Thriller: Horror: The Cottage (Mystery Suspense Thrillers) (Haunted Paranormal Short Story)

by Stephen Kingston

  “I am in the living room with Wes, Clara. I swear girl, when are you going to marry this boy? He sure does need fattening up!”

  I blew air out from between my teeth as I sat the boxes down. Wes had gone ahead of me into the living room.

  “Momma, Wes is fine as he is. The man already has more muscles than a body builder. You stop picking on him.” Just act like things are normal I told myself. Maybe they will be if you keep pretending.

  Chapter Two

  I shifted in the bed as I woke up. Something had stirred me from my dreams but I was not sure what. I waited, listening for the sound of one of the girls calling out for me. It had been a long day of keeping Mom in the house once Stella left and trying to keep the girls from pestering her to death.

  They could not understand what was wrong with Grams, though I had tried to explain it in terms a child could understand. When it was time to put them to put Wes and I had both had to answer more questions and wipe away a few tears. Their feelings were hurt because they thought Grams did not care about them but it was not that at all.

  The sound of their sobs had kept me awake for a long time and now I could see I had only been asleep for a few hours from the red numbers of the clock on my nightstand. What had woken me up? I listened for a few more minutes then put my head back down, dismissing the whole thing as a dream.

  Slowly I settled back in, repositioning my head before flipping the pillow to the cool side. Suddenly I became aware that something was wrong in the room. Something was blocking the red light of the clock numbers. The light was not penetrating my eyelids. Something was in the way of the light.

  Which meant something was standing beside me. My still body froze and suddenly I was too afraid to even breathe. Who was blocking the light? An irrational fear took over, despite knowing it was probably one of the girls. But why did the child not speak? Wes was beside of me, Mom was in bed. That left an unknown person.

  I was about to sit up and turn on the light, overcoming my fear as I reminded myself of my children, when a cold delicate hand reached out to touch my arm.

  “He knows where I am.” The words were spoken as the hand touched me and I jumped from the bed, flicking the lamp on beside of the bed.

  “Mom! Oh my God, you scared me Mom! What are you doing?” My voice sounded angry but I was more relieved than anything.

  My mother was standing there, not speaking and her eyes blank.

  “He knows where I am.”

  She then turned around and left the room, heading off in the direction of the stairs. If she was sleep-walking she could fall!

  Wes stirred behind me and I soothed him before heading out to steer Mom back to her bed, guiding her down the stairs. Yeah, I was going to need a nap tomorrow because it was going to not only take me some time to get her settled but to calm myself down from that scare.

  I settled Mom back into her double bed, pulling her quilt up to protect her from the chill of the air conditioner, and watched as she fell back to sleep. What had woken her up? She had had a sleeping pill. I knew because I had gone through her pill box to see what she was taking. I smoothed Mom’s white hair down as she closed her eyes, and her breathing evened out. She was asleep again.

  I was just about to turn the light off when Mom’s eyes popped back open and she spoke once more.

  “He knows where I am.”

  Mom’s eyes then closed and she started to snore once more. I was officially creeped out but dismissed it as the pill or her ailment talking. Tomorrow I would call the doctor and ask him about sleep-walking as a side effect of the medicine. That had to be the problem. She was on so many pills now I was going to go through them all to check for contraindications and duplicates of the same type of medicines.

  I considered going in to the living room to watch television before heading back to bed but decided against it. I had to get the girls up for school so it was back to bed for me. I settled back into the bed, Wes pulling me close as I pulled the cover back up. I snuggled close, loving how warm he felt and wondered if I could wake him for some late-night grown up fun. Then the words my Mom had spoken came back to me.

  Who was the man she spoke of and why was it important that he knew where she was? I was still pondering the question when I finally fell back to sleep, the worry forgotten as exhaustion took over and the day disappeared once more. I would ask her tomorrow, it was better than worrying about it.

