Thriller: Horror: Conceived (Mystery Suspense Thrillers) (Haunted Paranormal Short Story)

by Stephen Kingston

  Robert had also laid his hands on her with that first pregnancy, when she’d insisted on being able to work after the child was born. She’d not lost the child but she’d lost a bit of her own will and her spirit with that beating. Robert had told her the Bible condoned his treatment of her and he always followed his favorite passages to the letter.

  Meg had known then there was no escape but every now and then she’d have enough and rebel. By the time the fifth child was born she’d learned to hide her rebellions, to perform them in small ways that Robert wouldn’t notice or in ways that would make him think she was complying. She’d learned deceit from him and Meg hated herself for it.

  Rolling over once more Meg thought of what it must be like to be Anne, stuck up on that mountain with her mother. Meg suspected Anne’s tale of her husband John was just that, a tale, but knew Anne’s mother. Sophia and John could often be found on a Sunday discussing the evils of the modern world. Meg didn’t care for the woman and felt deep pity for Anne. The things that woman must have endured growing up with such a hateful mother.

  Meg vowed to do what she could for the poor woman, befriending her being the first of her tasks. Meg couldn’t do a whole lot to rebel against Robert but she could help Anne get away from her mother once her child had been born. She’d already written a letter to some of her old friends asking for help for the girl.

  Meg’s old friends could be vapid, judgmental, and pointless, their lives revolving around parties and social climbing but they understood charity. Meg hoped she’d be able to help the woman by setting up a fund for after her child’s birth. She’d used the story Anne had told, without telling her friends of her doubts, and posted the letters before Robert even came home.

  Meg knew she may be trapped in her life and that there was little she could do for Joan but she knew she could help Anne. Meg was determined to help the woman and hoped letters, and checks, would start arriving soon. She could not ask for that same charity for herself, Robert’s pride could not stand that, but she could ask for Anne. She’d wait until after the child’s birth to tell the woman, she decided with a smile. Her mind finally at peace, having solved one problem, Meg finally fell into a light sleep, the only time she was truly at peace.

  Chapter Six

  Over the next few months Joan, Anne, and Meg all became friends, the trio often seen doing charitable work together and visiting one another. The exception was that Joan and Meg avoided Anne’s house. They’d all silently agreed that spending time with the sour Sophia was to be avoided.

  Anne and Joan bloomed, while Meg began to grow worn-looking. The shots kept her energy levels up but Meg’s body still wasn’t responding well to her tenth pregnancy. The dark circles under Meg’s eyes worried all three women but all they could do was pray and try to ease her burden.

  Joan spent a lot more time with Meg than Anne did. It was difficult for Anne to get away from her mother. The woman always had some kind of chores for Anne to do and would apparently throw fits when she thought Anne was spending too much time with the other women.

  Anne tried to tell her mother she was with the preacher’s wife and the other woman’s best friend but Anne’s mother accused her of meeting up with men and other things that no woman should accuse her child of doing without good proof. Meg and Joan knew exactly where Anne was, with them, and thought Sophia’s accusations a sign of just how insane the woman was.

  Joan was helping Meg bathe the children and feed them, wondering for the millionth time where Robert was that was so much more important than helping his wife with their children when Meg’s phone rang. Meg looked at Joan in question and Joan shook her head, letting the other woman know she had control of the children so Meg could answer the phone in peace.

  “Hello?” Joan heard Meg ask.

  “Oh, how terrible, yes of course I’ll let Robert know Mrs. Rasnake, tell Anne…” Meg’s words cut off halfway through her sentence and Joan heard her muttering from the other room.

  “That woman is a terror and should not be allowed around people.” Meg told Joan as she came back into the warm kitchen where they had three metal tubs set up to wash the children in.

  Joan could tell Meg was stalling, there was more than her anger at Mrs. Rasnake causing that crease between Meg’s tired eyes. Joan expected the news wasn’t good and wished Joan would get on with it. The longer Meg stewed over the news the more anxious Joan grew.

