Hunkered down skimming the earth, a faint light glowed in the dark, a gift from Jennifer's pure living soul, allowing Claire to see where Jennifer hid. She blew across the ground like a gentle wind, sweeping Jennifer off the ground, and rose like an eagle soaring through the air high above the trees.
Kari yelled from the distance. “You didn't hurt me, Claire. I'll be back. Hide her Claire, hide her good.”
A screechy laugh lingered through the misty air as the girls soared over the woods. A calm feeling washed over Claire the moment they laid eyes on the lights on the outskirts of town. They were safe—for now.
Claire and Jennifer had time to spare before daybreak, so Claire headed for the park to rest. She set Jennifer gently down on her feet atop The Rock, and they sat side-by-side, holding hands, and looking out at the vast expanse of green grass and black water. The moon had long since set, and the only illumination came from the sweep of stars above.
“Claire?” Jennifer whispered, squeezing her hand.
“Yes, what is it?” With Claire's new gift of sentience, she already knew what Jennifer wanted to say, but waited patiently to hear it.
“How did my leg heal? I know the bone broke in two, because I saw my thighbone sticking out, but now it feels good. Did you do that?”
“I didn't heal you. I suspect it was Maddie Ann, making you whole to fight with her another day. She enjoys inflicting pain on the living, but she also enjoys a fair fight. She can't torment you if you're in the hospital surrounded by people or unconscious.”
Jennifer hung her head. “I’m scared…I’m losing you, right?”
The sadness in Jennifer's voice surged through Claire's heart. There would never be another friend like Jennifer to confide in or lean on for support. Words could not describe her feelings, but somehow she'd find a way to share them.
“Who said anything about losing me? I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me forever,” Claire said, grinning. “You have to promise me you’ll leave the cemetery alone, though. Listen, you have to be extra careful from now on. The black souls are watching you. The light from your innocent soul is like a beacon to them. You have to resist them, Jennifer. They'll play mind games and trick you so they can eat you alive.”
“No, you can’t do this to me, Claire. I don't believe you when you say I'll see you again. Don't leave me here alone. I won’t let you go. It's all too overwhelming. Nothing seems real anymore, like life is one big cosmic joke. I spent several days trying to figure out where I fit in. I can’t go on, and I won’t do it, not without you. Why didn’t you let them take me? I could have been with you forever.”
Claire sighed heavily. “Please don’t guilt-trip me, Jennifer. My life is over, and you—you are free to do whatever you want. You get to wake up in the morning and go to bed at night. You get to hug your mom and see your family. I can’t. I can’t even get back to my grandfather. I left him behind in Maddie Ann's house to spend one more moment with my parents. You have precious life, and one day, Jennifer…one day when you're playing with your grandchildren, you will cherish it.”
***
Claire walked with Jennifer down her street as the sun peeked over the horizon in the east. Making their way across the road, the lights in the front yard pointed the way to the door. The house looked lonely. Perhaps it was because Jennifer feared this would be the last time she'd see Claire, despite her reassurances. “Well, we made it,” Claire said, giving Jennifer a huge hug.
Hugging fiercely back, Jennifer dreaded saying good-bye. She didn’t want to let go. “Why do I feel as if I’m the child and you're the adult? It’s as if I have to listen to you or else I’m going to get into trouble. You know Claire, I'm a big girl, and I can do what I want.”
“Jennifer, I don’t see myself as an authority figure here, just someone who is mature enough to see what is best for someone she loves. You're vulnerable because you're alive. I will see you again, I promise. This is not good-bye forever. But I have to go now—I’ve got to go and you need some rest.”
Jennifer had so many unanswered questions, but Claire hadn’t the time to answer them. “Where are you going, Claire? Is it the girls who call you? Please tell me—what are they going to do to you?”
Claire's silence spoke volumes. “Nothing, Jennifer, everything is going to be fine. Don’t you worry. I can take care of myself.” Claire grabbed her and held her tight.