  * * *

  “Clara, have you seen my blue shirt? I wanted to wear it for that meeting today.” I heard Wes’s voice call out from the closet. I was in our en suite bathroom, trying to get the girls’ unruly curly hair tamed into something that did not look as though a sheep exploded on their heads.

  With Twilla’s hair gathered in my hand, a comb between my teeth, and Lindy busy pulling the hair-tie out of her hair my patience was a bit thin when I replied.

  “For goodness sake, Wes, it is hanging on the hanger in front of you!” I called out after spitting out the comb into the sink while I finished tying Twilla’s hair up. “Lindy, leave your hair alone.”

  “But it is too tight Mommy, it hurts!” Lindy’s bottom lip protruded and I gave in by pulling on the tie until Lindy’s hair loosened up a little. Her hair did look a little tight.

  “Right, is that better?” I paused for a response. “Good. Now, what do we want for breakfast?”

  “French toast, Mommy!” Twilla cried out.

  “I want gravy and biscuits. With snausage.” Lindy said contrarily, giving her sister a dark look that only sisters could share.

  “It is sausage my darling, and how about a compromise? Cinnamon biscuits and sausage, that way you both have something you wanted?” I had learned to compromise a long time ago. My girls might be twins but sometimes they had their own ideas that did not match at all. Compromise usually kept them happy.

  The girls agreed and we all headed down to the kitchen. I stopped by Mom’s room as we went, seeing that she was still asleep. I herded the girls into the kitchen to begin cooking. Wes would drop them off at school and my first whole day with Mom would begin.

  The girls were waiting for the biscuits to finish cooling when Wes came down the stairs, dressed in a grey suit that matched his eyes well. I held my face up for his kiss and caressed his face as he headed for his cup of coffee and sat down. I put two of the icing covered biscuits on his plate along with some sausage and then prepared the girls' plates.

  “Hi Daddy.” The girls sang in unison. They loved their father dearly.

  “Hello my darlings, how are you this morning?” Wes asked, looking at them with a smile.

  “We are good, Daddy. Who was that man outside of our room last night?” Twilla asked. It was hard for most people to tell the girls apart but Wes and I did not have such difficulties, we knew our babies.

  “What man?” I asked, a bolt of fear surging down my spine.

  “The black man, Mommy. He was all black and he had a funny hat on. He just stood there for hours. Every time I woke up he was there.” Twilla answered.

  “He is Gram’s friend.” Lindy told her sister with a cross look as if Twilla had told a secret.

  “What are you talking about Lindy?” Wes demanded from the girl, his tone cautious but I could tell there was more to that question than was being said. He felt spooked too.

  “The Shadow Man. He came to see us last night.” Lindy said, not looking at Wes as she spoke. She picked at her biscuit, not meeting his gaze as she spoke.

  “Oh, a friend of Gram’s! I understand now!” I said as realization dawned. The girls had an imaginary friend!

  I gave Wes a look over the heads of the girls, waving my hand to let him know it was all fine. I saw him relax once more and go back to his breakfast.

  “Did he say anything to you?” I asked, curious what the girls had obviously cooked up in their heads last night.

  I would almost guarantee one had started a story and the other had added to it, both feeding off of each other until the Shad
ow Man was born.

  “No, but he wants us to play games with him. I do not like his games so I am not going to play!” Twilla said, as though she were actually talking to him. She was the more stubborn of the girls, Lindy usually being more compliant and submissive than Twilla.

  “What kind of games does he want to play?” I asked out of curiosity.

  “I think it is grownup stuff like looking for things and writing stuff down. I do not want to do stuff like that. It is so boring!” Twilla told me as she finished her sausage patty.

  “Well, you do not have to play games you do not want to play girls so tell him to buzz away! Finish up girls, your father has a meeting this morning.” I hurried the girls as I washed up the dishes I had used to cook breakfast.

