She knew where she was, yet she was lost. She had been here before and never before. She wanted to run but her feet were heavy, stuck in something thick and gluey, something that would not let her escape.
There was fire. Angry yellow fire bursting through doors and eating through the roof. The fire was inside and she was outside in the cold. Something wet fell on her cheeks. Snow. She saw everything; she saw nothing. People, a huddle of humanity. Mothers with open mouths screaming for their children. Men, taken unawares, stricken with confusion, frozen, helpless. Children staggering beneath the impact of an explosion, their little arms reaching, seeking safety. And over it all a pall of red, denying her a clear view, permitting only impressions. And yet she knew she had walked this place before.
There was more, much more, presented to her in rapid-fire succession. Fire. Explosion. Screams. Cries. Red. Always red. Pain. Loneliness. Anger.
Confused, lost, she concentrated on locating herself. Slowly, creeping through her consciousness, realization penetrated her senses. Crazily, a cheery Christmas carol piped through her ears. Glittery holiday decorations swung in erratic rhythms before crashing down, plummeting from great heights into the maelstrom below.
Squeezing her eyes shut and curling herself into a fetal position, she huddled under the bed covers. She was trapped, and nothing could save her if she stayed here in this dream world.
Sobs tore through her chest and tears erupted behind her tightly closed lids. She must wake up, she must. Otherwise she would be imprisoned forever in her own nightmare. Odd words echoed in her mind.
What you can’t see is sometimes right in front of you.
Over and over, the same words. What did they mean? Who was saying them? The voice wasn’t hers. Her body sat upright in the narrow bed.
The haze of red clouded her vision, seeming to steal into the corners of her room, seeping beneath the windowsill and dissolving into the light of day. Shuddering with fright and shackled with a sense of doom, she opened her eyes and screamed.
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Compilation copyright © 2011 by Kensington Publishing Corp. “Silver Bells” copyright © 2008 by Fern Michaels “Snow Angels” copyright © 2009 by Fern Michaels “Holiday Magic” copyright © 2010 by MRK Productions
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Coming Home for Christmas Page 27
