Awakening

by Hayes, Olivia

  The first time I'd had it was on the day Mark died, but now it came all the time. It was like the universe had decided to give me something else to hang on to, a way to see Mark again even though he wasn't there with me.

  “Caroline, did you hear me?” My mother called. “Are you up there?”

  From the window seat in my childhood bedroom, I called back to her. “Yes!”

  “Could you please come down?”

  I sighed. It had been two years since Mark's death, but I still missed him like crazy and dreamt about him all the time. I hadn't seen or heard from Luke since then either, which to me, was almost as if dealing with the pain of losing them both.

  In the time since Mark's death I had become somewhat numb, or maybe I hadn't given myself a chance to feel anything because I rarely left the house to do anything other than work or go to the gym. Some days I thought I needed a mindless, no strings, one night stand to get me out of my funk. Of course, that would mean leaving the house to actually meet someone, and then dealing with the guilt of tarnishing Mark's memory like that. Maybe I'd just buy stock in Energizer. That way I could keep my battery operated boyfriend in top performance.

  I really should get out more.

  I threw back the blanket I was curled up under, noticing the glint from the ring on my left hand. I liked to wear it sometimes so I could feel closer to Mark, although my mother thought it was incredibly unhealthy. I pulled it off, slipped it safely back inside it's box and went to see what she needed. I walked down the stairs into the kitchen, grabbed a water from the fridge and sat down across from her at the breakfast table.

  “So, what’s up?” I asked, taking a sip of my water.

  She looked a mess and her brow was furrowed causing her wrinkles to be more pronounced. “Your grandmother died.”

  My mother hadn't mentioned my grandmother in years. The last time we visited her there was some sort of fall out between her and my mother, but my mother had never shared, and I never pressed the issue. I had never been close to my grandmother, I really thought she didn't like kids. She wasn't warm and friendly, and I tried to stay out of her way as much as I could whenever we were at her house, choosing to spend all my time at the Johnson's or outside with Mark and Luke.

  “Okay,” I paused. "Are you alright?"

  “I just find it hard to believe.”

  “Why is that hard to believe? People die all the time."

  The admission struck close to home, stinging.

  "I know, but my mother.... well... I just always thought that I'd get a chance to see her again. That we would reconcile."

  "Mother it's been years and years. You've wasted all this time and now that she's gone you're regretting your decision to stay away. Is there going to be a service?"

  My heart plummeted when I realized we may have to attend a funeral. I loathed them. I preferred to remember how people were in life, rather than see them for the last time in death. I couldn't even attend Mark's, and since his accident, I'd grown comfortably numb to any type of loss.

  “No. She wanted to be cremated. It should be handled today. She wasn't a religious woman, and certainly wouldn't have wanted a burial."

  "I'm sorry Mom, I don't know what to say," I said, reaching out my hand to pat hers.

  She gave me a thin smile and wiped away a few stray tears that slipped down her cheeks.

  "I do need your help though, honey. I am going to have to go clean out the house and hopefully sell some things to pay for the cremation. I imagine the place is cluttered full of junk and hasn't been cleaned in years. I'll have to clean it all out of there and then have the house condemned or demolished. Best case scenario, it's in good shape, and maybe we can sell it. I'll have to call a structural engineer to come out and take a look.”

  "Did you call Dad or Carson yet?" I asked. Carson had just graduated from Georgia, and would be moving back home to work for my dad as soon as he got done celebrating with his buddies.

  "I did. Carson still has another week in Athens, but will be home to help after that. Your dad has to work, but will be in on Friday evening."

  “Mom, I'll do whatever I can to help, but I am supposed to be starting a new position at the company on Monday."

  “Well, I'm sure your father won't mind if you take a week to help with this before starting your new position. He is the boss after all. And why don’t you invite Anne Marie and Eva to come and help us? We sure could use the extra hands.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I knew my friends had heard plenty of stories about my grandmother's house over the years, and most of them bordered on the strange and supernatural. In all the time I had spent there as a kid it was mostly uneventful, but somehow the stories still persisted. I might need someone to explore with. Plus, I hadn't seen my two best friends much over the last two years and I felt in serious need of some girl time.

  “Yes, I'm sure. Go call and invite them.” She got up from the table and walked toward the living room before stopping in the doorway and turning to look at me. "Call your father first. If nothing else, you should be able to commute to the office," she said before walking out of the kitchen.

  “Mom?” I called to her. She came back to the doorway and looked at me. “Are you sure you're alright? I know you weren’t close to her, but she was still your mother.”

