Pretty Girl-13

POSSESSION




YESTERDAY LYNN AND I HAD TALKED ABOUT CUTTING BACK to one day a week, both of us thinking that most of the hard work was behind us. Guess we were wrong. Way wrong. I needed her now.

My heart pounded with the realization that as exhausted as I was, as heavily as I should have slept, the mad rocker still had the power to wake up my body and take over. And that was unacceptable.

Mom called again from the top of the stairs. “Are you actually out of bed, at long last?”

“Yes. Down in a minute,” I grouched.

“You said that last time.”

“I’m up!” I yelled.

“Dad’s out in the garden, cutting back the roses. Maybe you could help him,” she called. Like that would make me enthusiastic about getting out of bed. “It’s a beautiful day,” she added in a singy way.

Maybe for her. She was still on an emotional high from yesterday. But not for me—everything had shattered overnight. I had to consult with Lynn, privately, where Mom couldn’t overhear. Between Dad, the baby, and Christmas, she had enough on her mind. Telling her I wasn’t as well as we thought I was—No. Not yet.

So when she retreated to the kitchen, I grabbed the upstairs phone from Dad’s den. Safely behind closed doors, I called Lynn’s emergency patient contact number.

She answered immediately. “Is this Angie?” Right. Caller ID.

“Hey, Lynn. I have some news.” My voice came out soft and strained. “Remember the trouble I used to have with the mad rocker?” It was a rhetorical question, but I waited anyway.

“Sure I do, Angie. Of course.”

“And remember how none of the alters ever confessed to doing it, even though we were pretty sure it was Girl Scout? Well, guess what?”

“It wasn’t,” she said. “Of course.”

“Bingo. It wasn’t. Because it’s someone else. I lost time again, Lynn. Last night. I lost almost two hours—and that’s just when I was awake. She stole my whole night’s sleep. I don’t know what to do.”

Lynn’s soothing voice had just as much effect over the phone. “We can deal with this. It’s going to be okay, Angie. Don’t panic. Do you need to see me before our regular time? Can your Mom drive you in for an extra session? Today? I can meet you any time. The only thing I had planned was Christmas shopping, and, of course, that can wait.”

“I’ll check. Can you hang on?”

I ran downstairs, trying to think of a reasonable excuse to tell Mom why I needed an emergency session. Inspiration struck on the landing, so by the time I got to the kitchen, I was ready. “Mom, can you please take me in to see Dr. Grant? I had an awful nightmare last night. That’s why I didn’t sleep well. It brought up all sorts of scary thoughts, and then I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“You poor thing,” Mom said. “Of course.”

We hopped into the car half an hour later, my hair dripping wet from the shower. I could tell she wanted to ask me more about the dream, so I made up a story about being stuck inside a cocoon with the air running out. My chest did feel tight and breathless with anxiety. That much was true.

“Haunted!” I told Lynn. “That’s how I feel. I’m an old house with a spirit still rattling around in the attic.”

She gave me a gentle and sympathetic smile, her specialty. “Any clues at all?”

I wracked all the corners of my brain. Spit it out, I told myself. No more secrets. But the memories I’d absorbed didn’t cover this. If there was another alter, Girl Scout and Tattletale didn’t know her. The literal doorway of communication Girl Scout used to share with Little Wife convinced me that Little Wife hadn’t known about her either, although come to think of it, Little Wife had mentioned being sent away and replaced for some time. That was suspicious. Very suspicious, because now I knew Girl Scout wasn’t the one who replaced her. How did I know? Because I held no memories at all of that time.

And Angel—he’d said something weird. What was it? Called forth by one of the other alters, he said, when the man did something so unforgivable. Which led me to ask, what could be more unforgivable than what he’d already done to me?

I knuckled my eyes till swirly patterns covered the insides of my eyelids. I reached and explored inside, while Lynn waited patiently. At last, I found the wisp of a possibility. “The Lonely One—that’s all I know,” I told her. “Angel said he was called forth by the Lonely One. I didn’t hear it with capital letters when he said it, though. I guess I just thought he meant one of the others. Little Wife, I guess, since she complained when the man left her alone.” I pictured his beautiful face and gleaming whiteness. A lump rose in my throat. There was only silence where his presence used to be. The emptiness turned my stomach queasy. “It’s too late, Lynn. We can’t ask him. He’s totally gone.”

