"Is everything okay?" Jane asked. "Did you hurt yourself?"
The little girl's eyes opened wide. She pointed at herself. "Hurt myself? Why, no! Why would you ask that, you silly goose?"
"Why do you keep calling me that?"
"Because youarea silly goose. You'remy silly goose, mommy."
Jane looked closer at the little girl. She still didn't know what the little girl was talking about, but she did start to see something similar between her and her daughter. There was a look in her eyes that her daughter had had.
No, she was being ridiculous."My daughter is dead," Jane said.
"Dead?" the little girl countered. "I'm not dead. How could a dead person do this?" Jane watched as the young girl started dancing around. She swung her hands back and forth, kicked her legs up and down, then spun and came to a stop. "Dead people can't do that!"
Jane didn't know what to say. She didn't understand what was happening. She continued to look at the little girl.
"It's me, mommy," the little girl said. "Really, it's me - Becky."
Jane almost fell to her knees at the sound of her daughter's name. "You're not my daughter. My daughter is dead."
"Oh, mommy, I'm not dead!"
"You're not my daughter," Jane said again. A little louder this time.
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not!"
At that, the little girl started to cry. Jane felt a moment of regret and she wanted to go over and console the child, but she was still startled by what she had heard.How could she know Becky's name? Why would she call her asilly goose?
The girl looked up at her through the little fingers covering her face. "You don't love me anymore, do you?" she asked. "Mommy doesn't love her silly little goose."
"Stop saying that!" Jane screamed. Any feeling of remorse she had felt left her with the young girl's words. "Stop it!"
"Oh, mommy, you don't love me!"
The child raised its balled fists up to its eyes and started to cry. It didn't sound real, though. Jane knew that the child was simply joking, pretending to be sad. Eventually the little girl stopped. She removed her hands and put them down by her side.
"You have to believe me," the little girl continued. "It's me, it's me. It'sreally ME!"
Jane shook her head. "No, it's not. My daughter is dead."
"Oh, mommy, it's me. Really!"
Jane didn't respond. She looked at the little girl and wondered if she had been wrong. She was sure that her baby girl had died. Or, at least, she thought that she had. Maybe her daughter had escaped. She might not have been affected at all.
Then another thought occurred to Jane. "But you can speak and my little girl couldn't. My Becky was too young."
The little girl laughed. "Come on, mommy. I've been talking for years! Don't you remember?"
Jane couldn't. She was sure that her daughter hadn't learned to speak.
Could she be wrong about that too?
"No," Jane decided. "You're not my daughter." She turned to walk away.
There was laughter. Then that turned to crying. Real this time. Jane tried her best to ignore it. She couldn't. She turned around. The child was lying on the ground. Her hands pressed to her face. Jane walked back over to the little girl.
"You're not real," Jane said.
This time, the little girl didn't reply. She just looked up at Jane and began sucking her thumb. She gurgled a few times. That was all.
Jane didn't know what was happening.Was it possible that she had made the whole thing up? That this was her daughter?It looked like her. Sounded like her.It had to be.
Jane took a few steps closer. The little girl continued to cry. It pained Jane to see her child this way. She bent down beside her.
"It's okay," Jane said. "I'm here, now."
The little girl looked up at Jane.Becky looked up at her mother. Her big eyes opened wider. She continued to suck her thumb. Jane patted the girl's head. She pressed her hair down.
"Shhhh, shhhh, shhhh," Jane said. "It's okay. Mommy's here."
The child continued to cry, but her sobs were becoming less and less. Jane continued to rub her hand over the child's head. She also started to hum a song to her. It was a song that her own mother had used to sing. Becky used to love it.
"There now," Jane said. "Are you feeling better?"
Jane put both of her hands around her daughter and picked her up. The little girl was cold. Her clothes were wet. She held the little girl tightly against her.
"Mommy's sorry," Jane said. "I was scared. Confused. I'm okay now."
She ran her hand softly up and down the Becky's back. Then she stood up and began rocking from side to side.
"Mommy's so sorry," she said again. "I love you so much."
Jane tilted her neck and looked down at her daughter.
"I love you, too," the little girl replied. Then Becky opened her mouth as wide as possible and took a bit out of her mother's exposed neck.
*
Jane snapped out of it and found that she was kneeling in the forest. She searched for the little girl,for her daughter. There was no one else around.
It took a while to calm herself down, but eventually she did. She looked around again. She could see the sun still shining over the tops of the trees. She rubbed her hand across her forehead.
She could picture her daughter lying there. She could see her arms wrapped around the child. She could feel the young girl's little body against her own.
None of it had been real. She knew the truth. Her daughter was dead. And she'd never get to touch her again.
Chapter 7
Jane was unsure of where she was. None of it looked familiar.
She looked at the spot where she had seen her daughter. Or where she hadthought that she had seen her. It had been nothing more than her imagination. A hallucination. Maybe because she hadn't had much water or anything to eat.
Whatever the case, she didn't want to stay there anymore. She had to keep moving.
She started to walk.
