Mother of Darkwaters: Book one of the Vessel series

by Tony C. Skye

  Would her parents still accept her if she lived a life which conflicts with their religious beliefs? She would like to think so. But she has heard them speak about homosexuality. They just don't hate it, they loathe it with every fiber within them. Would they then, also, loathe the sight of her? The thought of her? Would she be responsible for bringing her family's name the ultimate disgrace among all of their peers?

  What about Mandie? What happens if Tamara decides to give the both of them an honest try, only to be dumped later? How horrible would it be to target herself among her family, friends, and the student body as a lesbian, then come to find out Mandie is just experimenting and has decided against it? Decided against them? Decided against Tamara?

  Everyone knows life isn't fair. It can be more than cruel. And this applies to the heart. Can she really outweigh the value of the love she has for everyone she has ever known over one person she has just met? That kind of logic doesn't make any sense. Yes, she loves Mandie, at least on some level. So she won't deny that aspect of it. But sometimes love isn't always enough; especially, when the whole world stands against you.

  * * *

  “I spoke to your mother about your medication,” the balding man explains, “She said you were having problems?”

  “It felt like my hand was being shocked. It freaked me out. And I've been feeling drained. I'm tired all of the time.”

  Dr. Evans writes on the pad within his lap. With his eyes still on his work, he continues his line of questioning.

  “And you’re having nightmares again?”

  “Yes,” Caroline admits, “My dream guy ripped my chest open and tried to crawl inside of me.”

  The doctor stops writing. He looks upward without raising his head. Both of his brows are slightly lifted.

  “Your dream guy from the castle?”

  “Same one,” Caroline confirms. She watches her doctor tap the back side of his pen on the pad in his lap.

  “Okay,” Dr. Evans raises his head to more comfortably look upon his client, “I have to be honest with you. Your dosage wasn't very high to begin with. I think we should try you on something else. Give your old medication to your mother. Let her dispose of the prescription.”

  The doctor pauses before continuing, “As for your shock episode, I'm not certain why such a low dose of Valium would do that. There are instances where a part of your body might fall asleep and become tingly, but I assume you would know the difference.”

  “It wasn’t asleep.”

  “Something like that has more to do with bad blood flow than this type of medication,” Dr. Evans elaborates further, “And an athlete as young as you very rarely has blood flow issues.”

  “As a precaution, I'm going to prescribe a lab work up on you to rule out any physical abnormalities.” Dr. Evans sees the fear cross over his patient's eyes, “Don't worry, I personally don't believe there's any problem in that area. But it is part of my job to see you are cared for one-hundred percent.”

  When Caroline's expression seems to calm, Dr. Evans speaks again, “Some medications like Valium can make it tougher for you to wake up whenever you enter your r.e.m. cycle during sleep. This can cause some people to panic. Their consciousness is aware they are asleep, but doesn't have the ability to fully wake the body. This can cause a good dream to turn into a nasty nightmare fairly quickly. I wouldn't read too much into it. It's normal.”

  Dr. Evans looks down to his pad and begins writing again, “But as I said before, these things are usually found within patients taking higher doses of the medication. This is why we're going to eliminate it altogether for you. You just might be one of those people who have a very low tolerance to certain types of medications.”

  The doctor tears off a piece of small paper with the new prescription written on it. He hands it to Caroline, “Are there any more concerns you have?”

  “Not really,” Caroline answers his request, “But just to be clear about it, you think the shock is from my low tolerance of the medication?”

  “I do,” Dr. Evans confirms, “And the blood work is purely to rule out something unforeseen. You'll have to do some running on a treadmill while they check out your heart behavior. But other than that, there won't be much difference than a routine physical like you get in order to be approved for cheerleading.”

  Caroline nods her understanding. She stands and shakes her doctor's hand before heading towards the door. After opening it, Caroline turns and looks at her doctor across the room.

  “Thanks, Dr. Evans,” Caroline shows her appreciation by not calling him doc.

  “You're very welcome, Caroline,” Dr. Evans answers with a smile of appreciation of his own. He watches the girl turn and walk out – quietly closing the door behind herself as she exits into the hallway.

  * * *

  “Is my baby girl going to live?”, Victoria greets her daughter as she enters her office. She watches the senior drop her backpack by the door before carelessly plopping down into one of the two chairs situated in front of her desk.

  “I guess. Got to get a physical on Monday.”

  She hands her mom the piece of paper with the prescription on it, “And he changed my meds.”

  Victoria reads the paper and smiles.

  “What's so funny?”, Caroline doesn't sound too amused.

  Victoria reaches down and grabs her purse. She opens it, searches within, and pulls out a bottle. She looks up and tosses the bottle to her daughter.

  “Prescription filled,” Victoria declares.

  Caroline catches the bottle and reads the label.

  “Tylenol P.M.?”, Caroline questions, “That's what T-pm means? Why didn't he just tell me instead of wasting paper like that?”

  “It's his way of telling me that he thinks you're going to be alright,” Victoria explains.

  She looks questioningly at her daughter, “Are you hungry?”