  Finally, Meg gave a mournful sigh and looked at Joan. Joan braced herself, seeing the tears in Meg’s eyes.

  “Anne’s baby was stillborn. I didn’t even know she’d been in labor. Mrs. Rasnake called to ask Robert to say a prayer for her. Not Anne or the baby but for herself. She hung up before I could ask about Anne.” Meg said bluntly, coming to the conclusion that trying to soften the blow wouldn’t work.

  Joan gave a stricken cry, her worst fear realized for her friend. Joan put a hand over her mouth, realizing too late that the hand held a wet wash cloth and spattered herself with water. Wiping at the water Joan looked over at Meg with horror.

  “How terrible! And you weren’t able to ask that hideous woman a thing. We should go and see Anne tomorrow.” Joan said, wanting to support her friend.

  Joan’s gentle kindnesses were one of the reasons Meg loved her so dearly. Still, she wondered if it would be kind to visit Anne now, in their states, the promise of life resting in their bellies where Anne’s was now empty.

  “Do you think that would be wise?” Meg asked, trying to hint at her concern, scrubbing little Simon’s head as Joan washed little Mary’s.

  “Because we’re pregnant? I don’t think it can hurt. I didn’t resent it when I lost mine.” Joan said, knowing she’d appreciated the kindness of a visit.

  “We are all different though. But if you’d like to go we can.” Meg conceded, pulling Simon out of the water and sending him off wrapped in a towel as little Michael stepped into the water.

  “It’s settled then. Can you get a sitter?” Joan asked, sudsing up little Lisa’s head as Mary walked over to the fire to dry her long hair.

  “Yes, it won’t be a problem. Now, little Michael, I believe you need a haircut; you’ll be getting that tomorrow son. Rinse your hair darling, come on that’s a good boy.” Meg coaxed her son, knowing they still had five more children to get through.

  Joan didn’t get to visit with Anne the next morning, her own labor starting that night. Joan was terrified to see her legs covered in fluids in the middle of the night, although she knew what it meant. She woke up Scott with calm, however, wanting her husband to remain peaceful, even if she was screaming in fear on the inside.

  The pains came quickly together and Joan knew enough by now to know she needed to get to the hospital quickly. Scott drove like a demon and the doctor was called in to attend to Joan. The nurses assured Joan all was going according to plan and tried to make her comfortable.

  “Everything is just fine, Joan,” the unknown woman said. “Your baby will soon be here and you’ll be a mother my dear.”

  The woman then disappeared and left Joan and Scott alone with their thoughts. Joan retreated to her own little world, Scott holding her hand from a chair, as the pains grew in intensity and frequency. Her terror grew when the doctor came in tutting.

  “No, this will never do, nurses, prepare the OR. We have to get her in now.” Doctor Nelson spoke from behind a mask.

  Joan’s terror turned into outright panic and she clenched at Scott’s hands, Anne’s worries suddenly making sense to Joan. Anne had been terrified the doctor was trying to take her baby but they’d all tried to assure her everything was fine and Doctor Nelson was a good man. The nurses had said everything was going fine, according to plan even, and now the doctor comes in, takes one look, and insists on surgery?

  “Don’t let them take me, Scott, something’s wrong here, take me to another hospital, anything but get me out of here!” She pleaded with her husband her eyes filled with fear.

  Scott made to do as his wi
fe asked but Doctor Nelson stopped him.

  “Mr. Parker, if you take your wife out of this hospital you could cause her death and I will ensure you are prosecuted, sir. I’m sorry but she needs surgery.” The doctor said sternly, his eyes boring into Scott with threat.

  “What’s wrong with her exactly?” Scott asked, confused and uncertain.

  “She’s hemorrhaging. She will bleed to death if we don’t stop the bleeding.” The doctor said, standing in a way that hid Joan’s spread thighs from Scott’s view.

  The blood drained from Scott’s face and he moved out of the doctor’s way. He wouldn’t look at Joan as she screamed at him for help, her cries filling the entire wing of the hospital. Her cries broke Scott’s heart but he didn’t want his wife to bleed to death. He wanted the doctor to save her and so he held his hands over his ears as they wheeled his wife away.

