“Abriana, we’ve gone over this,” he pointed out patiently. “I’m not Detective Lock. I’m Doctor Lock.”
“Doctor Lock?”
“Yes, Doctor Lock,” he responded. “I’m here to look after you until you start feeling better.”
I tried to sit up, but couldn’t. My mouth went dry and panic wracked my body.
“Please don’t struggle, Abriana,” soothed Doctor Lock. “We had to restrain you in order to protect you from hurting yourself.”
My jaw dropped open. “What?”
“You attacked one of our female staff,” Doctor Lock explained, his expression grim.
Straining against the leather straps securing my arms and legs to the bed, I broke out into a cold sweat. “I didn’t hurt anyone. It was Alexa! She was trying to kill me!”
Doctor Lock pressed his lips together, creating a thin line. “Abriana, we’ve been over this before . . . Alexa has been dead for over six months now.”
“Dead for six months? What are you talking about? She just tried to kill me!” I screamed.
Doctor Lock nodded at one of the nurses. “Abriana, you killed your sister six months ago.”
My head started to spin and my heart began to race. “What are you talking about?”
Doctor Lock inhaled and then slowly exhaled. “You and Alexa went to a party out at Hickory Farm together. You both were drinking. Toward the end of the night, when you found Alexa with MatÍ as, you became very upset . . . ” He trailed off for a moment before continuing, “You attacked her, and when MatÍ as tried to pull you off, you knocked him unconscious. Then, you strangled your sister.”
My eyes went wide and rage poured through my veins. “I did not! You’re lying. You’re LYING!” I shouted. Pulling violently against the restraints, I shook the small hospital bed.
“Hold her down,” Doctor Lock instructed two orderlies in the corner of the room.
As they approached, I continued to struggle. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“Nurse Porter,” he instructed, “please prepare the Lorazapam.”
I froze as my eyes landed upon the orderly with blond hair and gray eyes. No, no, no! It couldn’t be. I quickly scanned his uniform and let out a high pitch scream when I read his nametag, Easton.
My head fell back against the pillow as I screamed, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
“Abriana, I need you to calm down,” said Doctor Lock. “Nurse Porter is going to give you something right now to help.”
As the orderlies held my body down, Nurse Porter jabbed me with a sharp needle.
“There, there,” she coaxed.
“Abriana, after you calm down, we’d like you to attend your therapy session,” Doctor Lock said. “Does that sound like something you can do?”
“Go to HELL!” I shrieked.
“Okay then,” he said, “I’ll come back and check on you in just a bit. Hopefully, you’ll change your mind.”
I watched as he and the nurse left the room, deep in conversation. Both shook their head in agreement.
“Abriana,” said Easton. “We’re going to let go of you now.”
My head began to swim from the medication and I stopped fighting against the leather restraints wrapped secured to both wrists and ankles.
Stepping away from my bed, Easton and the other orderly nodded to a small camera fixed to the corner of the room. A buzzer went off and the door to my room whooshed open. Both men walked out, the door closing only seconds later, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
This all has to be some kind of terrible mistake. I was just with Alexa and she tried to kill me, not the other way around!
As the medication coursed through my veins, a heavy fog settled around my head. Alexa is the crazy one, not me.
Without warning, the temperature in the room dropped significantly, causing goose bumps to erupt over my skin and the hair on arms to stand up straight.
Abbbbriiaaaannnnnaaaa, called a voice from the opposite side of the room. Abbbbriannnnnaaaa.
A sick feeling settled in my stomach. “Alexa, is that you?”
My sister stepped forward and strolled toward my bed.
I let out a loud gasp as she got closer. The bright lights above accented her pale skin and tattered white dress. “Alexa! What are you doing here? They think I killed you!”
Wrapping her fingers around the bedrails, she threw her head back and let out a cackle that sent shivers up my spine.
Bile crept up the back of my throat as my gaze landed on the dark purple marks around her neck.
“Oh, my God! What happened to you?”