  “Starved,” Caroline admits.

  “Fast food or..”

  “Fast food,” Caroline interrupts her mother’s alternative.

  Victoria smiles, “I was hoping you'd say that. I've got the perfect place in mind.”

  * * *

  “Hardees is your perfect place?”, Caroline questions her mother's usage of the term.

  “Two Frisco burgers, two large fries, one large Diet Coke, and one large Dr. Pepper,” the voice recalls Victoria's order through the speaker; “Will that be all?”

  “Yes,” Victoria conforms.

  “That will be fifteen dollars and forty-seven cents. Please pull around to the first window.”

  “Their cows from Italy or something?”

  Victoria chuckles, “No, but the bacon makes them well worth it.”

  “You make eating pork sound like I just learned how to ride a bike without training wheels,” Caroline teases her mom.

  Victoria tilts her head slightly, “I guess it kind of is. It is a pretty big mile-stone.”

  “Whatever,” Caroline feels weird about the virtual pat on the back. After all, it's just pork.

  * * *

  “So?”, Victoria watches her daughter take her first bite into the burger while sitting at their dining room table.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Caroline nods. She chews and swallows, “It's good.”

  Victoria laughs, “I thought you might like it.” She quickly joins her daughter in an evening gorging of the Frisco variety. The doctor takes a healthy bite, chews, and then swallows.

  “Mmm. I forgot just how good these things are,” Victoria compliments.

  “I'm a believer,” Caroline answers before taking another bite.

  “You have anything planned with your friends after the pep rally Friday?”

  “Not sure,” Caroline covers her mouth while still chewing. She swallows and takes a sip of her Dr. Pepper.

  “I'm probably going to Becca's house on Saturday though. Why - what's up? You need me to disappear for some action?”

  “No,” Victoria picks up a french fry. She points it
at her daughter, “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  Caroline grins coyishly, “Just checking.”

  Victoria shakes her head and then holsters her french fry weapon into her mouth.

  Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap.

  Victoria nearly chokes on the partially chewed french fry as she inhales.

  “Did you hear that?”, she questions.

  “Hear what?”, Caroline's ears are filled with the crunching of pickles inside of her mouth.

  Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap.

  “That,” Victoria whispers as her nerves begin to get the better of her.

  “Huh?”, Caroline answers. She doesn't understand her mom's joke.

  “It sounds like someone's running upstairs on wooden floors,” Victoria attempts to explain the strange tapping.

  “Our floors are carpeted,” Caroline points out an obvious fact, “And I don't hear anything.”

  “Hee-hee,” a child laughs loudly.

  Caroline's eyes widen. “But I heard that,” she whispers like her mother, “There's a kid in our house.”

  Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap. Slam!

  Both ladies jerk as a door slams shut upstairs. Victoria points towards the back door.

  “Get out,” she commands, “I'll go see what's going on.”

  “No freakin’ way,” Caroline objects, “I'm not leaving you in here by yourself. You can forget it.”

  Victoria understands her daughter's concerns. She stands up and holds out her right hand. Caroline stands and joins her by taking hold of her. The two of them walk out of the dining room towards the rear door. When Victoria unlatches the deadbolt, she feels like someone is looking at her. Caroline nudges her back.

  “Mom,” Caroline's tone is barely audible.

  Victoria turns and freezes with her disbelieving stare. A little girl stands down the hallway by the staircase. She is holding a stuffed kitten.

  “That's my cat,” Caroline admits quietly while watching the transparent-looking girl down the hallway.

  Victoria stands speechless. She knows for a fact that the dress the child wears is an old dress her daughter wore whenever she was three years old. It's unmistakable. The white and yellow patterns are a design Victoria made back when she still had hopes of becoming a fashion designer.

  “Mommy, I'm scared,” the child speaks while hugging the stuffed kitten tightly against her chest.

  Victoria's shaky left hand covers her mouth.

  “Mommy?”, Caroline doesn't understand, “It thinks you're it's mommy.”

  “Caroline, it's you,” Victoria utters the horrifying words from her lips.

  “Me?”, Caroline tremors with fear, “I'm here.”

  “Grrr,” a deep guttural tone growls from upstairs. The child glances upward.

  “Mommy, the bad man wants to play.”

  Caroline and Victoria watches as the transparent child disappears behind a dark passing shadow. They hear a child's scream. When the shadow disappears, the child is gone.

  “W-what in the hell was that?!”, Caroline yells out.

  “I - I don't know,” Victoria answers in a calm way to help keep her daughter together. Victoria's eyes stares down the empty hallway.

  “That's just freakin’ great,” Caroline throws up both of her hands before landing them on her hips. “Our house is all Paranormal Activity,” she references a movie she has seen. She shakes her head, “I'm not sleeping here.”

  “There must be a rational explanation to all of this,” Victoria addresses her daughter's concerns.

  “Don't even try it,” Caroline counters, “When people do that in the movies, they die.”

  “This isn't the movies,” Victoria parries, “It's real life.”