  She smiled at me, looking a little teary eyed and said, “I’ll be fine... Now, go make your calls and start packing. We need to leave tomorrow afternoon.”

  ~~~~

  I was sitting on Anne Marie’s bed watching her and Eva pack their stuff for our trip. “You guys, really, it’s not like any of those crazy stories are true. They are probably all made up by kids that went out there and freaked themselves out. I never saw anything weird in all the times I visited.”

  “Yeah, but what if they aren’t made up?” Anne Marie asked. “What if the stories are true and the house really is haunted? Wouldn't that be insane?"

  Anne Marie had always been a dreamer. She was certain that ghosts, and goblins, and even fairies and unicorns existed. She knew that someday she would meet a handsome prince who would ride a white horse and only have eyes for her, and she would be treated like a princess for the rest of her life. She had a positive outlook and was always optimistic.

  “Oh, come on Marie. That’s just ridiculous.” This was from Eva, she was always the level headed one, although she had a temper, and red hair, if that tells you anything. She believed there was a logical explanation for everything. Ghosts, to her, were simply cool drafts in creaky old houses. The two of them really were a good combination. I had always thought that Eva's down to Earth attitude helped ground Anne Marie, and that Anne Marie's optimism helped Eva see past the end of her nose.

  “Well, we’ll see won’t we?” Anne Marie said, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder in a huff.

  “What time are we leaving tomorrow?” Eva asked, rolling her deep blue eyes at Anne Marie.

  “I think right after lunch,” I told them. “Mom wants to get there before dark so we have time to get settled in. She doesn’t know what kind of shape the house is going to be in. She said that my grandmother was some sort of pack rat.”

  “I bet we are going to find some cool stuff! Do you think your mom will let us bring some of it back?” Anne Marie asked.

  “I guess so, if it’s not important or worth anything. She said we were going to have to sell most of it.”

  “Great! Maybe we can refurbish some old things or repurpose them for our new store Eva!” Anne Marie said, focusing her deep green eyes on Eva.

  “We'll see,” Eva said, shrugging.

  Eva and Anne Marie had decided to go to college together at Mercer University. They had roomed together all four years and then stayed in Macon for two years after college trying to get their business idea up and running. Their venture, Trash to Treasure, had a loyal following, but, unfortunately, Macon is not a huge city, and there just wasn't a whole lot of demand for the items they were tr
ying to sell. They had recently leased space in a rehabbed old building in downtown Savannah, and were planning to open the new store in a few months. Now they were both staying at Anne Marie's parents’ house while they waited for their new apartment to be ready.

  As I looked off to the side of the room Anne Marie grabbed my wrist.

  "How are you doing Caroline?"

  I knew she was talking about my grandmother so I put on a smile for her and told her what she wanted to hear.

  "I'm fine, really. We weren't close."

  Although I wasn't affected much by my grandmother's passing it still opened old wounds. Death was not something I handled well and Mark's presence still haunted me, reminding me every day of how much I'd lost.

  "Are you thinking about Mark?" She pried.

  I looked down at my hands. "Always."

  As much as I knew I needed to move on, I found it hard not to compare everyone to him. He was the light in my life for a long time and it was really hard to wrap my mind around living a life that didn't include him. On top of that, an overwhelming sense of guilt ate at me every time I even entertained the idea.

  "We all loved Mark you know. Not the same way you did, but he was our friend too. We all miss him. You need to get out some, staying cooped up in the house every weekend is no way to live."

  I nodded as Anne Marie hugged me, she was trying to help, but I feared my heart wasn't ready to move on, especially when I was still having dreams of Mark.

  "Anne Marie, I have the best idea!" Eva screamed. "As soon as we get back from this little detour, we're going to find a new hangout and try to get Caroline laid. That'll get you back in the saddle, girl."

  I couldn't help but laugh at her. I was so happy to have my best friends back home.

  June 19, 2013

  The next afternoon, after packing the Explorer full of all the food you can imagine, and then stuffing our suitcases in as well, we all climbed in and headed out of town. Eva and Anne Marie sat in the back talking quietly while I kept my eyes on the passing landscape. Once we were on the highway we started driving over huge marshy areas that seemed to stretch so far back that they met the sky. We crossed several rivers, and I could see the shrimp boats returning from their early morning routes. I wondered what it would have been like to be raised in a small town and to have spent my summers in the fields or shrimping and crabbing for a living. I was suddenly glad that my mother had decided to leave country life behind and move to the city. Although, something about the slower pace of small town life was appealing to me.

  My mother was quiet as we drove, as if she were contemplating what we'd find at my grandmother's house. She still had that worried look on her face and I wondered if it would ever leave. She had been really solemn for the last two days and she had hardly said anything to me. I looked at her from the passenger seat, trying to read what I saw on her face. Her eyes seemed distant, like she was caught up in some sort of memory, and I found myself wondering what she was thinking.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She looked startled when I spoke, as if she had forgotten that anyone else was near and I almost regretted asking, until she answered.

  “I was just thinking about growing up. My father, as you know, died when I was very young. I lived with my mother and sister, your Aunt Jillian."