As she did, the image of her daughter came back to her. Not the young baby who she had known, but thegrowndaughter, the one who had come to her in the forest.
There was also the dream she had had of her husband. OfPhil. On their wedding day. Biting into her lips.
The images scared her. And upset her. She didn't want to think of her family that way. They had been wonderful people. People that she had loved. She didn't want her memories of them tarred by what they had become.Those creatures. Those things.Those weren't her darling Phil and her beautiful Becky.
She continued to walk and tried not to think. It hurt her too much to do so. Her loving husband. Her sweet daughter.
No...she couldn't do this to herself. She needed to stop.
Jane started to walk faster. The trees brushed by her, pulled at her arms. At times, she thought that they were hands reaching out to grab her, but that was just her imagination again. It had to be. There was nothing out here. Nothing to hurt her.
She picked up her pace. Her heart rate followed. Her breathing became heavy.
She kept trying to push the images of her husband and daughter away.
And her neighbour, Harold. She had taken a shovel to the young man's head and smashed it. She had hit him over and over and over.
No,she thought.Stop thinking about those things!
She continued to walk. Almost run. Harold's wrecked face kept appearing before her. It taunted her. Haunted her.
That hadn't been Harold.That had been one of thosethings.
She made her way through the trees. They kept pulling at her. She kept pushing on. She couldn't stop. She had to keep going. She needed to get out. She needed to...
"Hey!" someone called to her. "Where are you going?"
Jane wasn't sure if she had actually heard anything, but she stopped and turned. She saw a person standing off to the side. Too far way to see clearly, she knew enough that it was a man.
"Where are you going?" he asked again.<
br />
"Me...I'm..." Jane didn't know what to say. Her mind had been racing. The man had taken her off guard.
He lifted his hands, palms out toward her. "Relax," he said. "Just tell me where you're going."
"I...I...I don't know."
"What are you doing out here?"
Jane tried to gain her composure. She was still breathing heavily and she had started to sweat.
"I was trying to get away," she said finally.
"Away? From who?"
The question seemed strange.From who? From all of those people who had changed. From everyone who was trying to kill her!
"From my husband," she said. "He changed."
The man shook his head andtsked. "Your husband changed? How?"
"He turned into one of thosethings."
"Things?"
"You know, those people who have gone crazy, who started attacking each other."
The mantskedagain. "I don't think so," he said. "Maybe it'syou that's changed."
"What?" She didn't understand why the man was arguing with her. "Me? No, it was my husband. And my daughter. I saw them."
The man took a step closer.
"You did?" he asked. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure! Haven't you seen thesethings? These people that changed."
"There you go again with the wordchange. I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary. Nothing at all."
"But the news. I saw that in the city..."
"They city?" the man cut her off. "No, no one has changed. Only you."
"No! It's not me. It's them. It's my family. My husband. My daughter. They've all changed."
The man came closer. "I'm your husband, Jane. I haven't changed, have I?"
Jane took a good look at the man. Standing before herwas her husband. It was Phil. She didn't know what was happening to her. She grabbed at her head. She must be hallucinating again. This was all a dream.
"No," she said. "You're dead. You and Becky."
The man laughed.
"You meanher?" he asked. He pointed to a little girl walking out of the trees. Jane stared at her. Itwas Becky. Not the daughter that she had known, but the Becky from her dream. The one who had talked to her. The one who had danced for her.
"This is a dream," Jane said.
"A dream? I don't think so, Jane. Just relax."
Phil kept his hands raised and took a few more steps closer. Jane moved back.
"Stay away!" she said. "Leave me alone."
"Mommy?" Jane turned. It was the little girl. Her daughter.Becky. "Mommy, are you okay?"
Jane pulled away from her too.
"Stay away from me!" she shouted. "You're not real. You're not!"
"Jane," Phil said. "Look at us. We're real. You're not well. Something's wrong."
Jane looked at her husband. He looked exactly as she had remembered. He wasn't angry. He wasn't trying to attack her. He was just talking. And thatthing hadn't been able to talk.
"Is it really you?" she asked. She felt herself beginning to relax. Maybe her husband was right. She might have thought up the whole thing.
Phil smiled in a comforting grin that melted her heart. "Of course it's me! Just relax. We're going to get you help."
"You are?"
"Yes, mommy," Becky said. "We're going to get you help."
"Just come over here," Phil added.
Jane took a few steps toward him. He walked toward her too. Then, when she was close enough, he raised out his arm and put it on her shoulder.
"There, there," he said. He pulled his wife into an embrace. Becky came up and hugged her from behind.
Jane started to cry. It felt good to be with her family again. She looked down at her daughter. She was smiling up at her. She looked at her husband. He was still smiling too.
"I've missed you," Jane said.
"And we've missed you," Phil replied. "We never want you to leave us again."
Phil moved his face forward and kissed Jane on the cheek. She felt his lips press against her skin. It felt nice. For a moment. It didn't take her long to realize that there was something wrong. His lips were too cold. Too stiff.
She turned to look at him.
