by Wendy Cole
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Copyright © 2018 by Wendy Cole
All Rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known, hereinafter invented, without express written permission of BLVNP Inc. For more information contact BLVNP Inc. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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DISCLAIMER
This book is a work of FICTION. It is fiction and not to be confused with reality. Neither the author nor the publisher or its associates assume any responsibility for any loss, injury, death or legal consequences resulting from acting on the contents in this book. The author’s opinions are not to be construed as the opinions of the publisher. The material in this book is for entertainment purposes ONLY. Cover image from Shutterstock com.
Praise for A Lovely Nightmare
This book is wonderful and leaves you at the edge of your seat at times. I would definitely recommend this book.
-Hatima Zeita
A masterpiece; utterly exceptional in every way.
A banquet for all the senses engaged in reading. The unique and heartbreakingly beautiful love story of Brady and Amelia puts your faith back in the phrase “Love conquers all”.
There is no arguing with author Wendy Cole’s inventiveness, effervescent style, and hauntingly beautiful storyline.
A must read; has me hooked to paranormal.
-Samreen Khalid
A never-ending ride of chills and thrills!
Wendy Cole sure knows how to keep her readers
on their toes. A definite 10 out of 10!
-Becky Wanner
A Lovely Nightmare
By: Wendy Cole
ISBN: 978-1-64434-011-0
©Wendy Cole 2018
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
EPILOGUE
I dedicate this book to my father, Michael Allen Mansell,
who taught me to find humor in the darkest of corners.
I know the world will never break me, because
I’ll be too busy laughing at it.
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PROLOGUE
Pediatric Mental Health Institute
Redbird Falls, Michigan
March 13, 1993
“Hello, Amelia.” His expression was soft, his movements slow. “I’m Doctor Sam. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions. Do you think that would be okay?” His eyes roamed over the young girl’s face. He’d read over the case files; he’d known about the night terrors, the multiple police visits, but he hadn’t expected a five-year-old to look so . . . worn out. The circles beneath her bloodshot eyes were dark, darker than his own. On top of that, she looked terrified.
“Amelia? Do you think that would be okay? We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about. This is a safe place.”
She eyed the room as if fact-checking his statement. “Okay.” The solitary word came out tired, making her sound more like a soldier fresh out of combat than a child just learning her alphabet.
Dr. Sam reached into his desk drawer and grabbed a piece of paper and some crayons. “Would you like to color me a picture while we talk?”
She nodded robotically as he placed the paper before her.
“I heard about your nightmares. I’d like to help them go away.”
There was no reaction at all from the girl. She just continued to stare blankly at him, no expression apart from exhaustion on her tiny face.
“Do you go to school?”
Nodding, she mumbled, “Yes.”
Dr. Sam sat up straighter, happy to have gotten a verbal response, even if it was only a solitary word. “What grade are you in?”
“Kindergarten.” She grabbed a red crayon but didn’t press it to the paper. Instead, she squeezed it within her small fist, so tightly her knuckles turned white. Dr. Sam watched the action closely before taking note of it.
“Do you like school, Amelia?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What’s your favorite thing about school?”
Amelia didn’t understand why he was asking all of these questions. She wished her mommy would come back. The room she was in was full of toys and books, but for some reason, it all felt strange and foreign to her. Her mommy said that if she answered this man’s questions, she could go back home. “I like it because it’s daytime.”
“Why do you like the daytime, Amelia?” His eyebrows were scrunched up, just like the other people, the teachers, the people who came to see her at home. They always made the same face. Even mommy did it.
“The monster only comes at night.” Her heart beat faster now. She didn’t like talking about the monster. Mommy always told her that the monster wa
sn’t real, but Amelia knew better. Nobody could help her. Nobody believed her.
“You mean the nightmares? Do you dream of a monster?”
Amelia couldn’t answer. She knew better. Whenever she talked about it, things only got worse. Her mother would cry more. The people would come more. She’d have to go to more doctors, answer more questions.
