his next victim. It’s clear
he wants me to know that he’s coming for me and that my fate is
intertwined with a house made of light. But that doesn’t really
give me a lot to go on. More than anything, I wish Dejana were here
to help talk me through it. My mind is spinning in so many
different directions, I can’t catch a thought.

Thinking about David doesn’t make me feel
better. It just prolongs the inevitable. I have to go into Mary’s
mind. It’s the only way to save her. I had no problem going into
Logan’s or Dejana’s mind, so I wonder why I’m so scared now. Why
does Dr. Evans insist I start with her?

I look at Mary as she sits by the window. Her
brown eyes are vacant, and her hair is a mess. Her usual pristine
dress, perfect makeup, and impeccable hair have been replaced with
a woman embraced by madness. As I sit here staring at the Mary who
doesn’t look like Mary anymore, I finally understand why I’m so
afraid.

“She’s never been part of my world. Never had
to see the horrible things I’ve absorbed. Through all the darkness
that surrounds me, she’s the one who’s always been my light. She
sees the girl, not the curse. The moment I touch her, that’s all
going to change. She’ll be forced to see me for what I see and
she’ll find out what I really am—a freak.”

Evans and Brett stand behind me silently,
neither willing to confirm nor deny what I just shared. It doesn’t
matter anyway. Nothing they could say would make me feel better. If
I’m going to save her, I’m going to have to show her who I truly
am. I’m going to have to expose her to evil. It just isn’t fair.
But then again, no one ever said it would be.

I hear a shuffling of feet as Brett walks
over to me and places his hand on my shoulder. I’m so overtaken
with emotion it’s all I can do not to touch him back. But somehow,
this simple gesture calms me. I can see what needs to be done and
the negative thoughts simply fall from my mind. All that remains is
a picture of Mary: healthy, happy, and normal. I’m standing beside
her, the sun shining off my hair, and the smile on my face wide and
true. It’s the picture of what I want our life to be. It gives me
hope that once this is over, Mary won’t reject me. She’ll see me as
I want her to, not as the cursed person I really am.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I say as I pull away from
Brett and pull up my chair alongside Mary’s. I remove one of my
gloves and almost lose it when I see my hand shake. I swallow hard,
hoping the fear is swallowed down with it. I look into Mary’s blank
eyes through my hazy ones filled with tears. “Forgive me,” I
whisper as I place my small hand on top of her clammy one and fall
deep down into the depths of gloom, where light can’t pierce, and
hope for a normal life dies within the depths of shadows.

* * * *

A younger Mary sits on a park bench. Her legs
are tucked under her like a proper lady and her long flowery skirt
flows behind her in the breeze. The wind billows around her,
causing the occasional strand of hair to fly in her face, yet her
hands remain folded on her lap. She doesn’t move to straighten her
hair at all. It’s like she doesn’t have a care in the world. She
tilts her head to the side every so often as she observes something
off in the distance.

I tentatively walk up to the washed out green
bench, wanting to talk to her, but I have no idea where to start.
She sits there so patiently, just enjoying the park. This must be a
memory where she’s waiting to meet someone. I approach her
carefully, so I don’t startle her.

“Hey, Mary. Um, can I sit down with you for a
bit?”

She looks over at me, her brown eyes warm and
gentle as they take me in. “Yes, sweetie, of course you can,” she
says as she scoots over a bit and pats the bench next to her.

I sit awkwardly, unsure of myself, and every
move I make while in her memories. I don’t know where to begin, but
as it turns out, I don’t have to. As usual, Mary’s telling me what
to do.

“I’m afraid you won’t be sitting for long,
sweetheart,” she states cryptically, as she continues to stare off
into the distance. Her hair swirls all around her now as the wind
picks up.

“Why is that?” I ask, even though I’m
absolutely sure I don’t want to know the answer.

“Because you have work to do and sitting here
with me just prolongs the inevitable. He’s coming for you and you
have to be ready.”

I sigh, afraid that I will hear that same
damn phrase again. I’m to the point where I wish the bastard would
just come and get me already. “Are you talking about David, or the
Seer?”

For the first time since I entered her
memory, Mary turns to look at me, startled. “Why yes, I am. How did
you know?”

“Lucky guess I suppose. Do you know when he
might be coming for me? It’s fine if you don’t, but it would be
helpful.”

“No, sweetie, sorry, I have no idea. But
that’s not what you need to worry about. The darkness will be here
soon. You have to leave now.”

“I’m not going to leave you alone to face it,
Mary. I won’t do that.”

Mary’s eyes bore into mine. “I will
not
let them hurt you, Aimee. They can do what they want to
me, but they will not hurt my daughter.”

Emotions overwhelm me. So many I can’t even
begin to process them. I had it so wrong. Mary knew all along of my
darkness; she just didn’t care. I am her light, just as much as she
is mine. She’d never turn her back on me, and I’m not about to turn
my back on her. Protectiveness wells up inside me as tears start to
pour down my face. But they aren’t tears of sadness, they’re tears
of gratitude.

“I love you too, Mary, but this is my fight,
not yours. The darkness inside of you was put here because of me. I
don’t know why yet, but I can promise you I’m going to find out.
But first, I need to take this evil from you.”

“No, sweetie. I can’t let you do that. You’ve
been through enough, and I won’t have you sacrificing yourself just
to save me,” Mary says forcefully with uncharacteristic anger.

“Darkness lives inside of me whether I want
it to or not. I’m sorry, but you can’t protect me from that. What
you can do is keep being my mother. That’s what will save me.
You’re the light that can pierce any darkness for me. No matter
what’s out there waiting for me, I can take it. As long as you are
there with me when I wake up.”

Mary’s eyes well up with unshed tears as the
battle between protecting who she loves and ridding herself of
foreign evil, rages within her. Torment of indecision is evident in
her face as her hair whips around her. I look to my right and see
the familiar tornado barreling down upon us. Time is running
out.

“Please, let me take this evil from you. I
promise I can handle it. It’s not just about saving you. Without
you in my life, I’d drown in the darkness, running from things I
could never face alone. But with you, I can do anything. Take my
hand. We can save each other.”

The roar of the tornado fills my ears, but I
don’t look away from Mary for fear that she will flee before I can
touch her. She looks at the tornado, and then at me, trying to
decide what to do. I can feel the wind, but it doesn’t sting my
face. I see the fear in Mary’s eyes. I know that she’s afraid of
whatever is in the tornado. Her agitation is evident by the way her
hands grip each other out of fear. I reach out my hand, palm side
up, stopping just short of touching her stark white fingers. I need
to help her get rid of the fear that accompanies sending your
daughter into pure evil. Mary takes one last look at the tornado
and reaches out her hand, preparing to touch my already
outstretched one.