The Fine Line Book One Between Worlds Series

by Tracee Ford

  Another loud noise echoed through the house, but it wasn’t thunder. Robin listened as an upstairs door slammed and loud, heavy footsteps walked in the upstairs hallway. Cookie jumped to his feet growling suspiciously. Again, she heard a door slam followed by footsteps. She struggled to remain logical. She hoped Matt had come home early and gone upstairs, careful not to disturb her. Robin thought perhaps he needed a shower and had bypassed the living room altogether.

  “Matt,” she called.

  Still struggling desperately to make sense of the situation, she realized no one, not even Matt, could have gotten past Cookie. Yet she continued calling out Matt’s name. When she received no reply, Robin realized she needed to check things out. Her heart thumping and the adrenaline racing through her veins, she stood and walked to the closet off the parlor. She grabbed the ball bat and slowly started up the stairs. With it tight in her grip and held high, she turned the light on in the hallway as Cookie took the lead. She knew with the ball bat in her hand, she could defend herself, yet still she shivered with fear.

  At the top of the stairs she stood assessing the situation. The doors stood open; nothing seemed moved or out of place. From room to room, she walked through turning on lights and glancing around. It was obvious that no one occupied the upstairs. As her thoughts raced, she questioned her own sanity. The giggling, doors slamming, and now distinct footsteps were just too much. Her mind couldn’t process it. After one last look around the upstairs, she decided she would go back to the family room to shut off the television and the lights. With her back turned, she realized Cookie still stood staring down the hallway toward the bathroom. The stares turned to growls as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. His shoulders low, he shifted into predator mode. Robin watched as he urinated on the hardwood. Then he barked aggressively, baring his teeth.

  Robin abandoned her plan to go back downstairs and turned instead toward the bathroom. Slowly, she walked down the hallway and grabbed toilet paper to clean up Cookie’s accident. Cookie walked around her, still growling and baring his teeth. She bent over and cleaned up the mess and then stood to walk back to the bathroom. Cookie stood defensively in front of her. He refused to let her through.

  “Cookie,” Robin said sharply.

  As she glanced back up, she saw a formless light shoot across the hallway. It took her by surprise. Her body shook. A giggle came from the study and Cookie’s demeanor changed instantly. He relaxed and began wagging his tail with his mouth hanging open.

  Robin walked to the bathroom and tossed the soiled toilet paper into the commode. Continuing with her efforts to get off the second floor of the house, Robin walked toward the banister again. In her left ear she heard,

  “Help us.”

  The hair on her neck and arms stood up as goose bumps covered her body. The breath came shallowly from her lungs. Slowly, she turned; she was still alone with only the dog upstairs. When she looked back toward the small window at the top of the stairs, she saw Cookie sitting, patiently waiting. He calmed, but without warning, he stood again, hair rising on his back and his lips curling over his canines.

  The hair on Robin’s neck stood again as a hopeless feeling washed over her. Unspeakable sadness covered her heart as she felt a cold hand on her arm. Tears fell down Robin’s cheeks and her stomach sank.

  “Help us, please!” the voice called again.

  “I don’t know how.” Robin whispered. She felt the cold hand let go. Collecting herself, she took a deep breath and walked downstairs. As she stood in the hallway, she called for Cookie, who had not followed her.

  “Cookie, come.”

  He didn’t.

  “Cookie, come now!” she shouted.

  Reluctantly, he obeyed.

  After turning off the downstairs lights and the television, Robin reluctantly walked back upstairs with Cookie following closely on her heels. The sleep deprivation overwhelmed her. She put the incidents out of her mind as best she could and crawled under the covers as Cookie settled onto his pillow. She turned off the light on the nightstand and closed her eyes finally finding sleep.

  “Robin, help me please” a voice called out.

