My mind turns and blooms with remembrance. The green walls, the pools of water, the hospital. I was running, running from someone. A shadow of sorts, but I could make out the chess piece upon his flesh. I am eager to flee, but I don’t feel so well. My stomach gurgles and I expect to be sick soon.
A hammer is pounding in my forehead. It won’t stop. I place a hand over it.
The door to the bedroom opens and someone is speaking. “We were able to get the—"
Our eyes lock and he suddenly stops, frozen by our unintended meeting.
It’s Mr. Reynolds, except dressed in dark slacks, a collared white shirt, and a red blazer. A fear erupts through me, but I can’t place it, perhaps because of the awkwardness of this unplanned encounter.
“What on earth is he doing here?” My outrage is instant and carries well in my voice, but it is short-lived. The feeling in my stomach is growing, the same as my headache.
Robert looks over his shoulder and exhales a long sigh. When he looks back at me, he appears annoyed.
“You brought him back? I fired him.”
“We can’t let Mr. Reynolds go right now.”
“But I already let him go. He was rude and arrogant, even if he was trying to help. He should have explained himself.”
“Not now, okay? Tomorrow I will explain everything.”
Then I understand my indecipherable fear of Mr. Reynolds. He is the spitting image of the soldier who was going to take my life. But Mr. Crestfield had walloped him with the shovel. I thought he was dead, yet here he is standing in good health. What treacherous game is being played here?
“Why did you try to kill me?”
He stands with his hands shaking, rattled by my identification.
“No wonder you were wearing a hood. Trying to conceal the truth.” I turn to Robert. “He tried to kill me.” Then I remember him down-playing the entire incident as if a soldier in the home was merely a figment of my imagination.
“This isn’t good,” Robert sighs. “Isn’t good at all.” There is pity in his eyes as he looks at me. “I thought this could work, but I know now it simply won’t.”
Mr. Reynolds can’t help himself. “So you jeopardize the entire mission with your selfish desires? What is wrong with you?”
There is a strange conversation brewing, the type which wouldn’t be had between butler and homeowner.
“Not in front of her, Mr. Reynolds.” He stands visibly upset.
“You aren’t my husband.” The words are out as soon as I realize it. My stare returns to him.
“You couldn’t just shut up, could you?” He turns to Mr. Reynolds, irate.
“You aren’t my husband.” I begin to move my legs. These people aren’t who they seem. None of this has made sense from the beginning. This house, my identity, my husband, none of the staff, no wonder I couldn’t remember any of it.
I don’t know any of them. Never had known any of them. There was nothing to be remembered, yet strangely some items I had recognized.
Robert sees my legs fidgeting under the sheets and grabs both of them firmly. “Bring it,” he says. His voice cracks and I see tears in his eyes.
Mr. Reynolds carries a large set of casters to the bed. They are perfectly fitted for my legs. Between the two of them, they overpower me, and snap them into place. The movement of my legs are restricted and I remember this same feeling in the hospital dream.
“You’re going to kill me,” I shriek with despair.
“Quiet Penny! No, we aren’t going to kill you. Please don’t think this way.” Robert crouches at my side, pleading with me. “Mr. Reynolds was a test. The soldier was simply a test. Nothing more.”
“He fired a gun at me.”
“Not at you, Penny. Never at you.”
“Why?” My mind is reeling. “Why put me through such a horrible experience?”
A consuming excitement, a startled passion, engulfs his face. The answer is on the tip of his tongue. “We had to try.”
“No, we didn’t.” Mr. Reynolds spits the words in disgust. “If you hadn’t tried to make her believe you were her husband, it would have been less stress on the subject. It might have worked.”
The subject?
Robert closes his eyes, reminiscing over the mistake.
These golden nuggets of truth make me dig for more confirmation. “I’ve never been in a coma.”
Neither of them answer, but their eyes stick like glue to me. They don’t have to respond; my intuition is correct.
I shut my eyes and clench my teeth as the intensity of my gurgling stomach grows inside. “What did you give me?” I roll over onto my side.
On the nightstand, next to the lamp, sits the blue vial from my nightmare.
Closing my eyes, I’m shocked to discover I can’t reopen them. My arms won’t move.
I can feel the gurney sliding out of the room. It is rumbling down the stairs. The jittery bed is keeping me from drowning in sleep.
Robert’s voice again, “Back to the conservatory. We must complete the modification.”
The reason for my trembling in that room of glass is realized. I had been there before.
I’m beyond frightened as I return to the clutches of sleep. Help me. Who am I? Who can help me?
A Note from Timothy Moonlight
Thank you for reading Harrowed Dreams – The Penny Prelude Secret #1, an exclusive novella for the Moonlight Community! If you enjoyed this novella, would you mind leaving a review? I would greatly appreciate it! Reviews don’t need to have perfect grammar, they just need to come from the heart.
Here is the link: https://motivationbymoonlight.com/harrowed-dreams-tpps1/
Reviews can be left at the bottom of the page.
Expect to hear more from Penny later on; her adventure is far from over.
Remember, when you see moonlight, a novel is in the making…
Harrowed Dreams Page 8