by Morgan Rice
“I’m going to bed,” Caleb announced, as he turned and strutted up the steps.
Caleb always said “good night,” always asked her to come to bed with him. In fact, Caitlin could not remember a night they had not gone to bed together.
Now, he didn’t even ask.
Caitlin went back to her chair in the living room, and sat there, listening to his boots climb the steps, hearing their bedroom door close behind him. It was the loneliest sound she’d ever heard.
She burst into tears, and she cried for she didn’t know how long. Eventually she curled up into a ball, crying into the pillow. She vaguely remembered Ruth coming up to her, trying to lick her face; but it was all just a blur, because soon, her body racked with sobs, she fell into a deep and fitful sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
Caitlin felt something cold and wet on her face, and slowly opened her eyes. Disoriented, she was looking at her living room, sideways; she realized she had fallen asleep on the chair. The room was dim, and from the muted light coming through the drapes, she realized day was just beginning to break. The sound of pouring rain slammed against the glass.
Caitlin heard whining, and felt something wet on her face again and looked over and saw Ruth, standing over her, licking her, whining hysterically. She was prodding her with her cold, wet snout, and she wouldn’t quit.
Finally Caitlin sat up, realizing something was wrong. Ruth wouldn’t stop whining, louder and louder, then finally barking at her—she’d never known her to act this way.
“What is it, Ruth?” Caitlin asked.
Ruth barked again, then turned and ran from the room, towards the front door. Caitlin looked down and in the dim light made out a trail of muddy pawprints all over the carpet. Ruth must have been outside, Caitlin realized. The front door must be open.
Caitlin hurried to her feet, realizing that Ruth was trying to tell her something, to lead her somewhere.
Scarlet, she thought.
Ruth barked again, and Caitlin felt that was it. Ruth was trying to lead her to Scarlet.
Caitlin ran out the room, her heart pounding. She didn’t want to waste a second by running upstairs to get Caleb. She tore through the living room, through the parlor, and out the front door.
Where could Ruth have possibly found Scarlet? she wondered. Was she safe? Was she alive?
Caitlin flooded with panic as she burst out the front door, already ajar from Ruth, who had somehow managed to get it open, and out onto the front porch. The world was filled with the sound of pouring rain. There was a soft, rumbling thunder, and a flash of lightning in the breaking dawn, and in the soft gray light, the torrential rain slammed down to earth.
Caitlin stopped at the top of the steps, as she saw where Ruth had went. She flooded with panic.
Lightning filled the sky, and there, before her, was an image that traumatized her—one that lodged in her brain, one that she would never forget as long as she lived.
There, lying on the front lawn, curled up in a ball, unconscious, naked, was her daughter. Scarlet.
Exposed to the rain.
Pacing over her, barking like crazy, Ruth looked back and forth between Caitlin and Scarlet.
Caitlin burst into action: she ran down the steps, tripping over them as she went, screaming out in terror as she ran for her daughter. Her mind raced with a million scenarios of what might have happened to her, where she might have went, how she might have returned. Whether she was healthy. Alive.
The worst possible scenarios all flashed through her mind at once, as Caitlin ran in the muddy grass, slipping and sliding.
“SCARLET!” Caitlin shrieked, and another clap of thunder met her cry.
It was the wail of a mother beside herself with grief, the wail of a mother who could not stop whaling as she ran to Scarlet, knelt beside her, scooped her up in her arms, and prayed to God with everything she had that her daughter was still alive.
CHAPTER SIX
Caitlin sat beside Caleb in the stark-white hospital room, watching Scarlet sleep. The two of them sat in separate chairs, a few feet away from one another, each lost in their own world. They were both so emotionally drained, so panic-stricken, they hadn’t any energy left to even speak to each other. In all the other tough times in their marriage, they’d always found solace in each other; but this time was different. The incidents of the last day had been too dramatic, too terrifying.
