by Stock, L. J.
Parallel
Book 1 in the Mortisalian Saga
L. J. Stock
© All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written consent from the author, except that of small quotations used in critical reviews and promotions via blogs.
Parallel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
PARALLEL ©2016 L.J. Stock
Cover Illustration Copyright © 2016 Pexels.com, Dollarphotoclub.com
Cover design by L.J. Stock, LJDesigns
Book design by LJDesigns
Editing by Heather Ross of Heather's Red Pen Editing Services, Victoria L. James, Katleen Lamour and Claire Allmendinger of BNW Editing Services.
Chapter Illustrations ©2016 L.J. Stock, LJDesigns
Promotions: Wendy Shatwell & Claire Allmendinger of Bare Naked Words www.barenakedwords.co.uk
eBook Formatting: LJDesigns
L.J. Stock on Social Media:
Twitter - www.twitter.com/L_J_Stock
Facebook www.facebook.com/ljstockauthor
Contents
Acknowledgments
1. From Bad to Worse
2. Journey of Uncertainty
3. Realm of Disbelief
4. History Lessons
5. Fate’s Folly
6. Fissures
7. Trials and Tribulations
8. Try and Try Again
9. Leaps and Bounds
10. Meet and Greet
11. Revelations
12. Web of Lies
13. Split Second
14. Adjustments
15. Building Bridges
16. Chain Reactions
17. Goodbyes
18. Rumors
19. Facing Reality
20. Coming To Terms
21. Getting To Know You
22. Off The Rails
23. Failed Attempts
24. Dealing
25. Decisions
26. Communication
27. The Blows Keep On Coming
28. Strange Dreams
29. Preparations
30. Every Little Girl’s Dream Come True
31. Formalities
32. Off-Course
33. Invasion
34. Get Out Alive
35. Divine Intervention
36. Home
Epilogue
Glossary
Playlist
About the Author
Also by L. J. Stock
Acknowledgments
There are so many people to thank for this book that I don't know where to start, maybe the beginning is the best. I started this series in 2009. The idea came to me slowly and built in my head until it was all I could think about. It's original beginning was nothing like the one that's here now. In fact, Cass was a very different person, but with everything, and all the volumes, she evolved with time.
So the first people I need to thank are Cass, Aileen and Rebecca. These three wonderful ladies were around at the inception of Parallel and were flooded with endless questions as the beginning inklings of doubt crept in. The three of you were always there to beat me into shape and sit me back in front of the keyboard and for that, I will be eternally grateful.
My older sister, Rachael, was the next to be subjected to the manuscript of the first book, and I sat chewing my nails impatiently as she read it, critiqued it, and gave me her honest opinion. I should probably add it was slightly bias, because she's my big sister and she loves me almost as much as I love her, but she was detailed, and she gave me a reason for every critique she had and that was invaluable for me. Rachael, you're one of my personal heroes and I can't tell you how much of an influence you've had on me in life. You're strong, honest and loyal, and you've never strayed far from the person you are. You're my rock and I love you more than you know.
After that, I sat on it for a couple of years and put my efforts into other projects, I made a few new friends along the way and in time told them about my little side project. This was when the other three books were written – yes they're written but need a mass editing – Heather Ross and Breyanne Osbourne were right there at my side as I worked at this, reading individual chapter and passages tirelessly as I worked. Both of these women have a massive talent and more patience than I ever deserved, but they stuck with me and I finally had a four book series finished – roughly anyway. I should also mention they are linked to these books and immortalized within it's pages, but that's for y'all to discover. They know where they are and the parts they play. To the two of you I want to say a huge thank you. Breyanne, you have this light about you that not many people had and I hope to this day I made you proud. Heather, you're my best friend and I love you for being there and holding my hand when I hit a hurdle. You've never given up on me and I can't thank you enough for that, and for being one of the biggest advocates for Cass and her friends, even when you know what's coming!
Somewhere along the way, I decided a rewrite was most definitely in order for the first book. Don't get me wrong, I love these characters with everything I have and possess, but I seemed to think the first book needed a more defined beginning and a more intricate journey for Cass, I felt like she deserved that. While this was happening, more of my supportive, and beautiful friends came aboard. Rhonda Middleton –a perpetual cheerleader and a spiritual blessing. I love you to pieces you have such a lightness about you! Victoria L. James – one of the most talented writers I have ever met and the sweetest and kindest person. I want to thank you for being such an amazing friend to me. You're always so generous with your time and thoughts, and your efforts in tying little bows around the fracturing parts to keep me together when I start falling apart will always be appreciated. I love you! Thank you also for allowing me to hijack your street team on occasion.