I flumped over my knees and hugged them, feeling small and weak without him. “We screwed up.” Tears dribbled onto the carpet.

Lynn patted my back in a sort of maternal way, but more awkward. “I’m sorry, Angie. I thought we were doing the right thing. Don’t worry. We’ll get to the heart of this, one way or another. It’ll just take more time without Angel’s help. Do you want to try a hypnosis session?”

“Maybe Monday. Can we just talk?” I asked. “I really, really don’t want to go away from my head right now.”

So we talked about whether I missed Little Wife and Angel. And I suppose from the amount of tears that ended up on my sleeves, the answer was yes.

Kate caught up with me right after my Earth Science exam. “You look horrible,” she said, in the way only a best friend can. “Trouble in paradise?” She motioned with her head to where the guys were exchanging one set of books for another at their lockers.

“What? Abraim? Trouble? No. He’s great. That’s great. We’re great,” I stuttered. “We saw each other twice this weekend.”

“Make any progress?” She elbowed me with a wink.

I blushed, remembering the feel of his warm hands on the small of my back, darting under my sweater to explore as we kissed good night. I could still imagine every fingertip tracing gentle circles.

Kate took one look at my expression and snorted a laugh. “Never mind. You already answered.” She glanced back to see the twins heading our way. “Is that why you look so exhausted? Too much loooove?”

“I wish,” I whispered next to her ear. “The mad rocker is back.” She’d spent all Saturday and Sunday night dragging me out of bed, torturing my body, which should have been in bed resting up for exams.

“What? I thought that was all taken care of.”

“Me too.” I couldn’t help heaving my shoulders dramatically. “But no. Apparently, my demons from the past aren’t done with me. I’m still possessed.”

“Wow, that sucks. I wish there was something I could do to help.” She gave me a helpless, sad smile. “Maybe we could go running later? That always clears my head. I mean … oh, how stupid. I didn’t mean—”

If only it were that easy. “Shush. The guys.” I waved her to silence before they were close enough to hear.

Ali planted a kiss on Kate, regardless of the PDA rules. Abraim raised his eyebrows at me, kissing me only with the light in his eyes, but I felt my lips tingle, all the same.

“How was your exam this morning?” he asked.

“Easy,” I replied. “Hardly interesting enough to keep me awake.” A huge yawn burst from my mouth. “Thank God I’m done for today. Two harder exams tomorrow, though. World Civ and English. I’ve got pages of vocab to review.”

“Need a ride home?” Ali asked. “We’re done too. We could take you.”

I glanced at the hall clock. “My mom’s picking me up in an hour. I’ve got somewhere to go.”

Kate patted my arm and made meaningful eye contact. “Have to exorcise?”

My chest clenched, and for a moment, it felt like I was having a heart attack. “Ah.” I gasped in pain. My vision started to darken. My head swam. My knees buckled.

Kate’s grip tightened, holding me up. “Ange, what’s the matter?”

Abraim’s arm came around me from the other side. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Don’t let me hit the floor if I faint,” I muttered to him. He held me tight against his chest while I caught my breath, concentrated on holding on to myself. The pain vanished as suddenly as it had struck. My eyes refocused on the worried faces of Ali and Kate.

“Whoa, that was weird. Sorry, guys. I just got a muscle cramp and couldn’t catch my breath.” Sort of.

The boys threw me alarmed and sympathetic looks, and Kate dived into her purse for an ibuprofen. That was fine. I let the misunderstanding go. A chest cramp would be much harder to talk my way out of, and anyway, it had stopped.

My friend cluster insisted on driving me straight home, and Abraim pressed my hand quietly in the backseat. His dark eyes told me he still had questions for me but wouldn’t bring them up in front of his brother. Before I got out of the car, he pulled me tight and kissed me on the lips, the first time he’d done that in front of anyone else. “Call me later,” he insisted. “When you’re back from the gym. I need to be sure you really are okay.”

Mom took her usual seat in Lynn’s waiting room and picked up a magazine she had read cover to cover several times already. For God’s sake, the woman worked in a library. She could have brought a new book to pass the time. Then again, she probably couldn’t concentrate anyway, sitting out there wondering what went on in the room. Lynn was sworn to secrecy, and I wasn’t volunteering details, even though most of Mom’s salary went to paying for my therapy.

