Turning Grace (The Turning Series, Book 1)

by J.Q. Davis

  Chapter 15

  The Death

  “Grace Elizabeth Watkins! Wake up right now!”

  I opened my eyes. Tristen shot up to a sitting position, which made me chuckle inside. He was afraid of what my mom would think. If only he knew what she already thought of him. I was sure she would think badly of any guy close to me.

  “What time is it?” I asked, still feeling groggy.

  “It’s time for you to tell me what the hell is going on! Why are you sleeping with him on my couch?” Oh, she was pissed.

  “Mom, it’s not like that. We had a long night. You don’t have to yell.”

  “I’m going to make some lunch,” she stated angrily and headed towards the kitchen.

  “Seriously? Mom, I’m not hungry.”

  She turned around quickly, stunned. “What? Grace, what happened?”

  Tristen and I glanced at each other. This was it. This was the moment of truth, for both me and my mom. I wasn’t sure what I was more afraid of: Telling my mother that her daughter was a murderer or finding out what I truly am.

  Mom sat down on the love seat, not breaking her stare into my eyes. I knew she was bracing herself for the worst, and she was going to get it.

  “Mom, I…I need to know what is wrong with me.” Okay, so I chickened out. Just for now though.

  “Grace, it’s very complicated.”

  “Mom. I need to know. Whatever it is, it’s ruining my life. Complicated or not, I need to know and understand what is making my body change and do these crazy things.”

  “What crazy things?” she asked suspiciously.

  Tristen and I glanced at each other again before I answered. “Something terrible happened last night. Something…something that I don’t understand.” My heart grew heavy.

  “Gracie. You are scaring me. What happened?” Her patience was growing thin.

  “Ms. Watkins, we need to know why Grace did what she did and what we can do to fix it,” Tristen said.

  Mom’s eyes darted over to Tristen. “Excuse me, but why are you here? This is between my daughter and I. This doesn’t concern you.”

  “As a matter of fact Mom, he should be here. He killed someone to save my life last night.”

  My mother’s expression morphed into horror. I probably should not have blurted it out the way I did, but Tristen saved my life and he was sticking with me.

  I took a deep breath. “Mom, listen to me. Last night was…it was…”

  “Ms. Watkins, last night was hard,” Tristen continued. “Some things happened and we need to know why it happened. Is there anything you can tell us?” Tristen asked. I was grateful for his chiming in.

  “Well, tell me, Grace.”

  Might as well just pull the Band-Aid away fast. “Sonny and I got into a fight. I bit her arm. Almost all of it. And ate it. Then we went to Eric’s house to hide from the police. In the middle of the night, I…I killed Phoebe and ate her.” I swallowed hard and tried not to reminisce on the way her flesh melted into my taste buds. “When Eric woke up, he tried to choke me to death and Tristen hit him with a baseball bat and killed him. Now we are here.”

  I cannot recall a time that I had ever seen my mother’s appearance this way. I guess if I could describe it in one word, I would say…pissedfrightenedworriedperplexedstunned. Yeah, that would sum it up.

  “Mom, please tell me. Tell me what is wrong and how we can fix it. I am terrified of what is going to happen next.”

  Mom looked away, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. She was hurt most of all, I could tell. I gave her a moment to collect her thoughts. I knew this information was way too much for anyone to handle.

  She wiped away a fallen tear from her cheek with her finger. “When you were five, you got really, very sick one day. You couldn’t eat a thing. You vomited everything your tiny little body had in it. I figured it could have just been a stomach virus, so I let another day go by. When you were the same way the next day, I tried to hydrate you myself, giving you medicine and plenty of fluids. On the third day, you were still ill and I decided to take you to the Children’s Hospital. You were in there for a week and no one could figure out what was wrong. You couldn’t keep anything down and you were losing pounds by the minute.” She stood up and walked over to the mantel, grabbing an old photo of me in her hands.

  “I was so disappointed in myself. How could I let my baby girl get so sick? I was a doctor for God’s sake. But we finally figured out what it was. The Rotavirus.”

  I remembered the medical file hidden in my mother’s closet. “What is that?” I asked.

  Mom placed the picture frame back on the mantel and sat back down on the love seat. “It’s a virus that many children get. It’s basically like the stomach flu, but can get very severe and cause death if not treated. The doctors tried to get you better, but your little body wouldn’t. ”

  I swallowed hard, suddenly getting an aching feeling that this story would only get worse.

  “I called Dr. Roberson, my colleague. I was a doctor, yes, but it was not my expertise. It wasn’t Mark’s specialty either, but I had nowhere else to turn. I needed someone I could trust and confide in regarding your condition.”

  “Where was Mr. Watkins?” Tristen asked. He was completely engrossed in the story.

  “He was not present at the time. He…he left me.”

  “Why?” I asked. Maybe this was my chance to get answers regarding my father too.

  “It was complicated. I tried to call him. I tried to tell him that you were ill, but I couldn’t reach him.” The heartache that my mother felt for all those years began to show and I realized then how she must have felt. Alone and scared.

  “Mark came the instant I called, but by the time he began his research on your symptoms and reasons for your illness, your condition worsened. You…” She paused to look down at her hands. Tears began streaming down faster.

  “Mom, I what?”