“It’s okay, Amelia,” he said in that same soft voice they always used. She knew he was trying not to scare her, like when she played with the puppy from across the street. They talked to her the same way she’d called to JoJo.
“I’m here to help make the monster go away.”
Her attention snapped back to him. “Can you do that?”
“I can if you answer all of my questions honestly.”
She leaned forward and set the red crayon back down
“Don’t you want to color?” he asked.
“No. I want to make the monster go away.”
“Can you color the monster so that I know what it looks like?”
“I’ve never seen the monster. It hides.” Rubbing her tired eyes, Amelia waited for his next question.
“You mean in your nightmares? It hides?”
“It’s not in a nightmare. The monster wakes me up.”
Dr. Sam scribbled more words on his notepad before turning his attention back to Amelia. “How does the monster wake you up?”
“It’s noisy, and it throws things at me. My dolls move around the room,” Amelia paused, then continued on in a whisper, “I can hear it breathing.”
“Does the monster speak? Does it ever say anything to you?”
“Sometimes.”
“What kinds of things does the monster say?” he asked.
“It asks me to play, but it never really wants to play. It just wants to scare me.” Amelia sucked in a shaky breath. Her chest was feeling tight again.
Dr. Sam, noticing her reaction, got up from his chair and walked around to kneel so he was eye level with her.
“Does the monster ever say anything else?” he asked gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“He says I belong to him.”
The doctor stood and walked over to write more notes. Never in his ten years of experience had he seen a case as severe as this one, and usually, cases had been through a few hands before they ever hit his desk. “Are you awake when these things happen, Amelia,” he asked, making sure to keep the unease he felt out of his voice.
“I try to go to sleep, but the monster won’t let me.”
“Does the monster ever hurt you?” he asked, still writing.
“No.” She paused. “Can you make the monster go away?”
“That’s what I plan to do.” He offered her a small smile. “Are you ready to see your mommy?”
Amelia nodded, and for the first time since the session started, she smiled back at him.
“Wait here one moment, sweetie. I’ll go get her for you.”
Amelia watched as the doctor left the room, hope bubbling up in her chest.
When her mommy finally came in, she had tears on her cheeks. “Mommy, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“It’s nothing baby. Mommy’s fine.” Her mother smiled, but Amelia knew it wasn’t a real one. She could always tell the difference between a real smile, and her mommy’s fake ones. The real ones didn’t happen very often.
“Don’t be sad, Mommy. Dr. Sam is going to make the monster go away.”
The smile wobbled as she pulled Amelia into a hug. “I know baby. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Can we go home now?” Amelia’s muffled voice echoed out from the folds of her mother’s blouse. She was excited, to sleep, to go to bed without fear.
“We can,” her mother said, her voice shaky. “Let’s do that.”
***
Magic pills. That’s what her mommy called them. They were what the doctor gave to help make the monster go away. They were small, white, and hard to swallow. Amelia didn’t like them, and she didn’t think they would work.
When her mother tucked her in, Amelia had been confused. She’d expected the doctor to come, dressed like a knight and carrying a sword. She’d expected him to scare the monster away. The magic pills looked like candy, and she didn’t think candy would scare anyone, least of all the monster.
Despite this, she’d smiled, bid her mommy good night, and hadn’t even argued about the light being turned off. Her mother had smiled, a real one, just before she left her room, and for that, Amelia was happy.
***
Sometime later, Amelia was awoken by a loud bang. Her eyes flew open wide, scanning the surroundings. Her heart was thundering so loud, she could feel the pulse inside her ears.
The room was dark, and she strained to listen for any sound. She’d answered the doctor’s questions. She’d taken the pills. Amelia hoped, with every bone in her small, terrified body, that the noise was something normal.
She kept herself perfectly still, her breath shallow, waiting for the same thing to happen night, after night, after night, after night. Waiting for the monster to arrive; for him to start his game.