“I have a plan,” I announced to Lynn. I plopped down on the couch. “All you have to do is get me started.”

We’d done so much hypnosis and guided imagery that it was ridiculously easy for me to lose the office and slip into my head, into the special place where I’d met my alters. Lonely One must be nearby, and I suspected the one logical place to look for her.

I took myself back to the cabin porch, the sunny blue and yellow porch, which looked undisturbed. But the door, the door that only Angel could use, was cracked an inch. I’d never seen it left open before.

Cobwebs spun across the opening wavered in the morning breeze. My hand reached up and pulled the doorknob. The door swung outward with a creak and a crash against the cabin. There was motion inside. A shaft of sunlight pierced the interior darkness, lighting up a hunched figure in the middle of the space. A rhythmic sound reached my ears—rocking, rocking. Runners on a hardwood floor.

I stepped into the gloom. A low oil lamp burned on the floor in the corner, casting a long, flickering shadow on the far wall.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice hardly above a whisper.

Her head unbent. Our eyes met, at last. So this was the Lonely One, my mad rocker. Tears stained her cheeks. Her face was my face, twin of the one that greeted me in the morning, but yellowed by the weak flame.

She held a bundle in her arms and raised it toward me. Did she want me to have it? I moved a step forward, took the soft bundle. A blanket. An empty blue-and-white-checked blanket. Strangely familiar. It collapsed in my hands and fell to the floor.

“Who are you?” she sobbed in an echo of my voice. “Where’s my Angel?”

“He’s gone. He won’t be coming back anymore.”

“NO!” She wept and reached for the empty blanket.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “He was too violent, too uncontrolled. He couldn’t stay.”

“But who will find my baby?” she whispered. “Where is my baby?” She rolled the blanket into the sausage shape of an infant and cuddled it to her shoulder.

Oh God. That blanket.

She pressed her face against it, devastated with loss. “I sent the Angel to find my sweet baby.”

Oh merciful God. It wasn’t possible.

“The man took him from my arms.”

“Angie, Angie.” Lynn shook my shoulder. “Can you hear me?” Her voice pulled me back into myself. I fought her, pulling away into the dark again.

“Impossible!” I screamed. Sammy’s blanket.

“Angie, what’s happening? Come back.” Lynn’s command faded away.

Lonely One grabbed my arm with unexpected strength, and a brutal spasm bent me double in agony. Deep, knifelike pain in the gut stole my breath. I twisted and screamed, finding myself on the bed. The bed was slicked with blood, and the tearing pain in my belly went on and on. I gasped for a sip of air. Nothing in my life had ever hurt like this. In front of me, head bowed, white-knuckled hands clenched on my knees, the man said, “Push now. Push hard, my love.” And I pushed and pushed and screamed and felt the pressure shift.

And then a slippery and squalling newborn was in my arms, and the pain fled, and the bliss as I saw the little red face was immeasurable.

“Ah. A boy,” the man said. “Feed him.” He pushed the tiny mouth toward my swollen, aching breasts.

And I rocked and rocked, and cuddled him in his blanket, and fed him and loved him until the day the man said, “This just isn’t working out. You have no more time for me.” And he ripped the bundle out of my arms. My heart shattered like dropped porcelain.

Lonely One released me. The connection broke. The cascade ended. Shock waves pulsed through my skull. The imprint of her grip bruised my arm. I staggered back from the dim room into the doorway.

Lonely One rose to follow me. “I have to come out,” she said. “To find him.”

“No. You can’t,” I gasped. “No more.”

I slammed the door closed. I knew what to do. Anything was possible here. Boards and nails lay waiting right where I needed them. A hammer appeared.

Lynn called, “Angie. Angela. Now.”

“No. Not yet,” I yelled at her. I whacked and whacked at the nails, sealing the door shut with boards. It turned the cabin forlorn and derelict. Gray again. Forbidding. That was fine. I was done with it. As long as Lonely One stayed trapped in there, no one needed to know.

Except me. Because now I knew her secret pain, the ache that made her rock all night with empty arms. And I knew where her baby was. I just had no idea what to do about it.