Cracking her neck to the left and then the right, she curled her lips back and gave me a wicked smile.
Then, without moving her lips, she spoke to me. I always looked up to you, Abriana. You know that, don’t you? I wanted to grow up and be just like my big sister. You had it all!
“Why aren’t your lips moving?” I asked, my voice trembling.
Ignoring my question, she went on, When you threw MatÍ as to the curb, he was crushed. That’s when it happened; he realized he had feelings for me. We kept it secret, because neither of us wanted to hurt you. But the night of the party, you found us.
She paused and ran her finger down my arm, leaving a searing pain behind. “Stop it, Alexa!” I shrieked. “You’re hurting me!”
You couldn’t stand the fact that MatÍ as wanted me instead of you, she sneered. So, you totally lost it. You attacked me and started pulling my hair. When MatÍ as tried to stop you, you hit him in the head with a piece of wood. I tried to run away from you and scream for help, but the music was too loud . . . I tried to fight you off, but you were just too strong. You pinned me down and wrapped your fingers around my neck. It only took a few minutes and I was gone. You killed me, Abriana. You’re a cold-blooded murder.
“No, no, no,” I murmured. “That didn’t happen. I could never kill you!”
Alexa shrugged as she dug her nails into her thighs. She kept eye contact as she raked them up slowly, leaving a trail of blood behind. Well, you did.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember the party. Nothing. I didn’t remember a single thing.
Alexa took a step forward and let out a snarl. In one night, you managed kill me and ruin MamÁ and PapÁ ’s life . . . As well as MatÍ as’!”
I shook my head. “You’re making this up. You’re lying. Everyone is lying to me!” I shrieked.
My sister arched an eyebrow and held out her hand, motioning to the room we were in. Do you think this is a lie? You’re in a psychiatric hospital, Abriana.
“It’s all a bad dream. It’s all a bad dream,” I repeated. I looked over at the sterile room. With pale grey walls, the room was void of furniture or anything else that could be used as a weapon; it was also completely silent. How am I going to get out of here? Deciding it was my best bet, I directed my attention toward the door and screamed, “HELP ME! Please somebody help me!”
Alexa laughed again and tugged on the elastic band holding her hair into a ponytail. No one is going to hear you in here. They’re soundproof . . . She spun around, letting her dark brown hair fan out and fall against her pale skin. It’s not a dream, Abriana.
This is real.
I shook my head. “If it’s real, then how can I see you right now?
A wicked smile tugged on the corners of Alexa’s lips. I’m a shade . . .
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.
Stretching her arms above her head, she released a yawn. I’m a spirit form of my former self.
I tried to let the information sink in, but I couldn’t. “If you’re a spirit, then why are you here?”
Alexa licked her lips. You deserve to be punished.
My breath caught in my chest and a hot flash spread across my body. “P-p-punished,” I stammered.
Yes, punished, snarled Alexa.
Fear mixed with a tingling sensation settled in my chest. “But you’re dead,” I whispered.
That’s not going
to stop me, she snapped. Who do you think played with your mind for the last six months? Did you really think it was a coincidence that you thought you were kidnapped by Easton? Or that Doctor Lock was a detective?
Sweat dampened my brow and fear spread through my body like a flame devouring kindling. “You didn’t,” I whispered.
Oh, but I did, cackled Alexa. And it’s only the beginning . . .
THE END
The Forgotten Ones
by
Laura Howard
Chapter 1
I caught a glimpse of my mother staring out the den window. She held her violin loosely under her chin, and the bow dangled from her fingertips. Her jaw was slack, her eyes locked on something in the trees beyond me. I knew that haunted expression. I froze.
I swallowed hard as her eyes shifted to me. The violin fell from her chin, and I could see her bottom lip trembling.
I should have been used to that reaction from her when she saw me during an episode. It happened every time. But I wasn’t.
I flew into the house as fast as my feet would carry me. The screen door crashed behind me as I came to a halt outside the den. My mother clutched fistfuls of her blonde hair, garbled words spilling from her lips.