“Good-bye, my sweet Claire, I'll never forget you,” Jennifer whispered. “Incase you can't make it back, I want you to know you'll live right here forever,” she cried, thumping her chest.
Jennifer slipped into the house and closed the door behind her. She peeked out the side window and waved good-bye as Claire turned and lifted into the air, soaring off toward the low hanging clouds. Her eyes brimming with unshed tears, Jennifer tiptoed up the stairs and into her room. She fell across her bed and closed her eyes, giving in to chest-heaving sobs of despair.
Chapter-Fifteen
Moments after Jennifer crashed on her bed, a huge black-shrouded presence loomed over her in her sleep. WHAM! The slamming of a door brought her straight up in bed like a gunshot.
“Hurry, Cindy. Why did you let me oversleep,” her father hollered. “I’ve got to get to work in twenty minutes in forty-five minute traffic.”
One shoe on and one in his hand, Jennifer's dad rushed down the hallway to the stairs.
“Calm down, you’ll make it. See you tonight, dear,” Jennifer heard her mother say as she handed him his ritual sack lunch. He raced out the door, slamming it behind him. Another gunshot straight to her heart.
Jennifer heaved a huge sigh, sliding her legs out of bed. Might as well get up. Sleeping was torture. She slid on her house slippers and her robe and walked down to the kitchen hoping to find some peace of mind. She needed to talk to her mom. Cindy stood in front of the stove making biscuits and gravy. Jennifer crept behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Hey you, when did you get in?” Cindy asked. She stared at the scratches on Jennifer's face.
“A bit ago. Molly had an early seminary class so she dropped me off. I went right back to sleep as soon I got in.”
“What did you do to your face? It's scratched.” Cindy stroked a knuckle down Jennifer's cheek.
“Um, oh this?” She rubbed her cheek self-consciously. “A sticker bush in Molly's yard. I tripped on a toy truck and fell into it. It's nothing.”
She didn’t want to look obvious, so she slumped into a kitchen chair, deliberately not saying much in fear she’d slip and say something wrong.
“Hey, I tried calling you last night, but the number you left wouldn’t work,” her mom said, frowning at her.
Jennifer’s face turned red. She'd forgotten all about that. Think, Jennifer, think. She'd better make this good or her mom would never trust her again.
“I must have goofed. Sorry about that,” Jennifer replied. “But at least you knew where I was.”
If she didn't lose the guilty face, her mother would see right through her, so Jennifer put on a smile and leaned back in the chair.
“You're right, dear. I worry about you since the…the incident. I'm sorry if I seem a tad paranoid.” Cindy planted a kiss on the top of her head and turned back to the stove.
Her armpits dampened. Jennifer sighed; relieved her mother didn't ask her fifty thousand questions. She had no way of answering when she didn't understand it herself.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you. We got busy listening to music and doing our math. I will the next time, I promise. And see? You worried for nothing. I'm fine, even if I did 'socialize'.”
She rose to get a glass of orange juice as her mom set a plate full of biscuits and gravy in front of her.
“What are you doing today? Anything you’d like to do? How about we make a day of it and go shopping together?” Cindy asked, piling food on her plate. “I need shoes.”
The unexpected question caught Jennifer off guard. Sleep was all she wanted. She
was too tired to go anywhere.
“Well, if it’s all right with you, I’d rather lounge around the house. You know, watch a little television and sleep.” Jennifer faked a yawn that turned into a real one. Her weak body trembled and she chilled.
“I find it hard to believe that my shopaholic daughter does not want to buy shoes,” Cindy said. She yanked Jennifer's face around with two fingers on her chin. Cindy stared at her with the funniest look on her face. “Honey, are you sure there’s nothing wrong? You look a little green. If you don’t feel well, I can take you to the doctor.”