  An hour later the nurse came to him and tore his world apart. The child had died and Joan was in critical condition. Then the woman walked away briskly. Scott sat in the hallway, his world devastated, his best friend, his wife, his love out of his reach and no other friends around to comfort him. It wasn’t until 9 am the next morning that the doctor came to take him to Joan.

  “Can I see the child?” Scott asked the doctor before he left, staring down at his wife.

  Joan refused to look at him, as if she was in a catatonic state. She apparently wasn’t responding even to pain, staring only to the right, not looking at anyone, not crying, and not speaking. Totally in her own world and refusing to interact with the world around her. Doctor Nelson had already recommended electro-shock therapy to Scott, to “bring Joan out of her stupor.”

  For a week Scott tried to talk his wife out of her state, bringing her flowers and candies, all of the things men were supposed to do for their women but nothing worked. Joan refused to budge and Scott, at his wits end finally agreed to the treatment the doctor recommended. He simply wanted what was best for Joan and this catatonic life wasn’t it.

  Scott felt a small niggle of worry that maybe this was all wrong but he was a simple man. He believed the doctor’s words and didn’t question them. Watching as the nurse took Joan away Scott hoped he’d soon see his wife again, back to her normal smiling self.

  Unlike Anne’s experience with EST Joan’s was controlled and administered with care. The experience was still traumatic but Scott noticed an improvement immediately. Joan wasn’t completely normal but she did finally speak to him.

  “Take me home.” That was all she said with a hard look in her eye that Scott had never seen before. She started crying as he pulled into the driveway and Scott gave her one of the pills the doctor had called “mother’s little helper”. She went to bed and went to sleep, never even glancing back at Scott.

  Over the weeks Meg came to visit but even that didn’t cheer Joan up. Joan seemed to have given up on life and though she’d talk to Scott it was only to respond to his questions. Deep inside Joan knew what had happened to her and her baby. The doctor had taken her to the OR where she’d delivered a healthy live baby then he’d cut her open after knocking her out with anesthesia. The next morning the nurse and the doctor both assured her none of that had ever happened, that her baby had been delivered by C-section, she’d never heard her baby cry because it had been born dead and deformed. She knew her one chance at being a mother had been stolen from her and that her baby had been stolen as well. She suspected the same had been done to Anne.

  She’d heard the whispers while she was in the hospital, heard Anne’s screams for her child. She didn’t want the same treatment as Anne had received so she kept quiet. Meg also blamed Scott but felt tremendously guilty over it. Her resentment of him grew daily, however, and the only way she could cope was to retreat from the world where her best friend, her husband, did not protect her but delivered her, over and over, to her tormentors.

  Scott’s nerves became fraught and day by day, as the house deteriorated and Joan deteriorated Scott finally called on Doctor Nelson again. The man had Joan admitted to the hospital and more EST was given. Then came the call in the middle of the night, asking if Joan had come home. Where was Joan, the nurse asked. Scott had no idea.

  Chapter Seven

  Meg went into labor two days after Joan, her worry over both of her friends, and the stress of coping on her own, proving too much for Meg to deal with alone and the babies she was carrying decided it was time to come into the world. She called one of the women from the church to come sit with the children until Robert came home then went into the hospital on her own, her bag in hand.

  In her mind, deep down where nobody could see it, Meg was terrified, in her own way, but her previous experiences had taught her well. She knew everything was fine and expected little trouble form the birth experience. She clamped down on her worries and headed into her room with the same stoic fortitude that had got her this far in life. None of those present would have guessed that deep inside Meg was still screaming in terror like a young woman giving birth for the first time.

  Humming a country tune to herself about staying on the straight and narrow Meg walked behind the nurse into a dimly lit room, put her bag in the closet and changed into more appropriate attire for giving birth in. Wondering if her husband had made it home yet Meg calmly counted the seconds between her pains and waited for the doctor.