  Groggily, Robin remained between consciousness and sleep. Again, she heard the soft voice. “Robin.” Finally, she realized her name was being called and startled awake, her eyes wide open. Looking around the room, she saw nothing unusual. Cookie rested peacefully on the pillow under the window. She grabbed her cell phone from the night stand. The digits read 5:30 a.m.

  It seemed easier to believe the voices she heard came from a dream. Robin settled back under the covers and closed her eyes. As she drifted off she felt a hard tug on her ankle and then a deep male voice said, “You can’t help them!”

  This wasn’t a dream. She knew that. Right away, her eyes opened, and she jerked her foot away as she screamed. Hands shaking and breath shallow, she reached for the light and turned it on. Cookie perked up a little and then drifted right back to sleep. Anxiety turned to fear. In her mind, she wrestled with whether she was sane or not. She found it hard to digest that these events could actually be happening to her.

  As she pondered over the events, knowing her restlessness could solely be blamed on the uneasiness in the house; the feeling that someone watched her and now voices. The tremendous grief and sadness she often felt with no reasonable cause also entered her thoughts..

  Realizing how futile it was to overanalyze everything, she jumped out of bed and made her way down the steps. Matt would be arriving home soon and because she was too tired to go into work, she planned to use a sick day. Without sleep she barely functioned.

  A cup of hot cocoa sounded reasonable as she neared the island in the kitchen. As she walked, the pain in her ankle grew more noticeable. She looked down at it, lifting her cotton pajama pant leg up to reveal the bruises on her skin. The shape she saw sent shudders down her spine as she realized the bruise was the shape of a hand. She felt sick. She felt as if she were going mad and wondered what Matt would think when she told him about the horrific events.

  Cookie sat patiently by the door. Robin walked to the door, opened it, and let the dog outside. The milk began boiling on the stove. When the scream of the kettle ceased, Robin heard heavy footsteps again in the upstairs hallway. Ferocity and terror ran through her body like an electric shock. She put her hands over her ears. Tempted to pull her hair out by the roots, she could no longer be patient. She picked up the phone and texted Matt: “Please come home right now. This cannot wait!”

  Moments later she received a text back: “What’s wrong? Everything okay?”

  She typed as fast as she could: “No! Everything is not okay! Just get home!”

  The ringing landline startled her. She rushed to the phone hanging on the kitchen wall and couldn’t even say hello.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I don’t know if I’m okay Matt. I feel like I’m going crazy.” Her voice trembled and the tone, urgent.

  Robin took pride in her ability to stay grounded and calm in intense situations. She had always been level headed and reasonable, but now, after this, she wondered who she really was.

  Twenty long minutes passed before she heard the truck speed up the lane. The kitchen door slammed. Every light in the house was on.

  Robin sat on the couch with her knees drawn into her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. Not only was she terrified and unsure of her own sanity, but she was embarrassed. She knew she would have to explain everything to her husband, the skeptic, who might put her in an institution and throw away the key. The thought made her shake even harder.

  She felt Matt get closer and the cushion beside her sunk as her perplexed husband took a seat.

  “Baby, tell me what’s happening,” Matt said. She felt his hand on her forehead as he checked for fever.

  She turned her face toward his, blankly staring. “I think I’m losing my mind, Matt.”

  “Why?” he asked with concern in
his voice.

  She said nothing, but simply pulled the blanket away from her legs. Slowly, she lifted the pant leg to reveal the red hand print.

  “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do this,” she said with emptiness in her voice, still gazing vacantly into his face.

  “Then who the hell did?” He paused as anger filled his eyes. “If someone’s hurt you…”

  “Not someone Matthew… something.”

  His mouth gaped open, but no words came out.

  “I can’t even sleep anymore,” she continued, “Tonight someone was in this house. The upstairs doors slammed, I heard footsteps so loud in the hallway upstairs I thought the ceiling would cave in. Cookie, our calm, loveable dog, started growling and he actually pissed himself Matt! It was like he was in attack mode. He was defending himself against a predator.”

  Matt listened as Robin continued.