  The girls finished at the same time as Wes and they all went to wash their hands, my little ducks all in a row. I smiled as I hugged and kissed them all goodbye.

  Wes and I would talk about the girls’ new friend later and I waved to them as the car pulled away from the yard. Taking a deep breath I went into Mom’s room, wanting to keep her on a schedule. I wanted to see how she was today before I made any further plans for the day.

  “You are up!” I cried out as I looked into the room to see Mom up and dressed.

  “Of course I am dear. How are you this morning?” My mother asked, coming over to give me a hug.

  I was a few inches taller than my mother so I bent down to kiss her cheek and hug her back. I smiled down at her as I examined her face for any signs of the confusion from the early morning hours. Her eyes were clear and her face showed a well-rested woman ready for the day. Alzheimer’s disease was generally categorized into three stages, mild, moderate, and severe. Mom was in the mild to moderate range but I knew over time it would get worse.

  She had not wandered off on her own and become lost yet but she would forget where she was going when she was driving and had called me in tears more than once. She often forgot what day it was and sometimes, in the evenings, she would forget who the girls were and mistake them for someone else, even me as a child. This was a symptom often called sun-downing, the confusion and agitation that accompanied Alzheimer’s would become progressively worse as the sun went down and the body became tired. What may have been a lucid cogent individual in the morning could rapidly become a confused and angry person by the time it went dark.

  I would just have to enjoy our days and hope that we could get her through the nights. Mom and I went into the kitchen and we prepared breakfast together, bacon and egg with toast, and then spent the rest of the morning doing word puzzles and she helped me do laundry. We stopped at lunchtime when her nurse and PCA showed up for their introductory meeting.

  “I am Amber, Ms. Betty; can I take your vitals please?” The young, smiling, and pretty young woman who seemed to just vibrate with energy asked. Her light brown hair was pulled back tight away from her face and Mom warmed to her instantly.

  The PCA, Penelope, with copper red hair, freckles, and green eyes, stood back, letting the RN do her job as she watched the woman in action. We sat together and I learned that she would be coming three days a week at first and about the duties she would perform while Amber took Mom’s vital signs.

  “All good here, Ms. Betty!” Amber said as she wrote down the results on a chart. “Any diabetes or heart problems?”

  Mom looked confused for a moment and I quickly jumped in to answer as she lay down on her pillows. Motioning the women to follow me out of the room I replied to Amber.

  “No, not that we know of. She sees a doctor regularly so that is all monitored.” I then remembered we’d had to change her doctor. “Her doctor was up in Statesville so we’ve changed to one down here. That drive was just too long and hard on both of us so I have switched her GP to one closer to the house. Her first visit is later this week.”

  “Right, I will start coordinating with her doctor then so he is informed of how she is progressing. Have you got any questions for me? Any concerns?” Amber asked with a clear expression, not passing judgement and trying to look open. She was a sweet girl; I could see that already from how she had tried to put us both at ease.

  “No, not at the moment. But I am sure I will later.” I hoped the words did not come out sounding like I would soon start harassing her with a barrage of phone calls for questions. “I have done a lot of research so far and I think I am prepared for most things.”

  “Alright. Well, if you do have any questions my email and cell phone number are on the card, feel free to call or text. I will be back around Wednesday to check her once more, if all goes well here. If not, please do call me.” Amber smiled as she left and I turned to Penelope, surprised she was staying.

  “I am scheduled for eight hour shifts so whatever you need me to do, wash her clothes, clean her room or the areas she uses, anything to do with your mother, just let me know. I will even be able to run errands and do shopping for her. I have also been trained to give her medicine and know what all of her medicines are so if anything new comes in that could be bad for her I will know. And I have had other training that should help to make your days easier as well, bathing her, fitting any devices she may need, such as a catheter, doing glucose tests, a lot of things I will be able to do. Just show me what you need doing.” The young woman stared at me expectantly as she stopped talking.

