Part of me knew it was a dream. Just a dream. Just the same stupid nightmare I'd had over and over for months now. But when I was asleep, it was as though I was there; living it all over again. I never woke myself up in time.
It began the way it always did. I just had time to hope it would be the short version. Just a flash of the accident. Not the director's cut. Not tonight, please…I was sucked under waves of roiling dark and forgot I was dreaming at all.
"It's all wrong." Mum's voice is strange, despairing. "This isn't how it’s meant to be…"
"What do you mean? Mum? Mum!" I am terrified by the expression on her face. Empty, unfocused. We'd been arguing. Suddenly she had broken off and said that. It was eerie. Like it wasn't Mum talking at all.
"Emlynn? What's happening?" Amy's voice is pinched and high with fright. She leans around my seat to peer at Mum.
"Amy put your seat belt back on!" My voice is a taut cable. Something bad is going to happen.
"But -"
"Just do it!"
I hear the snap of her seatbelt buckle slotting into place. I can't look. I'm focused entirely on Mum's face. Her eyes are wide and blank. I swear that her right eye looks bigger somehow…My gaze hits the speedometer. The red needle inches past eighty, faster…Mum just sits there, gripping the wheel, oblivious.
"Mum? MUM!" I reach over and shake her. Trees and dry stone walls are rushing past in a terrifying grey-brown blur. Mum doesn't react.
"Mum stop! Stop! Slow down! You're scaring us! MUM!" Can she hear me? It's like I'm not even here. A sharp bend is galloping towards us. On the left behind a thin, scrubby hedge, the hillside drops away in a steep slope littered with chunks of granite.
"MUM!" I scream. I lurch for the steering wheel. If I can just…She thrusts my hands away. Finally turns to me.
"Love you Emlynn. And you Amy. This is for the best. None of us has to suffer anymore." She smiles faintly and slams the accelerator pedal to the floor. Takes her hands off the wheel.
The whippy little hedge hardly slows us at all. The edge of the drop rears up. For a moment we're in glorious flight. Stomach, heart, lungs, all trying to escape through my throat. I can hear Amy screaming behind me and I want her to shut up because I can't scream. I can't breathe. Not happening…this can't be happening…
The car comes down and flips. The world is a confused tunnel of rolling images and noise, turned over and over. I feel something in my shoulder give with a wet 'pop' as the seatbelt whips me back. My arm makes a muted snapping noise. Metal squeals…the car is screaming now…
Amy has stopped making any noise at all. But she's alright. She must be alright because nothing bad can happen to Amy. Not to my little sister. Not to me. Or Mum…
The abrupt silence is worse than the screaming. I hang upside down…my arm dangles, useless…thoughts, slow and stupid. Smell of hot metal and burnt rubber. Metal taste on tongue. I twist towards Mum...
No no no no! I don't want…not this…not again…
No!
I jolted upright in bed, gasping and covered in sweat. A long shuddery inhale and I palmed away the tears on my cheeks. This was when I cried now. When I had this dream. The nightmare clung in sour strands and I counted my breaths as I had been taught to do when I felt panicky.
Amy and I had never told anyone what Mum said right before the accident. We didn't plan to keep it quiet, we just didn't mention it. I didn't want Dad knowing it was suicide. I didn't know how to approach him anymore; he was so god-squad now. It had been bad enough when they were talking about divorce.
My sessions with the hospital counsellor had ended when we moved to Yorkshire. They hadn't been much use. I had sat there trying to make coherent sentences. The counsellor had tried not to let his irritation with my stammer show. He hid it better than most people did. I had usually sunk into grey sullenness after half an hour of red-faced struggling.
It wasn't like I'd wanted to talk about it anyway.
My pulse rate was almost back to normal. I saw there was a book lying open on my desk. Not just any book - the next one on Mum's reading list. I frowned, sure I'd put that away without opening it. I just wouldn’t. Not one of Mum's books. Not yet. Amy maybe? It couldn't have been Grace. I snorted to myself. Kicking the tangled, sweat-damp sheets aside, I crossed the room. Moonlight poured in the open window like spilled milk. I slapped the book shut, slid it on to the shelf, and then paused.
I didn't open the window.
And I definitely drew the curtains before going to bed.
I shivered. Colder than it should be, even with the window open. My sweat soaked T-shirt clung like an icy shroud. My breath hung on the air in silver ribbons.
I wasn't alone.
The skin on my spine prickled.
Okay. This isn't your first haunted house.
The first one I've lived in. And this is my room!
Yeah, well maybe the ghost doesn't know that.
And really a few misty shapes and a couple of moved objects were more of an annoyance than something to fear, weren't they? Weren't they? Oh God, I wasn't prepared for this. My gut was roiling as though I was motion sick. It was never this bad before the accident…
Don't think about that now. You're not afraid.
Yeah right.
Get it together. Close the window. Then turn on the light.
Sensible. So why wasn't I moving? Black dots swam before my eyes. I gulped in a glacial lungful of air. Stupid, stupid. Forgot to breathe. Come on. Window.
I stepped toward the window seat. Not going to freak out. Not. Just close the window, that's all. Simple. I half-recoiled as a dark arm slid across the glass, before I realized that it was a tree branch. With a shaky chuckle, I leaned from the window seat to grab the latch. It felt like I'd plunged my arm into ice water.
I Belong to the Earth (Unveiled Book 1) Page 4