Caitlin was still in shock; so, she knew, was Caleb. They each needed to process it their own way.
They sat there in silence, watching Scarlet sleep, the only sound in the room the beeping of the various machines. Caitlin was afraid to take her eyes off her daughter, afraid that if she looked away, she might lose her again. The clock over Scarlet’s head read 8 AM, and Caitlin realized she’d been sitting there for the last three hours, ever since they’d admitted her, watching. Scarlet had not awakened since they’d brought her in.
The nurses had reassured them several times that all of Scarlet’s vitals were normal, that she was just in a deep sleep, and that there was nothing to worry about. On the one hand, Caitlin was greatly relieved; but on the other, she wouldn’t really believe it until she saw for herself, saw Scarlet awake, her eyes open, saw the same old Scarlet she had always known—happy and healthy.
Caitlin ran through in her mind, again and again, the events of the past 24 hours. But no matter how she dissected them, none of it made any sense—unless she returned to the same conclusion: that Aiden was right. Her journal was real. That her daughter was a vampire. That she, Caitlin, once had been one, too. That she had traveled back in time, had found the antidote, and had chosen to return here, to this time and place, to live out a normal life. The Scarlet was the last remaining vampire on earth.
The thought terrified Caitlin. She was so protective of Scarlet and determined that nothing bad should happen to her; yet, at the same time, she also felt a responsibility to humanity, felt that if all this were true, she could not allow Scarlet to spread it, to re-create the vampire race once again. She hardly knew what to do, and she didn’t know what to think, or to believe. Her own husband didn’t believe her, and she could hardly blame him. She hardly believed herself.
“Mom?”
Caitlin sat upright as she saw Scarlet’s eyes flutter open. She jumped up from her chair, and ran over to her bedside, as did Caleb. The two hovered over Scarlet as she slowly opened her big, beautiful eyes, lit up by the morning sun coming through the window.
“Scarlet? Honey?” Caitlin asked. “Are you okay?”
Scarlet yawned and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, then slowly rolled over onto her back, blinking, disoriented.
“Where am I?” she asked.
Caitlin was flooded with relief at the sound of her voice; she sounded, and looked, like the same old Scarlet. There was strength in her voice, strength in her movements, in her facial expressions. In fact, to Caitlin’s utter surprise, Scarlet looked completely normal, as if she’d just casually awakened from a long sleep.
“Scarlet, do you remember anything that happened?” Caitlin asked.
Scarlet turned and looked at her, then slowly propped herself up on one elbow, sitting up partially.
“Am I in a hospital?” she asked, surprised. She surveyed the room, realizing she was. “OMG.
What am I doing here? Did I get really sick?”
Caitlin felt an even greater sense of relief at her words—and her motions. She was sitting up.
She was alert. Her voice was completely normal. Her eyes were bright. It was hard to believe that anything abnormal had ever happened.
Caitlin thought about how to respond, how much to tell her. She didn’t want to scare her.
“Yes honey,” Caleb interjected. “You were sick. The nurse sent you home from school, and we took you to the hospital this morning. Do you remember any of it?”
“I remember being sent home from school…being in bed, in my room…then…” She furrowed her brow, as if trying to
remember. “…that’s about it. What was it? A fever? Whatever. I feel fine now.”
Caleb and Caitlin both exchanged a confused look. Clearly, Scarlet seemed normal, and didn’t remember anything.
Should we tell her? Caitlin wondered.
She didn’t want to terrify her. But at the same time, she felt that she needed to know, needed to know some part of what happened to her. She could sense Caleb was thinking the same thing.
“Scarlet, honey,” Caitlin began softly, trying to think how to best phrase her words, “when you were sick, you jumped out of bed and ran out the house. Do you remember that?” Scarlet looked at her, eyes widening in surprise.
“Really?” she asked. “Ran out the house? What do you mean? Like, sleepwalking? How far did I go?”