"You're never going to leave us again," he said, smiling. This time, his lip curled upward into a snarl.
Jane tried to pull away, but Phil wouldn't let go. Her daughter was still behind her, hugging her. Jane looked down.
"You can't leave us, mommy," her daughter said. "Never again." She was snarling as well.
Jane slapped frantically at her husband. He started laughing. Her daughter did too. Jane tried to wiggle free. She couldn't move.
"Let me go!" she screamed.
"You're never going to leave us again," her husband repeated.
"You can't leave us, mommy," he daughter added. "You can't. Youcan't!" Becky's voice dropped into something more like a growl.
At that moment, Jane remembered her baseball bat. She could fight off her husband with it. But it was no longer in her hands. She didn't know where she had left it. She couldn't remember leaving it behind anywhere.
"Stop," Jane said.
"No, Jane," Phil said. "You stop. You can't leave us, honey. You just can't."
Jane hit her husband with her hands again. Her husband continued to laugh. Her daughter too.
"Oh, you silly goose," Becky said. "You can't leave us!"
Jane smashed her fist against her husband's nose. It was that that helped her break free.
She ran. Her husband and daughter chased after her.
"You can't leave us," they shouted. "Youcan't!"
She kept moving. The branches whipped at her face and cut her cheeks. They pulled at her clothes. This time, she didn't pay them any attention. She kept running. Her family close behind.
Although Jane didn't know where she was going, she kept pushing on. She needed to get away. Anywhere was better than here. She had to escape these two. They weren't her family. They weren't Phil and Becky. They were ghosts. Dreams. Her imagination.
She continued forward. Her heart beat wildly. Her breathing became strained. But she couldn't let herself stop. She couldn't even let herself slow down. She had to keep going. Those two were still after her. She didn't want them to catch her. She couldn't let them.
She ran and ran and ran.
Then she broke into a clearing. She could see a small town up ahead. She continued to run as fast as she could. She could no longer hear or see her family behind her, but she knew that they were there. She had to keep going.
She had to!
Jane ran onto a street. It felt strange underneath her feet. Much different from the forest ground. But she didn't spend much time thinking about it. All she knew what that she suddenly had more grip and could run faster. She kept going.
Up ahead, she saw a park. That's were she needed to go. Once she got there, she'd be safe. She was sure of it. She picked up her speed. Just a little bit more. The park came closer and closer upon her.
When she got there, she ran into it and fell down heavily beside the swings. She was tired and could barely catch her breath. But, with what little energy she had left, she managed to look back in the direction she had come. Her family was nowhere in sight. She had escaped them.
Jane let out a sigh of relief, rested her head against a bar and closed her eyes.
Chapter 8
Adam came through the doorway into the bedroom. He was wearing an expensive tuxedo and a top hat. He was also holding a cane. They had found a closet full of clothing and had thought it would be fun to try them on.
"What do you think of this?" he asked.
Shelly laughed. It wasn't that he looked bad. She just didn't think of him as the tuxedo-type.
"What's the matter?" he continued. "I think I look great!"
"Yeah, well…"
"Well, nothing. I look fantastic!"
Shelly laughed again.
"And what about whatyou're wearing?" Adam pointed at Shelly's clothes.
&nbs
p; She was wearing an expensive evening gown. Even though it was far too large for her, she had wanted to try it on. It had looked so elegant. Like something she had seen celebrities wearing at an award show or gala,something for the red carpet.
Shelly looked down at her dress. "There's nothing wrong with this. It's just a little bit big."
"A little big? You look like you've been dropped in by parachute."
She was lying on the bed, the dress fanned out around her. The corners of her lips dropped and Adam could see that she didn't like his comment. He felt guilty for making it.
"I was only joking," he said. "You really do look beautiful."
Shelly looked up. "I do?"
"Of course! Now stand up and let's get a better look."
Shelly got off of the bed. She had to hold onto the top of the dress to stop it from falling off of her shoulders. She held it tightly. Then she spun around a few times. Adam smiled. He could tell that the dress made her happy. He definitely felt bad at telling her that it was too big for her - even though it was.
"Come here," he said. He held out his hand. Shelly went over to him and grabbed it. He bowed. "May I have this dance?"
Shelly looked at him. It was one of the very few times that he had seen her look nervous.
"There's no music," she said. "We can't dance without music."
"That's not a problem."
Adam began singing a song. It wasn't one that Shelly had ever heard before, but that didn't matter. He had a nice voice and it sounded sweet.
Shelly accepted.
As he put his hand around her waist, Adam realised how small Shelly really was. And how young. Although she acted mature for her age, she was still somewhat of a child. He almost pulled away from her at the thought of it, but he knew that this was making her happy and, right now, that's all that he wanted to do. He kept his hand there and began swaying back and forth. Shelly followed his lead. He even spun her around a few times. He could tell that she loved it.
When he finished singing, Shelly sat down heavily onto the bed.
"I've never really danced with anyone before," she admitted.
He looked down at her. He still couldn't believe that she was so young.
She hadn't even danced with anyone before!
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