After I had rewritten Parallel, I went through the gargantuan task of cutting the 180, 000 word manuscript to what it is now. Once that and a couple of edits were made, it was sent out to my crack team of editor/betas. Katleen Lamour, Heather Ross, Victoria L. James and Claire Allmendinger. You ladies are my rocks. You took all of my words and mish-mashed efforts at grammar (which is improving bit by bit thanks to you) and make them tighter. I know this was an epic task of gargantuan proportions, but each and every one of you put so much into helping me get this right that I owe you my firstborn. I love each and every one of you not just for this but for several different reasons. You're the best team a girl could ever ask for and that is priceless.
Sue Hollingmode and Kristina Hanicar your endless posting on social media is more than a girl could ever ask for. You both put so much of your personal time into helping that thank you just doesn't seem enough. I hope you know how special you both are to me. I love you guys!
Almost there! Promise!!
Bare Naked Words... Wendy Shatwell and Claire Allmendinger. You two work so tirelessly to get the word out there for us indie authors. You put your blood sweat and tears into this and you always go above and beyond. Thank you for all of your hard work, for your friendship, and for your help. You are magnificent and I love you!
Emma Ross – You never got to see this day come to fruition, but you were just as much a part of this as anyone else. Thank you for all the feedback you gave me, and the friendship.
And to my family – those that are and no longer here. You have always encouraged me, given me love and support and picked me back up when I fall down.You inspire me, you're my muses, and I love you unconditionally – more than you wi
ll ever know.
Finally, to you, the reader. Whether you're a new reader or a reader familiar with my other titles, I can't thank you enough for your support and for reading. Taking a book from an idea to the page can be a daunting task, but you make it worth it. Without you, ideas would just be that – ideas!
After that added chapter I'm going to say one big final thank you and leave you alone.
All My Love
L.J.
Dedication
To my big sister, Rachael Stock.
We've been through so much over the years, but the one thing I knew I could count on was you. You're my compass, my cheerleader, and I couldn't have picked a better sister if they'd given me a choice. I love you! This one's for you...
From Bad to Worse
Both of my arms were beginning to ache. The strange angle they were being forced into did nothing to help the situation. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about it. For the first time in the seven years I’d been locked up in this hospital, I was being physically forced into doing something I couldn’t do. I wasn’t being a drama queen either. As we traveled down the corridor, I tried my best to engage the two orderlies, Susan and Beth, into some kind of dialogue to dissuade them from what they were about to attempt.
For a while, I actually started to believe it was working. Beth, the taller of the two, glanced over at her comrade, then back at the chart hanging next to my fast-disappearing door. Most of the orderlies knew my condition and they left me alone to do what I had to do. For those who didn’t know me, the chart was a handy manual all about me, and what I could, and couldn’t do. It was quite extensive and comprehensive after seven years of notes, yet something Beth had chosen to overlook in favor of her coworkers word. The second-guessing lasted all of ten seconds before her eyes snapped forward at the lack of response from Susan. I had no idea where they were taking me, which meant I was being particularly belligerent and difficult as they navigated us through the hospital. I'd never been a confrontational person by nature, but I wasn’t a doormat either; a simple explanation was all I needed, but they’d said nothing.
Eventually, I was dragged into the sterile second floor bathroom with its banal tiles and regimented lines of sinks that led to the communal showers and baths, which was when the panic really started to set in. Admittedly, being taken to bathe wasn’t something most people lost their minds over, but I wasn’t most people; I never had been. It was when I finally saw the steam rising, creating a mist in the center of the room, that I felt the first wiry fingers of terror clutch at my heart.
It was also when I knew I had to fight.
Life in a psychiatric hospital was generally easier when you cooperated, and I’d strictly adhered to that rule as much as possible. Admittedly, I faked my way through areas of my so-called recovery as much as I could in the hopes of escape, but other than that, I was on the straight and narrow, being the best I could be, while keeping my head down and my ass clean. It had made my life a little simpler to comply, and since Alexa – the ash blonde fireball who had been assigned as my nurse for almost five years – had appeared, it had even been relatively pleasant, for a psychiatric hospital.
Digging my heels into the cool, damp tile in protest, the bottom half of my body twisted in an attempt to go in the other direction. Looking at the mist created by the showers was like staring down the barrel of a gun, culminating in the very situation I’d been trying to avoid, and that was more than enough motivation to make me struggle and fight. Unfortunately, the only thing I succeeded in doing was painfully tightening Susan’s grip on my arm, forcing her nails deeper into the skin to the point that I knew there would be half moon crescents imprinted into my flesh. I could already feel them forming.