Caitlin and Caleb exchanged a look.
“You actually ran pretty far,” Caitlin said. “We couldn’t find you for a while. We called the police, and we called some of your friends—”
“Seriously?” Scarlet asked, sitting upright, reddening. “You called my friends? Why? That’s so embarrassing. How did you get their numbers?” Then she realized. “Did you raid my phone? How could you do that?”
She leaned back in bed, sighing, staring at the ceiling, exasperated.
“This is so mortifying. I’ll never live this down. How am I going to face everyone? Now they’ll think I’m some kind of freak or something.”
“Honey, I’m sorry, but you were sick, and we couldn’t find you—” Suddenly the door to the room opened, and in walked a man who was clearly her doctor, strutting in with authority, flanked by two residents, each holding clipboards. They walked right to the clipboard at the base of Scarlet’s bed and read the chart.
Caitlin was glad for the interruption, defusing their argument.
A nurse trailed them, and walked up to Scarlet and raised her hospital bed to a sitting position.
She wrapped her bicep and read her blood pressure, then inserted a digital thermostat in her ear and read it to the doctor.
“Normal,” she announced to the doctor, as he read the clipboard, nodding. “The same as when she came in here. We found nothing wrong with her at all.”
“I feel fine,” Scarlet chimed in. “I know I was sick yesterday, I guess I had a fever or whatever.
But I’m fine now. Actually, I’d really like to go to school. I have a lot of tests today. And some damage control to do,” she added, looking angrily at her parents. “And I’m hungry. Can I go now?” Caitlin was worried by Scarlet’s reaction, her insistence on trying to just brush all this under the rug and jump back into normal life. She looked at Caleb, hoping he felt the same, but she sensed in him, too, a desire to forget all this and to rush back to normalcy. He seemed relieved.
“Scarlet,” the doctor began. “Is it okay if I examine you and ask you a few questions?”
“Sure.”
He handed his clipboard to one of his residents, removed his stethoscope, placed it on her chest, and listened. He then placed his fingers on various spots on her stomach, then reached out and took her wrists, and bent her arms in various directions. He felt her lymph nodes, felt her throat, and felt the pressure points behind her elbows and knees.
“I’m told you were sent home from school yesterday with a fever,” he said. “How do you feel now?”
“I feel great,” she responded, chipper.
“Can you describe to me how you were feeling yesterday?” he pressed.
Scarlet furrowed her brow.
“It’s kind of hazy, to be honest,” she said. “I was in class and I, like, started to feel really sick.
My head hurt, and the light hurt my eyes, and I felt really achy…I remember feeling really cold when I got home….But other than that it’s kind of a blur.”
“Do you have any memory of yesterday, of anything that happened after you got sick?” he asked.
“I was just telling my parents, I don’t. I’m sorry. They said I was like sleepwalking or something.
But I don’t remember. Anyway, I’d really like to get back to class.” The doctor smiled.
“You’re a strong and brave young girl, Scarlet. I admire your work ethic. I wish that all teenagers were like you,” he said with a wink. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to your parents for a few minutes. And yes, I see no reason why you can’t return to school. I’ll talk to the nurses and we’ll begin the paperwork to discharge you.”
“Yes!” Scarlet said, clenching her first in excitement as she sat up, her eyes gleaming.
The doctor turned to Caitlin and Caleb.
“May I talk to the two of you in private?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Caitlin and Caleb follow the doctor down the hall and into his large, brightly-lit office, the morning sun streaming in through the windows.
“Please, take a seat,” he said in his reassuring, authoritative voice, gesturing towards the two chairs opposite his desk, as he closed the door behind them.
Caitlin and Caleb sat and the doctor walked around his desk, holding his file, and took a seat behind his desk. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, glancing down at some notes, then removed his glasses, closed the folder, and pushed it to the side of his desk. He folded his hands and rested them on his stomach, leaning back slightly in his chair as he studied them both.