She waited so long, her chest hurt. She needed to breathe freely, but the noise would distract her. Her eyes burned from the fight to leave them open. She needed to blink, but then she might miss something, something important. She continued to wait, paralyzed in a state of fear.
Nothing happened.
She took a deep breath. Blissfully, she closed her burning eyes. There was nothing. It was okay. It wasn’t the monster this time. Her mommy had been right. The doctor had been right.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
Amelia jerked violently, barely containing the scream that threatened to rip past her lungs. Silent tears immediately began to pour from her eyes. The doctor was wrong. Nobody could make the monster go away. Nobody could help her, nobody.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
Her whole body shook. Using the only defense she had, she balled herself up as small as she could, shutting her eyes tightly.
Silence. Long and heavy. It filled the space, more ominous than any noise, and the waiting began again. Terrifying. Muscles aching from their tense position. Ready, but not ready. Never ready. The same thing, night, after night, after night, but never ready.
The minutes ticked by at a glacial speed. Nothing. More silence.
Slowly, Amelia sat up and searched her surroundings once again. Everything was eerily still as if time itself was stopped, frozen, never again to release her from the terror that was once her bedroom.
Keeping her movements slow and mechanical, she soundlessly worked her way out of bed. It was an agonizing process, but she wanted her mommy, and she was too afraid to yell out for fear that the monster would hear her. She was too afraid to disturb the silence, for fear of what would happen if she did.
By the time she actually got both feet to the floor, a fine sheen of sweat glistened across her forehead. Tiptoeing, one step at a time, she worked her way towards the door.
Click.
Her small body froze, ramrod straight. Wide eyes locked onto the closet door. Her heart was in her throat, still beating wildly, choking her.
The doorknob slowly began to turn.
Tears pooled in her eyes, fogging her vision. Furiously, she lifted her tiny fist and fought to wipe them away. She needed to see. She needed to be alert. She needed to…
A loud creaking noise cut off her thoughts. It echoed through the silence like a bomb set off in a canyon.
The door slowly swung outwards. She could hear the breathing again, raspy and deep. It was real. She knew it was real.
In her mind, she envisioned herself, running for the door, making it out, reaching her mother’s room. Her muscles tensed, her body poised, readying itself to make the leap to escape. Her left foot started, moving the slightest of fragments, barely at all, then froze.
Red dots, small and glowing like the embers of a fire, floated within the darkness. Amelia strained
her eyes, staring, unable to do anything else.
The red dots grew brighter, more vivid. Amelia had never seen them before. She was frightened of the change, of what these new red dots could be.
Then… they blinked.
Eyes. They were eyes, and no sooner had she figured it out than a form began to materialize around them. Black. Nothing but an outline, but still there. The monster.
A violent scream ripped out of her throat, lungs burning from the effort.
In response, the closet door slammed shut, shaking the walls. A photo fell to the floor with a crash, glass shattering, glittering like jewels against the hard wood.
The screaming never ceased, her throat feeling as if it would bleed. She scrambled backward, stumbling over her own feet, falling into a terrified heap onto the floor. Her mother flew into the room in a panic. She found Amelia, and immediately lifted her up, gripping her tightly, one hand on the back of the girl’s head, another supporting her weight.
Shushing noises left her lips. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” she murmured. Her heart was pounding and hands were shaking with adrenaline.
The girl’s screams dulled to whimpers. Then, whimpers turned to silent sniffles. When she’d finally calmed enough, her mother asked, “What happened, baby?”
“I saw it, Mommy! It was in my closet.” She began to sob again.
“I’ll go check.” Her mother offered, slowly lowering the girl to the floor.
“No! Mommy, don’t open the door!” Amelia begged. It was in there. She’d actually seen it. She wanted to leave. Leave the room. Leave the house. Leave this place and go far away. Go so far, the monster couldn’t find her again.
“Amelia! It’s okay! I promise. You stay over here, and I’ll go check.” She gave the girl a stern look.
