A Curse Of Torment

by E A Owen

  For My Dear Friend KC

  I wish life had turned out

  differently for you

  I miss you!

  Table of Contents

  I: Madeline and Mason

  II: Mary, Matthew, Michael and Angel

  III: Eight Years Later (Mary Elizabeth)

  IV: Sixteen Years Later (Elliott)

  V: Natalie

  VI: Trevor

  VII: Julia

  VIII: The Tragedy

  IX: Kentucky

  X: The Coma

  XI: Memories

  XII: The Williams

  XIII: Trevor & Julia

  XIV: The Surprise

  XV: The Baby

  XVI: Five Years Later

  XVII: The Devastating Discovery

  XVIII: The Curse

  PART I

  I

  Madeline and Mason

  As I walk the endless streets among happy families smiling and laughing together, as if there is no care in this world, my tears fall like rain. Life used to be simple. I used to be happy. Now, my reality is full of darkness, anger, guilt, and sadness all whipping around me like a fierce tornado. I can only watch helplessly while everything around me is destroyed.

  ***

  I was a very happy child growing up in Astoria, South Dakota with my parents and three siblings—two brothers and a sister. My brother Matthew, is three years younger than I am. Then there's Michael, and the youngest is Angel, nine years younger than I am.

  According to my mother’s diary, which I read several years after she passed away, my parents were high school sweethearts who grew up in the small town of Lexington, which is just a short distance from Boston, Massachusetts. Both attended Harvard on full scholarships, where my father got his master’s degree in business and my mother a degree in nursing. My father was two years older than my mother. He was a senior and she a sophomore in high school when they first started dating. However, their parents were close friends and lived right down the street from each other, and so, growing up, they had play dates often.

  They considered each other friends and nothing more, and so dated other people in high school. The other relationships never lasted long because both Madeline and Mason realized these relationships were lacking something they just couldn't put their finger on. In fact, they confided in each other about almost everything. They laughed a lot together, in fact, and picked fun at each other, and both realized their other relationships lacked that special connection my parents had. But they were both too shy to make the first move. Just the fear of rejection, or ruining their friendship, was terrifying!

  Finally, my father, after ending his almost six-month relationship with his girlfriend before the summer of his senior year, found the courage to ask my mother on a date. He was nervous and kept playing the conversation in his head over and over again. Afraid she might laugh at the idea, he had never been so nervous in his life. But to his surprise, she agreed without hesitation, and my parents spent every day of that summer together before the new school year started.

  My father, who graduated high school in May of 1948, got accepted at Harvard Business School, which wasn't a long drive at all from Lexington. Madeline and Mason agreed that, as long as their schedules permitted, my mother would drive out to my father’s apartment, which was only half hour away, and spend as many weekends as possible together. My mother, who was only a junior in high school, was afraid they would drift apart with my father away at college. But my father had something very special planned that would convince her otherwise.

  He took a week off from work and they went up to Acadia National Park in Mt. Desert, Maine. They stayed in a small bed and breakfast, and they walked the streets hand in hand and drove all the scenic routes, stopping to enjoy the views whenever possible. They found a secluded area with an amazing view and had a picnic at the top of a hill. They sat under a big maple tree, a beautiful array of wildflowers surrounding them with color and sweet aroma. My father told me that my mother looked beautiful and that he couldn't stop staring at her almost the entire trip. In the meadow, a slight breeze came blowing through her long, golden blonde hair, and my dad just kept thinking how lucky he was to have her in his life.

  As they gazed at the crashing water down below in a hypnotic state, my mother rested her head on his broad shoulder. He whispered in her ear, “I love you, Madeline. Will you marry me?” This caught my mother off guard, and she lifted her head and looked into his bright, blue glistening eyes with the biggest smile on her face he had ever seen. He grabbed the small jewelry box out of the picnic basket that he packed himself. He opened the box slowly and got on one knee, and with a kind, gentle voice said, “Madeline, you are my one and only true love. Will you grow old with me? Will you spend the rest of your life with me? Will you marry me, sweetheart?” The sun was hitting the ring just right, and it was shimmering with the most superb, delicate elegance. Her emerald green eyes met his, and with an unspeakable passion, she said, “I wouldn't want it any other way. I love you, Mason!”

  And their soft lips locked together in the most passionate kiss, longing with desire and love seeping deep into both of them. My parents were very young when my father proposed, but he wanted to prove his undying love for my mother, and prove to her that his love would not change with a little distance between them or just because he was in college.

  After he moved, my father called my mother every night before he went to bed, and they talked about their day and told each other how much they missed and loved each other. My mother visited my father every weekend for the first three months after he moved, but she ended up getting a part-time job and my father had a lot of homework and studying to do and so they decided it was best to wait a few weeks before seeing each other again—but the nightly phone calls continued. They talked about saving money for a down payment on a house, but they also agreed not to get married until they both got their college degrees. They did everything the right way and were very responsible. Neither of them touched drugs, for example, and my father waited until my mother turned twenty-one to drink. They never drank excessively, just socially to celebrate special occasions.