  The nurse came in to check Meg’s progress and didn’t say much before disappearing out of the room. Meg shifted in the bed, uncomfortable but knowing the time was coming when she’d have to use all of her strength. An hour later, when Meg was certain the first child was on the verge of hanging out of her body, the doctor arrived.

  “Hmph. No, this won’t do. Nurse, you know what you need to do.” Without another word to Meg the doctor left and she was suddenly being rolled into another room.

  “Wait! Stop! What is going on? Why am I in here, everything is fine.” Meg protested but none of those present would listen to her. Then the world slipped away as a mask was placed over her face and she breathed in. One minute everything was fine, she was in her room with one baby on the way, and in the next everything was going black.

  When Meg woke up the nurse was wheeling one of her daughters in to her, wrapped tightly in a hospital blanket, her little face scrunched up, the baby made Meg smile.

  “Oh she’s precious! I’m naming this one Bella, where’s her sister then? Or was it a boy?” Meg asked the pain in her abdomen forgotten as she looked down at the face of her little angel. Meg had never felt so much love for one of her children at birth. This baby was special, she just knew it. The nurse didn’t answer so Meg looked up questioningly, wondering what was taking the woman so long to answer.

  Nurse Pracket, for once in her long life, looked slightly mournful. Not a kind person she usually took great pleasure in causing others pain but something about Meg made the cold hard woman melt just a little. She placed the baby in Meg’s arms without speaking, fussing with the covers and making sure Meg had a good grip on the baby before taking hold of the cart once more. The nurse couldn’t look at Meg so her words were spoken to the open doorway.

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Skaggs, the other child, also a girl, did not survive her birth. We can take care of the arrangements if you like.” Nurse Pracket walked out just before Meg’s tears started, for once not leaving out of cruelty but to escape before the other woman started to sob and she had to hear it. Closing the door quietly behind her, Nurse Pracket left the room, a grim expression on her face.

  Meg’s quiet sobs were heartfelt, feeling a true sense of loss for the child she’d never even seen, but as she looked down at Bella, sweet and tiny Bella, her heart sang and her pain eased just a little. The baby was waving her tiny little fists, her eyes scrunched up, and Meg bared her breast, giving the little girl what she needed most.

  Meg smoothed the baby’s fine hair as she suckled and sang hymns to her, until Bella’s breathing evened out and her sucking slowed. Meg watched her daughter sleep, her breaths
coming in and out of her tiny little nose, and counted her tiny daughters fingers and toes as she checked all of the things mothers checked on their new babies. Bella was perfect.

  Meg loved all of her children, as she should, but Bella somehow was different. The sweet feeling of instant love had never taken hold of her with the other children. The love had come with time, for Meg, though she’d cared for them and nurtured them as she should. Her tenth child finally brought her the love and adoration she’d been told about, expected to feel, but had never quite experienced before.

  Meg refused to allow Bella out of her room for the rest of her stay, even when the doctor came in to examine his handiwork with her stitches. He explained that a C-section had to be to be done but Meg clearly remembered feeling the head of one of the babies between her legs before the doctor had come to take her into the surgery.

  Meg was also saddened by the cries of the other two women in the hospital ward with her and went to visit both. Anne was asleep, and Meg didn’t like the look of her, something was definitely wrong there. And Joan. Poor Joan just wailed for her baby and had to be drugged to keep her quiet.

  Meg thought it was odd that both women’s children had died and that one of her own had but did not question the doctor’s veracity. She had been raised to trust doctors and preachers. They would not lie; there was no reason for them to, after all. These men answered to a higher calling and accusing them of being unkind or less than honest was tantamount to a sin in Meg’s mind.

  Poor Anne was sent home, a drooling mess that Meg prayed for sincerely. The vacant, staring woman was nothing like the vibrant sweet woman Meg had known. This was almost a monster, a soulless monster that had come to take Anne’s place. Meg could barely look upon the caricature, her heart breaking for the sad state the woman was now left in.