  “And exactly where do you think they get the ideas for movies like that?”, Caroline objects to her mother's reasoning.

  Victoria pauses. She can clearly see the fear within her daughter's eyes. It's the exact same kind of fear she feels. But she must do everything she can to be the voice of reason. Panic never blossoms a solution other than running.

  “This is our home, Caroline,” Victoria speaks.

  “It needs to be put on the market,” Caroline's tone calms somewhat.

  “Are you going to leave?”

  Caroline staggers a deep breath before exhaling. She shakes her head.

  “I'm not leaving you here by yourself,” Caroline reveals her intentions, “I’m just freaked out. I wouldn't abandon you like that.”

  “We can go to a hotel if you want,” Victoria offers her daughter an escape for the night.

  “If it happens again,” Caroline says, “And I mean if I hear so much as a creek, we’re outta here.” She hugs her mom. She knows her mother is worried. And she, also, understands that her mom doesn't have that kind of money. It wouldn't be fair for Caroline to place her into a financial struggle by renting a hotel room for no telling how long. Especially, over some stupid ghost.

  Caroline steps back so she can look at her mom's face, “Besides, I've never heard of a ghost hurting someone in real life. That's just movie stuff. I’m pretty sure that would be like world news or something.”

  Victoria smiles appreciative of her daughter's attempt to relate to her reasoning. But the truth is, Victoria has patients who claim they have been harmed by spirits before. And now, she's not so sure that they haven't been telling her the truth all along. At the very least, she now questions the doubt she once carried concerning their claims.

  “You can sleep in my room if you want to.”

  “No,” Caroline shakes her head, “It sounds good when I don't have a mattress. But now it just sounds strange. I think I'd rather deal with the little girl ghost. I’ve never had the opportunity to talk to myself without feeling all weird about it.”

  Victoria attempts a smile, but her nerves keep it from forming completely.

  “Love you, mom,” Caroline leans in and pats her mother on the back with a semi-hug.

  “Love you, too,” Victoria returns the hug.

  Caroline steps back, “I need a bath. Maybe I can wash off the creepiness in the water.”

  “I might try that myself.”

  Caroline smiles for her mother’s benefit before heading towards the hallway. Victoria watches her daughter briefly pause to look up the staircase.

  “Alright you little brat!”, Caroline yells out, “You try that crap again and I'm calling a priest to exercise your little ass!”

  Victoria smiles as her daughter looks at her with a wink. She watches Caroline boldly march up the stairs.

  * * *

  “You okay?”, Rebecca's voice questions over Caroline's smartphone.

  “Yeah. It was freaky though,” Caroline admits.

  “Now what did Tamara say?”, Caroline questions in order to change the subject before spooking herself out again.

  “She said she's clueless as to why the bond was broken. And I can't find anything in the book about it. It doesn't mention anything like that.”

  “Huh,” Caroline ponders, “That's weird.”

  “Not as weird as some kiddie ghost trampling around in your house,” Rebecca counters while brushing out her long blond hair.

  “Don't say that,” Caroline chastises her bff's horrible joke, “I'll never go to sleep.”

  “Ha-ha-ha. Sorry. Couldn't resist.”

  “One extra sounds good on the invites,” Caroline confirms the real reason for Rebecca's call.

  “Sounds like a plan then,” Rebecca agrees, “I'll have them ready when I pick you up in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  “Bye love,” Rebecca closes her call.

  “Kisses back at ya,” Caroline ends her call by pressing on the screen belonging to her smartphone. She slips down into her covers and pulls them up to her neck. She doesn't like the bedroom light on, but there's no way she's going to sleep without it. Caroline closes her heavy eyelids. It seems the Tylenol P.M. is at least doing what it's supposed to do.

  * * *

/>   “Veeek-tor-riaaaahhh,” a whisper calls through the blackness of the doctor's darkened room. She moves her head to the left within her slumber.

  “Veek-tor-riahhh,” the guttural tone increases its beckoning volume to just above a whisper.

  The doctor movers her head from left to right. Beads of sweat form on her forehead. The water drips onto her pillow.

  “Veek-torr-riaaahhh,” the whispers join with the sounds of growling.

  “No,” Victoria quietly calls out in her sleep, “Leave us alone.”

  She rolls over on her left side and whimpers while the deep sleep pulls her back into its mighty grip.

  “Mommy!”, a child's voice yells out, “Wake up!”

  Victoria turns onto her back and sits straight up. Her sudden movement is accompanied by a loud gasping sound like she has been kept underwater for too long. She rubs her neck. It's really sore. Victoria gets out of bed, turns on the lamp sitting in her nightstand, and glances over to her mirror. Her eyes widen.

  Victoria barely notices the red finger marks on her neck as she makes her way over to her dresser. She reads the word on her mirror instead. It reads: Viktoria. She steps back and looks down at the floor. The top belonging to her red lipstick has been removed and the lipstick is smashed flat into the carpet.

  “Sheee izzz miiiine,” a deep voice calls from the back end of the hallway leading to Caroline's bedroom.

  Victoria covers her open mouth with both of her hands.