Caitlin felt reassured in his presence, and sensed he was good at what he did. She also liked how kind he had been to Scarlet.
“Your daughter is fine,” he began. “She’s absolutely normal. Her vitals are normal, and have been normal since she arrived, and she shows no sign of having had any convulsions or seizures or any epileptic disorders. She also shows no signs of neurological problems. Given the fact that you found her unclothed, we also checked for any signs of sexual activity—and there were none whatsoever. We also ran a slew of blood tests on her, all of which have come back negative. You can set your mind at ease: there is absolutely nothing wrong with your daughter.” Caleb sighed in relief.
“Thank you, doctor,” he said. “You don’t know what that means to us to hear that.” But inside, Caitlin was still shaking. She didn’t feel a sense of peace yet. If the doctor had told her that, in fact, Scarlet was positive for a medical condition, she would have, paradoxically, felt much better, more of a sense of ease: at least then she would know exactly what was wrong with her, and could discount any thoughts of vampirism.
But hearing this, that there was nothing medically wrong with her, only deepened Caitlin’s sense of dread.
“So then how do you explain what happened?” Caitlin asked the doctor, her voice trembling.
He turned and looked at her.
“Please tell me: what exactly did happen?” he asked. “I only know what the file says: that she had a fever yesterday afternoon, was sent home from school, that she ran out of the house, and that you found her on your lawn this morning. Is that accurate?”
“There’s more to it than that,” Caitlin snapped, determined to be heard. “She didn’t just run of the house. She…” Caitlin paused, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “She…transformed. Her level of strength—it’s hard to explain. My husband tried to stop her, and she threw him across the room. She threw me across the room, too. And her speed: we chased after her, and couldn’t catch her. It was no normal ‘running out of the house.’ Something happened to her. Something physical.” The doctor sighed.
“I realize this must have been very scary for you,” he said, “as it would be for any parent. But I can assure you again that there is nothing wrong with her. We encounter episodes like this from time to time, especially amongst teenagers. In fact, there is an age-old diagnosis for it: Conversion Syndrome. Formerly known as ‘hysteria.’ Fits like this can overwhelm the patient, and they can experience a surge of strength, and do things out of character. The state can last for several hours, after which they often return to normal. It is especially prevalent amongst teenage girls. No one knows its exact cause, althou
gh generally, it is brought on by a stressor. Did Scarlet experience any stress in the days leading up to the event? Anything different? Anything at all?” Caitlin slowly shook her head, still not buying it.
“Everything was perfect in her life. The night before was her sixteenth birthday. She introduced us to her new boyfriend. She was as happy as can be. She had no stress whatsoever.” The doctor smiled back.
“That is, she had no stress that you could see—or that she chose to reveal to you. But I think you’ve answered your own question: you said that she introduced you to her new boyfriend. Don’t you think that could be stressful in the eyes of a teenage girl? Parental approval? That certainly could have surfaced any latent stressors. Not to mention, her turning 16. High school, peer pressure, exams, SATs on the horizon…. There are an endless number of potential stressors there. Sometimes we don’t always know what sets it off. Scarlet may not even know herself. But the important thing is, there is nothing to worry about here.”
“Doctor,” Caitlin continued, more firmly, “this wasn’t merely a fit of hysteria, or whatever it is you’re calling it. I’m telling you, something happened in that room. Something…supernatural.” The doctor looked long and hard at her, his eyes widening.
Caleb interjected, leaning forward.
“I’m sorry, doctor—my wife has been under a lot of stress lately, as you can understand.”
“I’m not under stress,” Caitlin snapped back, sounding way too stressed and contradicting her own words. “I know what I saw. Doctor, I need you to help her daughter. She is not normal.
Something happened to her. She is changing. Please. There must be something you can do.
Someplace we can bring her.”
The doctor stared at Caitlin, looking stunned, for at least ten seconds. A thick silence hung in the air.