  Shortly before my mother’s 22nd birthday, both my parents graduated with their degrees. My father's degree took two years longer than my mother’s to obtain. Both sets of their parents put together a huge graduation party for them at a local hall and invited lots of friends and family. The hall was decorated with exquisite taste, flowers displayed on every table enveloping the room with the beautiful soft aroma, the floral notes dancing delicately in the air. The tables were set with lavish, crystal dinnerware, and at the head of the room was an enormous table filled with gourmet food catered by a prestigious chef. My grandparents knew how to throw the most extravagant parties around.

  At the end of the party, my father stood at the front of the room and hollered to get everyone’s attention. He announced the exciting news of their expected wedding date after six years of engagement. He then asked his grandparents permission to share the same marriage anniversary with them, since he was very close to them and adored their close relationship. Everyone was ecstatic and congratulated them, and his grandparents, a cute and loving couple even after fifty years of marriage, were honored that they wanted to share their anniversary with them. They were beaming and couldn't wipe the smiles off their faces. My parents were very happy to see their reaction, and knew they made the right decision.

  Both my parents started their new jobs the following week. The two incomes gave them plenty of extra money to save for the down payment on a house, and they spent their weekends looking at new homes. The wedding was going to be fairly small and so not much preparation was needed. Of course, my mother's parents paid for the wedding entirely,
as was tradition. Invitations were sent out, and my mother had her mom's wedding dress fitted just right and picked out the cake and the menu. They hired the same chef that catered for their graduation, and of course, the best of the best photographers around to capture this most memorable moment of the beginning of their life together. The decorations were done by both their mothers, who were more than happy to be involved. They decided on royal blue and silver as the colors for decorating the same hall they had their graduation party in.

  Just six months after graduation, they finally found the perfect house they both loved and could afford. Closing was set the day before the wedding, and they hired a moving company to haul all their belongings from the storage unit to the new house while they were on their honeymoon to Hawaii, which my father's parents paid for as a wedding gift. They used all the money they received as graduation gifts toward new furniture, appliances, and all the other items needed for their new home.

  Everything went smoothly and without headache. It couldn't have gone any better and been less stressful, thanks to all the help from their families. The wedding was on Saturday, May 11, 1954, a perfect day. It was sunny with not a cloud in the sky and 72 degrees. The hall was decorated spectacularly by my father’s mother, a professional interior decorator. It was the perfect day and they had the most memorable honeymoon they could imagine possible.

  When they got back from Hawaii, they drove up to their new home and stood out front holding hands. They gave each other a quick kiss as they smiled in pure excitement, then walked up the stairs onto their wraparound porch. My father pulled out the key to the house and unlocked the door, then picked up my mother in his arms and carried her in through the French doors.

  As he set her down on her feet, they stood there speechless. They walked through the house hand in hand, and when they entered the living room they saw a note on the coffee table. It read: Hope you enjoy your new home. I took the pleasure of arranging all the furniture in each room and decorating the house as my final wedding gift to you both. Love, Mom.

  My mother looked at my father and said, “I can't believe this is all ours!” You couldn't wipe the smile off her face. “It looks more beautiful than I could ever imagine!” My father leaned in and kissed her while dipping her back like you see in the movies. Then he led her to the bedroom and they made love for the first time in their new bed in their new beautiful home.

  A month after the honeymoon, my mother was late on her cycle. She picked up a pregnancy test on the way home from the hospital, where she worked as a Registered Nurse. When she got home, she took the test and waited—it came back positive. This was when they found out they were pregnant with their first child, me, Mary Elizabeth.

  When my father got home from work, my mother had a romantic dinner set with candlelight in the dining room, which included a large dark, cherry wood stained table with six chairs under a chandelier hovering above the center. A large picture window overlooked the fenced-in backyard for privacy. My mother had prepared a nice filet mignon dinner, cooked medium, just the way he liked it, with creamy, garlic mashed potatoes, Szechwan green beans, and Caesar salad.

  When my father arrived home from work, he walked through the door as the wonderful aromas from dinner filled the air. He gave my mom a kiss, and they sat at each end of the table and began eating. They talked about their day, and that’s when my mom couldn't hold back the news any longer and she burst out, “I'm pregnant! We're going to have a baby!”

  He looked up from his plate and noticed she was glowing with a huge grin from ear to ear. “That’s wonderful, darling! It couldn't have come at a better time if we had planned it.” He stood up from his chair, pushed back the seat with the back of his knees and walked over to my mother and gave her passionate kiss. He whispered, “I love you so much, Madeline!” Then he returned to his seat and continued finishing his dinner, looking up periodically at my mother, who was beaming with excitement.