“No, Mom, I don’t need to see a doctor and I’m not sick that way. I'm tired. I had a busy night and it took a lot out of me, is all. We didn’t go to bed until late—you know girls. We got to talking and giggling and time flew. So don’t worry, I’m fine, just tired.”
Jennifer’s deepest concern was her mom finding out where she spent the entire night. If she knew the truth, she’d turn Jennifer's bedroom into a prison cell.
“I’m worried about you. These last few weeks haven’t been the easiest, then finding out about Claire and the other girls…well, it’s not good. So, I want you to take it easy,” Cindy, added caressing her daughter’s delicate hand.
The mention of Claire made Jennifer lose her appetite. She didn’t want to hear her name mentioned. The rush of emotions was too overwhelming. The pain cut so deep, it felt like a knife piercing her gut.
“Don’t remind me of Claire. I have to get over this and realize my friends are never coming back. My friends are…gone,” she said. She couldn't hide the dejection in her voice. “Gone…to Heaven, Hell, or in-between. Drop it. I don't want to talk about it.”
“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll drop the subject. I know what it does to you,” Cindy told her. “Eat your breakfast. You need your strength. I forbid you to worry another minute about them.”
'Forbid' was a hard word to swallow. They 'forbid' her to go back to school. Claire 'forbid' her to go back to the cemetery. The temptation was so great; God forbid if it weren't a matter of days before she returned. She'd make her own decisions, like Claire did. Having control over her mind was her biggest obstacle. Could she stay away? Jennifer belonged there somehow, no matter what Claire said or made her promise. Jennifer had choreographed this disaster, yet she was the only one who lived. Why? It didn’t seem right and she didn’t feel worthy of living. She did not tolerate well-being ill and tired all the time. Making Claire understand the fact wasn’t going to be easy, because Claire was stubborn as a mule.
“Mom, I think I’ll go upstairs, take a shower, and go back to bed. I’m so tired.”
“Wait, what about your breakfast,” she asked, pointing at the heaping amount of gravy jelling on the side of the plate.
Jennifer's stomach flipped over. “I'm not hungry right now. Put it in the microwave until later,” she said, smiling thinly. Jennifer leaned across the corner of the table, gave her mom a squeeze, and headed upstairs.
***
Jennifer needed Claire to make it through whatever battle she planned with the black souls. She couldn’t allow her to give in to them. No matter what Maddie Ann said, her world was all lies using nothing more than stupid tricks to pull them in. Everything around Jennifer reminded her of Claire or one of the other girls. Walking through her room, a poster Claire gave her two years ago hung on the wall above the bed. The sight of it mocked her, enraged her, and she ripped it off-the-wall, shredding it to pieces. How dare you leave me, Claire? You’re supposed to be my friend, but when I need you the most, you don’t want me around. “I hate my life! I hate my life!” she groaned.
Jennifer slid down the side of her bed, weeping like a little girl. She rested her teary face in her hands. Her mind raced with confusion; the idea of joining them eased its way back into her thinking. The tears rained down her cheeks. She didn't want to die. She wanted her old life back, but that wasn't possible. She sucked in air and began panting to ease the ache in her heart. She imagined herself atop The Rock surrounded by her friends, laughing and gossiping. The only way to be with them again was…
She couldn't even think the word, but she couldn't take this pain another moment. Her parents would be fine; they had each other. They didn't need her or her problems right now. They'd be better off without her. How was she to prove to the town and her parents that she hadn't murdered her friends when she carried all this guilt? Neither she nor her parents’ marriage could withstand a long, drawn-out murder trial. Oh, why had Maddie Ann let her go? Running her fingers through her sweaty hair, she knew what she had to do.
Jennifer lifted herself from the floor. She trudged over to the top drawer of the dresser, opened a secret panel, and pulled out a pocketknife her grandfather gave her before he left on his last hunting trip. His lifelong friend accidentally shot and killed him on that trip. He was one reason her mother went all flaky and controlling in the last few years. Grandpa told her when he gave it to her that someday she'd need it, but not to let her mother find it or she'd take it away. Slipping it out of the black drawstring casing, she held the instrument of her death in the palm of her hand. Somehow, she didn't think this was the 'need' he had in mind.