  “Something touched me and someone talked to me! The voice asked me for help. But, I don’t know how…how to help. Then I got this feeling of pure sadness; grief. I felt like someone died. I couldn’t stop feeling sad. I heard giggling again, someone touched me… I know I’m probably talking in circles, but Matt, I just feel so… so… overwhelmed. The point is, I dismissed it all and went to bed anyway. The next thing I know I’m being awakened by someone saying my name and then something grabbing me. Matt, I know I’m not alone in this house. I’m always being watched. I feel like I’m going insane.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Maybe I have schizophrenia or maybe I’m having a nervous breakdown. I don’t know, but something is happening to me.”

  She cried helplessly as Matt pulled her into his chest.

  “Robin, when you’re sleep deprived,” he began, “strange things start happening to your body. Your body and your brain require rest. If you aren’t getting it, at some point your brain will shut down. It’s very common to have auditory and visual hallucinations, just like you’ve described, with simple sleep deprivation. I think that is exactly what’s happening here. All of these things you’ve just told me about are your body’s way of telling you to shut it down and rest. I truly believe that. You’re the sanest person I know.”

  “How do you explain the bruises on my ankle?” she asked.

  “Maybe you hit it on the wooden bedpost when you got out of bed. You’re probably so exhausted you didn’t even realize it happened.”

  “I’m begging you,” she said looking up at him, “please, see if you can get off nights. I want you here with me. I can’t spend another night alone in this house! I promised I’d never ask this of you, but I’m really scared. I don’t know what else to do. You told me once that you would switch if you had to. Please. Matt, I can’t be here alone at night anymore. I love this house and I don’t want to leave it, but if these things keep happening, I won’t stay. I just won’t,” she cried.

  She felt his hands stroke her hair as he pulled her back into his chest.

  “It’s going to be okay baby. I promise. I’ll work it all out.”

  “I am not spending another night alone in this house. If I have to, I’ll go to a hotel.”

  “Listen to me,” he said as he pulled away from her and looked deeply into her tired eyes, “Why don’t you spend the day at Wendy’s?”

  Before he could finish she shook her head. “No. I want you here. I need you, Matt.”

  “Okay, okay.” He got up and walked to the basement. A few moments later he emerged. “It’s all taken care of. I start day shift next week. I also took a couple of sick days,” he concluded.

  Robin saw his insecurity when she looked in his eyes. It was obvious he was contemplating everything she told him.

  “Robin,” he began as he took her hand, “if what’s going on here is something more than sleep deprivation, we’ll deal with it. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  Matt excused himself and left the room again. He walked back into the parlor and stared out the window at the open field. The fog lay thickly, but he saw a woman walking toward the O’Bryan’s. Clearly, it wasn’t Mrs. O’Bryan. The woman, dressed in a long white gown with long sleeves, seemed to glow and it seemed he could see right through her. Rubbing his eyes, he shook his head and walked back to the living room attributing everything to his own lack of sleep.

  On the couch lay Robin, his exhausted wife, already asleep. He picked her up gently and carried her to their bed. He stood watching her sleep for some time, making sure her breaths were even. Frequently, he checked her head making sure she didn’t have a fever. Finally, he too crawled in bed and fell fast asleep as the sun began shining through the panes of glass.

  ****

  Robin heard a woman screaming as she ran down a dark hallway into what she knew was a basement. Bodies littered the room, all young women. Blood ran down the walls and in the middle of the room a pregnant woman lay on a table. Her long, black hair hung off of the table and her face filled with helpless panic as she continued screaming. Two men stood beside her, both of them looking possessed by pure evil.

  The woman looked at Robin who stood still astonished by the scene before her.

  “Help me!” the poor woman screamed. The voice sounded familiar. “They’re going to kill me!”

  Robin’s mouth gaped open, unsure of what to do. Immobilized by horror, she couldn’t move her feet. They felt cemented to the floor.