  II

  Mary, Matthew, Michael and Angel

  On March 11, 1955 their first child, a healthy baby girl, was born. Mary Elizabeth Walker, according to my mother’s diary, was the most beautiful baby they had ever seen. She was born with a head full of dark hair and big bright, blue eyes and a tiny little nose and rosy red cheeks. She was the perfect baby, very precious and delicate. My mother said she never knew she could love someone so much the first time she saw me. Over the next few months, Mom and Dad were discussing how they didn't think Massachusetts was the best place to raise a family. They never thought in a million years they would move away from family and friends, but to them it was just not the right place, now that they had a new addition to the family who had changed their entire perspective of the world.

  They researched and discussed where they thought would be best for their family and careers. They put the house up for sale right after my first birthday, knowing the house could possibly sit on the market for years before it sold. They loved the house, but they knew they could find the perfect home anywhere their hearts desired. After six months of people coming in and out of our house interested in buying it they finally got an offer. They couldn't refuse and had to get serious about moving, because they had about three months for all the paperwork to go through and for the new family to move in. They discussed that a small town in the mid-west would be perfect to raise a family. After long nights lying in bed discussing the best options, they came to a final decision of the little old town of Astoria, South Dakota, a quiet town surrounded by fields but not too far from everything. It was also just a few miles from the border of Minnesota. Just thirty miles southwest was a much bigger town of Brookings, and thirty miles northwest was Watertown. And just 90 miles south was the biggest city in South Dakota, Sioux Falls with a population over 200,000.

  They researched houses for sale in Astoria and were shocked at how cheap they were. They spoke to a realtor on the phone and arranged times to see the few houses out there. Then they purchased plane tickets. I stayed with my grandparents while they went exploring South Dakota. They looked at three houses right in town and another just on the outskirts of Astoria on Oak Lake. The houses in town were much cheaper and needed some work, but they fell in love with the house on Oak Lake. It had a long gravel driveway and a dock leading out to the lake. It was peaceful and quiet, not another house in miles, so they would have plenty of privacy. The house was a pale yellow two-story, four-bedroom ranch with plenty of land and a great view of the lake. This was the perfect spot—away from the east coast traffic, crime, and drugs—to raise a family. They put an offer on the house and were waiting to hear back from the realtor. The very next day my parents got the good news that their offer had been accepted and went to a local bank to fill out the paperwork for a home loan. Since they had to fly back to Massachusetts, they were going to have all the documents that needed to be signed faxed to my father’s office and mailed out as soon as possible.

  Within three months, we were all packed up and on our way to our new home in Astoria, South Dakota, with a population of 155 people, halfway across the country. Life there would be much different than life in Boston, which had a population of over half a million. There were lots of tears shed leaving family and friends behind and the place they were both born and raised, but my parents embraced the big change in our lives and knew this was the best decision they ever made—besides getting married and having me of course.

  Both my parents started their new jobs within a couple weeks after the move. The commute to and from work, a scenic and peaceful drive, was seamless compared to all the traffic in Boston they experienced daily. I started daycare for the first time and loved playing with all the other kids my age and made lots of friends. But I missed my grandparents. I went to their house five days a week for almost fifteen months. I know all these little details because my mom kept a journal and shared with me all these wonderful details.

  After a little over a year in our new house and adjusting to our new lives out in the country, my mom ann
ounced I was going to have a baby brother or sister soon. Her belly started getting bigger and my mom would grab my hand and put it on her stomach and ask me if could feel the baby moving. I would lay my head on her belly and give the baby big hugs and lots of kisses.

  ***

  A few weeks before my third birthday, my baby brother, Matthew Joseph, was born. We were a very happy family. All four of my grandparents came to visit us to meet my new baby brother, and while they were with us we celebrated my third birthday. My parents threw a big princess birthday party for me and I got lots of presents! One set of grandparents stayed for a week and the other for a whole month to help my mom while Dad went back to work. I was sad to see them leave. I wanted them to stay with us forever, but once they left, the house was quiet again.

  My baby brother slept a lot. It made me sad because I wanted to play with him all the time, but he was too little to do anything fun. He just laid there. Soon enough, however, he started crawling and getting into everything. He would pull things down and knock things over. He thought it was funny and would laugh. Matthew had the cutest little laugh.

  At six months old Matthew started crawling. At least now I could chase him around the room. He tried to get away from me and was a fast little bugger. Mom and Dad said it would probably be another five or six months before he would start walking.

  I liked helping Mom feed him when he was old enough to sit in his highchair. I would climb into a chair next to him and copy what my mom did, swirling the spoon up and down and all around like an airplane while making funny noises until Matthew opened his mouth wide for a bite. He made a big mess when he started eating, all over his face and on his bib, and I'm sure I didn't help much, being only three and a half years old at the time, but I loved being Mommy's little helper. It made me feel like a big girl.

  Matthew started walking before his first birthday and we used to clap and cheer him on with every step he took. It was a big deal for Mom. She missed all the firsts with me because she went right back to work when I was just 12 weeks old. She didn't want to miss any of it with Matthew, so my mom stayed at home and raised us after Matthew was born. My dad worked a lot, but we spent every weekend together and did fun stuff as a family and took lots of trips together.