“I have to. I have to go out there,” she said. “He’s waiting for me.”
She stood in the semi-darkness, mumbling, the only other sound the hum of the ceiling fan. I clung to the doorjamb as I watched my grandmother approach carefully. She placed her hands on my mother’s shoulders, and on contact my mother’s body stopped quaking. Gram crooned, rocking her back and forth, as she pulled her into her arms and led her away from the window.
My stomach tightened, and I backed away to leave them alone. If she saw me again, who knew what would happen.
I cringed as the floor creaked beneath me, and she jerked her head in my direction. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and the shaking began again. Breaking away from my grandmother, she stumbled backward toward the window. She raked her fingers down her face and hair as she moaned. “Liam . . . ” Tears streamed down her cheeks, causing thick strands of hair to stick to her face.
I entered the room slowly, desperate not to step on another squeaky floorboard. Her green eyes burned into mine, and I locked my eyes on hers. No matter how many times she fought my attempts to soothe her, I had to keep trying. She was my mom.
I reached for her shoulders. “Mom,” I whispered. “It’s just me.”
She flinched. I knew she recognized me. I’d never met my father, but under my mattress I hid the only scrap I could find with his image on it. The picture—a strip of them actually—was taken before I was born in a photo booth in Ireland. I looked just like him. Considering how she often spoke his name when she was like this, my gut told me that she saw my father in me.
She writhed as I touched her and clawed at my hands. Gurgling sounds came from somewhere deep in her throat, but I knew she was still saying my father’s name. I placed my hands gently over hers, my gaze steady, as though approaching a wounded animal. I took deep, soothing breaths the way Gram had taught me.
I could feel the weight of Gram’s stare, watching as I got closer than ever to my mother actually letting me comfort her. I focused on my mom, ignoring the panic rising in my chest.
“Shh..you’re okay,” I said. “You’re okay.” I repeated it over and over, softly, until her breathing became even, more normal. It felt like hours, but the tension in her fingers loosened eventually as she stopped trying to resist me.
My grandmother walked out of the room as I continued to make shushing sounds, the panic in my mother’s eyes fading. I couldn’t see it, but I knew Gram was probably smiling, at least a little.
I exhaled and led my mother to the couch. The same woman who had just been in the throes of a schizophrenic episode was now completely unresponsive as she sat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Gram standing just outside the doorway. I released my mother’s hands—she’d stay that way for a while, and there was nothing any of us could do—and got up to follow Gram down the hallway to the kitchen. The air wafted toward me as she moved, smelling like oranges and cloves—familiar and comforting.
I opened the refrigerator, snagged a bottle of water, and slouched down at the kitchen table. I tried to smile as I unscrewed the cap, but inside I was struggling with the gratification of being able to bring my mother down from her episode versus the pang of guilt for being the one who caused her condition in the first place. Before I was born, she’d been a bright, happy college student. Her spiral into schizophrenia didn’t start until I showed up.
She had met my father during her last year of college. She had traveled to Ireland for her final semester to study music at Trinity College in Dublin. She’d been fine when she left, I’m told, but when she came back she was heartbroken and pregnant. She’d never been the same since.
“Have you eaten, honey?” Gram asked, nailing me in place with her eyes.
I flipped the bottle cap in my fingers. “No, but I’m fine.”
“Oh no, you don’t. We had a nice steak for supper, cooked just the way you like. You’ll have some, won’t you?”
I had to laugh. With Gram there was no choice, even if she asked. I sat down at the table while she whirled around the kitchen. In minutes I had a steak dinner in front of me, complete with steaming mashed potatoes and green beans.
“You spoil me, you know,” I said between bites. “I’m never going to be able to take care of myself if you keep this up.”
Gram smiled at me. “You’ll have plenty of time to take care of yourself. Let me spoil you while I still can.”
I swallowed down the guilt, knowing she didn’t see raising me—and Mom—for the past almost twenty-two years as the burden it felt like to me.