  “Oh, um. Well, she has only just got here so there isn’t much to do. And she is not too bad off just now but I will show you around and give you an idea of what might need doing.” I hadn’t realized the PCA was going to be doing so much and was a bit shocked at the list she had rattled off of things she could do. This really would be a help. “Will you be able to take her to appointments as well?”

  “Yes, of course. Anything that she needs doing, that is what I am here for. Any kind of appointments, errands, all of those are things I can do for her or with her if she is well enough to go out on those days when we run errands.” Penelope said with a smile that was genuine, not just the fake one people sometimes used.

  “Oh my. I think I will go with you to most of these appointments but sometimes I may need to go out on my own for the girls or to do my own shopping. That is such a blessing because it means you can take her when there’s a conflict.” I truly was relieved and suddenly did not feel as overwhelmed. I had tried to hide my worry from Wes and my mother but I had been wondering how I was going to cope.

  “I am here to help her and you by extension, Mrs. Slade. Anything you need you just let me know.”

  “Oh, please, call me Clara. I have a feeling we are going to be working very closely together so we shouldn’t stand on formalities. Have you worked with patients like my mother before?” I was wondering if the young woman knew what she was in store for.

  “Oh yes, twice now. One for a year and another one for three. Both were female as well.” Penelope said with a sad look. I knew that look meant I shouldn’t ask why the cases ended, the obvious conclusion for Alzheimer’s was death, there was no cure or magic pill that made it go away.

  I gained some respect for Penelope with that response; it meant she had become attached to the patients at the least. She would not have expressed any sadness at all if she had not cared for those people. Her sadness was an indication of caring and I hoped it carried over to my mother. I had heard horror stories but Penelope had a look of sweetness and kindness to her that made me trust her. I felt a weight lifting from me as the day carried on and Penelope and I went through a list of things she could do for Mom each day that she worked. I knew I was not alone in this battle anymore.

  Chapter Three

  By the weekend I could see a routine forming with the family. I would get Wes and the girls off to their days then Mom would get up and we’d start our day together. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday Penelope and Amber came and that helped me immensely. Penelope would stay with Mom while I did my own errands and on Friday Penelope went with me as I took Mom to her doctor appointment.

  Mom had o
nly had one more episode of sleep-walking but this time she had woken all of us up screaming as she threw pots and pans at the wall the night before. I had woken up with the first pot that went flying and run down the stairs with Wes. We’d seen Mom, small and frail, looking more so now, especially in her long cotton nightgown, screaming as she threw pots around the room, pulling at her long white hair in between screams. The room was lit only by moonlight but it was enough to see her by.

  “Momma!” I had shouted at her. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “The walls are bleeding, Jenny. He is making the walls bleed. The walls are bleeding, make it stop!” She had pulled at her hair as her eyes darted around frantically, her expression of pure terror. There was nothing on the walls, there was no man, and she was sleep-walking again.

  “Wes, go check on the girls. You get them back to sleep and I will get Momma sorted out.” I had urged him away so I could deal with this on my own.

  “Come on Momma; let’s leave the room if it is so scary. We will just go back to your room.” Sighing as my exhaustion made it feel like I was being pulled down into the floor I took her by her shoulders and guided her back down to her room.

  I had spoken with her doctor about that one incident but he had assured me it probably would not happen again. He said it was probably the move that disturbed her and she should settle down. Well now it was happening again, only it was worse.

  I did not know how long it would take me to get her back to sleep but I hoped it was not going to be too long. Pouring some water from the jug beside her bed, I helped her to swallow some of it before she lay back against her pillows once more and closed her eyes. I stayed in the chair beside of her bed until she had fallen back to sleep, her light snores waking me from my own dozing.

  The rest of my night hadn’t been peaceful after that, my dreams filled with images of bleeding walls and a screaming young woman covered in a thick black sludge that I did not want to examine. I had run from room to room, but could not get away from the walls or the woman.