  “You died, Gracie. For twenty-three minutes, you died.”

  My heart thudded in my throat. What was she saying? Tristen wrapped his arm around my body and squeezed me towards him. Did he just hear it too?

  “So…I died?”

  My mother was now sobbing. Something I had never seen her do. “Yes. Yes you did, Gracie.”

  “Well, obviously I’m not dead now. What happened?” My tone was sarcastic, but at the moment feelings of betrayal were coursing through me. How could my mother not tell me this piece of vital information before?

  “At the time, Mark was in the middle of some developmental research. He had been working on a project for an experimental medication. This medication was being created to help resuscitate patients who just expired.”

  “So, instead of CPR, this medication would bring you back to life,” Tristen stated.

  “Exactly. It was an alternative. When injected into the patient, it would revive them. Sort of like what is used when a person is having a severe allergic reaction. Sort of like epinephrine.”

  “So he used it on me?”

  “I didn’t know what else to do. I was desperate to bring you back.”

  “What was the catch? What were the side effects?” I asked. Surely every medication had a side effect.

  “We weren’t sure.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, becoming increasingly confused.

  “Mark had never used it on anyone else. You were his first patient.”

  “You mean, you didn’t know what would happen?” I was pissed. How could she not know what it would do to me? It could have turned me into a unicorn for all she and Dr. Roberson knew.

  “Grace, please don’t be upset,” she pleaded. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Tristen looked over to me. “It worked though, Grace. You’re alive and here right now.”

  “I get it.” I didn’t even want to look at my mother. “Mom, please just tell me when I started to eat animals and humans.”

  “The night I brought you home, you wo
ke up and…this happened.” She lifted her hand in the air to show us the stub of her finger.

  “I did that?”

  “Yes. And I was beside myself. I called Mark and explained what happened after I rushed to the emergency room. He immediately started some research on why you did it. I continued to keep a watchful eye of things that you did and you seemed to be okay, until about a month later.”

  “What did I do?” I asked, afraid of what was coming.

  “I found you in your closet with the remains of your puppy, Lucy.”

  I shook my head in disbelief, completely speechless. Tristen hugged me tighter.

  “After that, Mark and I worked night and day to figure out what was wrong. You were eating regularly, and I was feeding you normal food, but your body was beginning to deteriorate. You were sluggish. Your hair began to fall out. It was like you were aging a thousand times faster than you should have been.”

  “Normal food? What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Normal food meaning, what Tristen and I eat.”

  “I knew it,” Tristen mumbled.

  I turned towards him. “You knew what?”

  “That jerky you gave me last night. It didn’t taste like any jerky I’d ever had.”

  “That’s because it’s not. It’s human meat.”

  I stood up quickly, no longer able to contain myself. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the beef jerky you gave me is from a human? A person?”

  “Yes, Grace. Everything you eat is from a human.”

  Tristen remained seated as I began pacing around the living room. “So you’re saying that everything she eats is from a person. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

  “And snacks and juice. Yes.”

  “Juice? The pomegranate juice? There is human meat in my juice?”

  “It’s blood and fluids from a human,” Mom answered.

  How could this be? “Mom, how can this be? How do you get it? How do you cook it? Tristen and Phoebe have eaten here before.”

  “I acquire it from work,” she stated shamefully. “And the food I give out to your friends is not your food.”

  “You steal dead people?” I asked. Never in my life would I have ever thought I’d ask a question like that.

  “After you had eaten your dog, Lucy, there were some very noticeable changes in your appearance. Your bouncy curls came back. Your coloring was no longer pale. And you were happy and full of energy. A theory was beginning to form. Some research and different methods were performed, and we soon came to realize that human flesh and meat were your source of survival. It was your lifeline.”

  I sat back down beside Tristen. “So you’re saying that the only thing that was keeping me alive was eating humans?”

  She ignored my question and continued on with the story. “Mark and I decided that it would be best for us to move out of California and start over. I wasn’t going to be able to continue my career with my injury. Mark knew someone at the mortuary here who would hire me. ”

  Megan. “Did we have family?”

  “I have a sister. Megan.” Tears formed once again in her eyes. “She has no idea where I am. Where we are.”

  I chose to omit my recent stumble upon Megan’s phone number and actually talking to her. I was not sure what my mother would think about us communicating. And for some reason, I felt like that little bit of information she didn’t know could possibly help me in the future.

  Mom continued. “I studied different tribes and cultures from all over the world that practice cannibalism. I learned how to cook with human meat and flesh and blood. And once I learned, it became all you ate.”

  “So…you steal dead bodies from your work?” I asked again, awaiting her to finally answer it. I obviously knew the answer, but I needed to hear it for it to be real.

  “I take little bits at a time when I am helping to perform autopsies.”

  “But how do you do that without anyone knowing?” Tristen asked.

  “I take small amounts then. And when they are being prepped for funerals, I take some from the waist down.”

  It was making sense to me now. “No one sees that part in the casket,” I mumbled under my breath.

  Mom didn’t respond.

  “What is happening to me now? Why am I so hungry all the time? And why do I want to eat actually moving things?”

  At that moment, the doorbell chimed.

  Panic washed over me, and Tristen and I glanced at each other. They must have found Phoebe and Eric.