As I ate, my mother walked into the kitchen. She sat down at the table quietly without looking at either of us.
“Hi, Mom . . . ” I spoke as softly as I could, not wanting to alarm her.
“Hello.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She chewed on her fingernail and stared absently out the window. Even with the hair framing her face in knots, my mother looked lovely. Her eyes sage green, her skin flawless. She was forty-three but didn’t look a day over thirty.
“That was a beautiful tune you played earlier, Beth,” Gram said as she took my mother’s hands in her own. “I could practically smell the breeze blowing in off the Irish sea.”
“Mm hmm,” my mother answered, mostly detached, but a tiny smile lifted the corner of her mouth.
My cell phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out quickly before it startled my mom. I opened it to find a message from my cousin, Nicole:
I need ice cream tonight
I gave a small laugh as I put my phone back into my pocket. I’d worked all afternoon at my grandfather’s hardware store, but it was Friday night—I should’ve known I wouldn’t be able to just relax with a good book. Nicole was twenty, only a year younger than me, and we were as close as sisters. But our ideas of a perfect Friday night couldn’t be more different. If only we didn’t live next door to each other maybe I could get out of this.
I glanced out the window to Nicole’s driveway. When I’d gotten home, it had been filled with cars—her friends had been taking over the place. But now I was grateful to only see her little Jetta. Hanging out with Nicole I guess I could handle.
Her friends were a different story. Especially when Ethan Magliaro was around.
Chapter 2
Nicole and I sat down at a table on the patio with two of the biggest sundaes on the menu at DeeDee’s. The sun was hanging low in the evening sky, and the heat from earlier in the day had settled into pleasant warmth on my skin. The last fingers of golden light caused the pink and blue umbrellas to cast a glow across Nicole’s pale blonde hair. She licked a puff of whipped cream off her spoon and eyed me.
“What?” I said through a mouthful of ice cream.
“We’re going to the be
ach tomorrow,” she said before taking her own bite.
“Have fun,” I mumbled.
She wiped her lips with a napkin and narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re coming.” I opened my mouth to argue, but she held a slender finger up at me and pursed her lips. “It’s the first Saturday you’ve had off in months. School’s over, at least for the summer. You’re coming.”
I sighed and looked up at the pattern of our umbrella. “You really know how to ruin a perfectly good sundae.”
Her eyes shot daggers at me. “We’ll have a great time, Al.” Her expression changed as she seemed to change tactics. Her green eyes widened and her lip stuck out just the tiniest bit.
Cranky Nicole was a challenge, but pouting Nicole was impossible.
“Fine,” I sighed. “We’re going to the beach.” I looked at my sundae, which had made me so happy a minute earlier and a thought came to me. She hadn’t said anyone else was coming, but Nicole and her boyfriend Jeff were practically inseparable. “Wait, who else is going?”
Nicole grinned, clearly smelling her victory. “The usual crew: Jeff, Rachel, Sean and”—her eyebrows inched up—“Ethan.”
I nodded, trying to breathe evenly. I hated the way my pulse spiked at just the mention of his name. Handsome, cocky Ethan. His smile had the power to break down every one of my defenses. But, I didn’t have space in my life for that. I had a plan—to focus on taking care of my mom. My grandparents had done it by themselves for long enough. I needed to find a way to help, to unburden them. That was my priority. But Ethan . . . he was so hard to resist sometimes.
Just as I began to get lost in thought, a quick movement caught my eye as Jeff snuck up behind Nicole. He held his finger to his lips and planted a kiss on Nicole’s cheek.
She jumped and instinctively smacked him, but a smile overtook her face when she realized who it was.
“Hey, babe.” Jeff took the seat next to her and looked over at me. “Hey, Al.”
The chair next to mine scraped the patio, and it was my turn to jump. Ethan dropped into the seat and grinned at me, his dimples out in full force. I tried to concentrate on my sundae.
PANDORA Page 41