I couldn’t recall being thrown around by the staff before. Most of the other orderlies liked to pretend the patients were invisible a lot of the time, and the patients made damn sure to stay out of their way if they didn’t want a target painted on their backs. It was a twisted but symbiotic relationship that worked for the most part. Ignore the bars on the windows and the electric bolts on the door, and there were times you could pretend you weren’t locked away from the rest of the functioning world.
As one of the particularly lucid patients, I was given more freedom than most, like being able to go where I needed to without question, and having access to the bathrooms without an escort. All of which served to make this incident completely unprecedented and unnecessary.
“You can’t do this. I have rights. There might not be many, but I still have them.” God, I hoped Beth didn’t ask me to list them because I was at a loss of as to what those rights were. Alexa always teased me about my verbal vomit, and challenged me to back up my bullshit stories with facts rather than fabricated lies that would swing things in my favor. She was probably one of the only people, outside of my older brother, Steven, and his wife, to believe that I wasn’t crazy.
“So do we, Cassandra. More than you, in fact, but you’ve fought us every step of the way,” Beth said sternly, even as the sudden discomfort in her face told me she wasn’t sure about what they were doing anymore. “It’s been four days since you’ve bathed. How do you think that makes all the other patients feel? It’s unsanitary.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, my tone filled with indignation. “I had a shower at three o’clock this morning.”
“Well, it’s not in your file,” Beth fired back, her tone sounding more unsure as she, once again, glanced over at Susan for confirmation.
“Yes, it is,” I argued, twisting my arm in Beth’s grip. Susan had been silent since they’d burst into my room, and she was continuing with her reticence. Her hand tightened around my arm with every small twist I gave in an attempt to gain liberation. Beth was the weakness in the duo, and as Steven once told me, you’re only as strong as your weakest link. I knew my target. Now all I had to do was get her to listen to what I was saying. “I watched Alexa write it in there. I remember because I made her laugh, and she accidentally spat her saltine over the page.”
“You expect me to believe you, simply because you have an excess of details? I know enough about your file to know you’re a compulsive liar, Cassandra.” Beth rolled her eyes as she finished, her disapproval easily read in her hardened stare.
“So you don’t actually know anything. You’re just making assumptions.” My tone was accusatory, but at this point I felt it was warranted. There was something off about this situation, and both Beth and I knew it. Beth was lying to herself to justify the circumstances, and her part in it.
“Susan, would you please talk to the girl?” Beth asked, her grip loosening by the smallest amount. Susan stayed stoically silent, however, and continued her ever-forward motion, even as Beth and I paused. The sudden dispute in traction left me feeling like a rag doll being pulled between the two of them.
I had no idea what was going on, but the closer I got to where the showers were running, the more I lost my calm, and the panic began to take over. My legs scissored under me, the dew on the tile making it impossible to fight with any conviction. Not that it stopped me from trying. I was frantic, my heart pounding a frenetic beat in my chest as a small whimper escaped my pursed lips.
The three of us were so close to the showers by that point that the steam was beginning to form droplets on my skin, and my vision flickered in and out of the room surrounding us. The bright fluorescent lights gave way to the harsh orange glow of flames, while the din of noise beyond the walls suddenly became horrifically loud and deafening. The sounds of battles and deaths filled my head immediately, drowning out any words of wisdom Beth was trying to feed me as she gave up the fight to stop Susan and began working with her again.
There was a reason I only showered in the early hours of the morning. The doctor had approved it, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with the logic. There were times I honestly didn’t know if I was batshit crazy or not, but I knew that the madness to my method worked. There was a temporary peace at that
time of the morning, and with my eyes closed, I stayed firmly in the moment with no temptation to open them every time I heard a death knell.
It was just beyond the panic of my visions that my paranoia was nagging at me. I was certain they’d been waiting for Alexa to go to dinner to pull me from my room. Alexa hadn’t been gone long – ten minutes at most – when Susan had stormed in without so much as a word and dragged me out of my room.
The sun had been going down, which wasn’t a good time of the day for me generally. The sounds had escalated, so I’d had my iPod on to drown out the battles that were bad enough without the water amplifying them. It was the same routine every night: a systematic series of events that had been in place for just over four years, which made this scene all the more unusual.
“Susan?” Beth asked again, taking a step toward the other orderly. If she’d been unsure about the situation before, she was now beginning to get suspicious, which would have had me cheering had it not been for the voice of reason behind us.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Alexa’s voice was like a choir of angels in my head, cutting through the tumult like a hot blade through butter. I spun around so quickly I almost lost my footing on the damp tile, both of my legs sliding out to the sides and wobbling as I attempted to find traction.