  “Please!” the woman screamed. “They are going to take my baby!” Her legs spread apart; she continued shouting as she lay with her wrists and ankles bound by straps.

  The men looked up and met Robin’s gaze, their lips curling up in smiles. The taller one held a knife. Robin watched as he shoved the knife under the woman’s gown and into her womb, with the screams piercing the air like the knife that now found its sheath in her body. The sound deafened Robin as she held her ears and yelled at the men to stop hurting the poor woman.

  “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! You’re killing her! Stop it you monsters!”

  She felt her body shaking and she heard her name.

  “Robin, honey, wake up,” the voice said.

  Quickly, Robin sat up in bed screaming and her eyes opened. Matt sat beside her on the bed with confusion written all over his face. Her eyes turned toward him as they stung with tears.

  “Robin, are you okay?” he asked. She held her hand to her heart as she desperately tried to resume normal breathing. Relief swept over her as she realized she was safe in her bed.

  “Ye… Yes, I’m fine. It was a dream,” she sighed. “It was just a dream.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “No. I just want to forget about it,” she answered, her hands still clenched in fists. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

  “I was in the basement when I heard you screaming,” he replied.

  “I was that loud?”

  “I thought something had happened to you. When I walked in you were sound asleep just screaming.”

  She shook her head. “What time is it?”

  “You’ve been asleep all day.”

  She felt the touch of his hand on her forehead again.

  “I just wonder if you’re not catching something,” he said suspiciously.

  She grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand to see that the time was 5:00 in the evening. Truly, she slept the entire day away, which disappointed her.

  “I’ll make some soup,” Matt offered thoughtfully. “Maybe that will make you feel better.”

  Chapter Six

  Logic

  As time went by, Robin pushed the horrendous dream and the events of that stormy night deep into her mind. But, no matter how deeply she tried to bury everything, the dream haunted her. Her life’s work had been built around helping people in need or in trouble. Reflecting on the scenario in the dream, she began dealing with feelings of hopelessness and helplessness far beyond anything she had ever experienced before. The guilt felt unbearable at times. She also couldn’t shake the idea that the dream had a deeper meanin
g; that there was a purpose to the dream or perhaps a connection to the house.

  Robin turned twenty-seven.

  May came with beautiful flowers around the property, continuous yard work, days of mowing grass, and evenings of cool breezes blowing through open windows. A year ago she met the love of her life. It was hard to think that a year passed so quickly.

  Swinging on the porch, Robin let the gentle wind quiet her spirit. She heard the screen door open and from the corner of her eye, she saw Matt walk out. He sat beside her on the swing and looked over at her.

  “Everyone will be here soon.”

  “I know. I need to get dressed,” she replied as she stood.

  When she opened the door, she saw a large glass vase filled with roses sitting on the kitchen island. Her cheeks blushed pink and her heart skipped with excitement. She walked to the flowers, sniffed them, and noticed an envelope dangling off of a stem. Handwritten on the front was: My lover. She pulled the cardstock from the envelope and read what was written: To celebrate the month we met and the birth of the most wonderful woman ever put on the planet. Love you always, Matt. Tears welled in her eyes.

  She felt him behind her as his arms wrapped around her waist.

  “They’re beautiful,” she said sweetly.

  “Not as beautiful as you.”

  She turned to him with a warm grin.

  “Thank you. Your gift is waiting upstairs.”

  “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he protested. “Remember, we’re celebrating your birthday tonight?”

  “Yes, that’s true, but as you pointed out in your card, we’ve been in one another’s lives for an entire year. That’s something to celebrate, too.” She took his hand in hers and pulled him along behind her through the hallway and up the stairs to the master bedroom.

  Lying on the bed was a rectangular box. Matt walked to it as Robin stood watching anxiously. As he sat on the bed, he took the box into his grip and ripped the ribbon off. Tossing the lid to the floor he unfolded the white tissue paper. The expression on his face was priceless. “I’m really confused,” he said sadly.