She slumped down beside the bed, her legs sticking out straight like a six-year-old. Picking the blade out with her nails, it appeared as shiny as the day she received it. The smooth steel blade reflected her haggard face. She heard the vacuum from somewhere downstairs, and Duran Duran on the stereo, blasting “Wild Boys” a little too loudly. She moved the knife around in her fingers and held it tight. She tossed it, hefting its weight, from hand-to-hand. Lifting her left wrist from the floor, she rested the blade against her flesh. I’m coming Claire; soon I’ll be with you. There will never be any good-byes between us.
Jennifer swallowed her fear and managed the courage to continue. No little nicks. Just go for it. Lengthwise, like they say or it doesn't work. She held her breath and squinted. She sliced the blade downward on her wrist, and with one quick movement, laid the flesh from wrist to elbow wide open. “Ahhhhhhh,” she yelled as the pain singed at the nerves in her arm. She looked down, fascinated, as a massive amount of blood oozed out of the wound, pulsed off her arm and onto the floor. Now do the other one, quickly, someone whispered in her ear.
Repeating the same pattern, she plunged the blade straight into her right wrist and pulled upward toward her elbow. Her left hand weakened and barely gripped the knife handle, but the knife moved sure and swiftly, severing blood vessels and tendons alike. “Owww! IT HURTS, IT HURTS, IT HURTS,” she yowled, flopping to the floor on her back. As the blood squirted like an erupting fountain, she mumbled, “Come and take me with you now, Claire.”
Sweat beaded Jennifer’s forehead and soaked her hair. She sucked in air as if she couldn't get enough. Pallor washed her face as desperation creased her brow. Light-headed, she realized she was bleeding to death. She turned her head to the side and saw the growing pool of blood beneath her.
Suddenly panic stricken, Jennifer wanted to scream for her mother, but she was too weak. She struggled to sit up, but her arms wouldn't work and she slumped over, bonking her head on the hope chest. As she lay gazing at the star-speckled ceiling, waiting for Claire, she lifted her arms to glance at the damage she'd done.
She watched her hands dangle useless at the end of her arms. Oddly, the pain had evaporated. The blood kept gushing out, running down her arms to pool on the floor. It looks kinda cool, she thought. Her body shook with chills. Was this death or was she dreaming?
***
Cindy finished wiping down the counters in the kitchen, giving the rest of the room a once-over glance. Satisfied at finishing the last of the housework, she gave a sigh of relief. Slinging the dishrag over the neck of the faucet, she waltzed into the living room, flopped down on the sofa, and propped her tired feet on the coffee table, grinning. Steve was at work, and Jennifer was upstairs sound asleep. She had nothing to do. Laying her head back against the plump pillow, she closed her eyes.
She might even take a nap right here on the sofa.
As she dozed off, a chilling voice whispered, “IT’S JENNIFERRRR… GET IN HERRREEE…”
Cindy opened her eyes, sat bolt upright, and called, “Jennifer?
She darted from the sofa and rushed upstairs to Jennifer’s bedroom. Fear stalled her at the door, afraid of what was on the other side. Cindy rubbed her hand over the surface of the wooden door. Stop being ridiculous, she mentally chastised herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and entered the room.
She took it all in at a glance, buckling her knees. Jennifer sprawled in a pool of blood, covered in red gore from head to foot; the knife resting at the tips of her fingers; Jennifer's face grimacing in death. Cindy gripped the doorknob; the color in her face drained to her toes. Her eyes fluttered shut, and then opened again. Her mouth gaped open, but nothing came out. Pulling herself together, she staggered over to where Jennifer sprawled on the floor. She leaned over and lost it. “Oh my God… No—No—Nooo!”
Maddie Ann s Playground Page 19