  My aunt Jillian had died of Leukemia when my mother was almost nineteen. According to my mother, Jillian had been out at the mall with her best friend trying on dresses for a wedding. Her friend had noticed bruises on Jillian's body and questioned her about it. Jillian had already had blood work done, but hadn't gotten the results back yet. After a few more days passed, she got the call that she needed to come into the hospital to start Chemo. From what my mother had told me, Jillian checked in around the beginning of November and died in early December. It was incredibly unexpected, and my mother was devastated. I had experienced exactly that on the day Mark died. Devastation.

  I leaned back against the seat and focused on my mother as she began telling me more about her childhood.

  “When we were kids, mother used to make us do so many chores in a day that we would come in at dark and were so tired that we couldn’t even eat, not that she cooked. We were skin and bones and our hands would be bloody and calloused from all the blisters that had come and gone over the years. One night, Jillian and I were out near the property line repairing the fence. She told me that she had to get away. That she knew my mother was up to something. I pleaded with her not to leave me behind, but she told me that she would find a safe place for us and come back to get me. We had been warned that the world outside was dangerous and that people would want to hurt us, that we were safer inside the fence line. My mother was furious that Jillian had left and punished me for weeks by locking me in the attic with little food."

  "Oh Mom! That sounds awful," I gasped.

  "Yes, it was. I don't like to talk about it."

  She paused for a moment and I was worried she wasn't going to continue with the story. I was holding my breath when she began again.

  "Mother never officially looked for Jillian, I don't think she wanted to get anyone else involved for fear that they would discover whatever it was that she was up to. As the months passed by, I started to think that Jillian would never come back. Then, one summer night, almost two years after she had left, the door opened and there she stood. I could tell that she was doing well. Her skin had color and her hands were healed. She had gained some weight and her blonde hair sparkled in the fading sunlight. She looked really good. I was overjoyed to see her. The whole time we were children we had no friends except each other. No one came onto the property and we never left.”

  My mother smiled wistfully as she stared at the road ahead of us, remembering the sister she had loved.

  “Apparently Jillian had found shelter and worked as a waitress for a while, she told me that she’d met a guy. His name was Jack, and he was very handsome and smart and she was going to marry him. When Jillian told me that, I started to cry, but she wiped away my tears and told me that I was going to live with them and that I would be so much happier. I couldn’t believe my ears, but at the same time, I knew that mother was going to have a lot to say about that.

  “I was right too, she screamed at us first, and said that we were worthless and didn’t deserve to be alive. Jillian fought with her. They kept yelling at each other about what was best for me. Something I still don't understand to this day. All I knew was my mother had ruined our lives. Jillian told her that she knew the world was a better place than what we had experienced so far and that she was taking me away. Mother was so mad that she hit Jillian and knocked her out. Then she dragged me by my hair to my bedroom and locked me in. I had been so worried about Jillian that all I could do was sit and cry. I must have cried myself to sleep, because the next thing I remember, there was a tapping noise at my window and someone was calling my name. That was the best sound I think I’ve ever heard.

  “It was Jillian, she was outside my window throwing stones at it and calling to me ‘Allison, wake up!’ I remember being so excited and relieved that she was okay. I opened the window and crawled out. I guess it was about ten feet to the ground, so I held on to the window ledge and dangled my body. I probably had less than five feet to fall at that point, so I held my breath and let go. When I landed, I was surprisingly fine. Jillian and I stood there for a moment in each other's arms just happy that we were both okay.

  “The night was so dark, and I thought that there was no way out of that place, but with Jillian at my side we started walking toward the front gate, which was about a mile from the house. At some point during my escape we must have woken my mother because the lights started coming on in the house. We could hear her swearing and screaming and we started to run. Jillian told me that Jack was waiting outside the gates in his car and if we could just make it that far we’d be safe. I had known that there was something strange about my mother, but until that night I had no idea what she was ca
pable of.

  “As we were running, I heard something behind us. I looked over my shoulder and it was like my mother was hovering just above the ground; floating towards us on a cloud of smoke. She was gaining on us. At that moment I was scared for my life. Jillian and I started to run faster. There was so much adrenaline flowing through my system that I could probably have run a marathon. Mother was almost upon us as we reached the gate. I slipped through, but I felt Jillian lag behind. I turned and saw that she had tripped over a root. I screamed for her to get up, mother was so close to her. Jillian stood up, but her ankle was injured in the fall. She was so close, maybe three steps, but just as she reached the gate my mother grabbed her by the shoulder and Jillian started screaming. I reached back through the gate and took Jillian’s hand. I pulled with all the strength I had. I remember looking into my mother's eyes, but they weren’t hers. They were black as night.

  “With one last attempt to save Jillian, I pulled with all my might. To my amazement she came with me, and we landed in a heap outside the gates. Jack was there and when he turned on his headlights we realized we were safe and we started crying hysterically and then laughing. With Jack’s help, Jillian and I got to our feet. We turned and looked toward the house. My mother was still there, behind the gates. Jillian and I stood there and looked at her for what seemed like forever, and then we climbed into Jack’s car and drove off, without ever looking back."

  I sat there quietly listening to a story more unbelievable than anything I had ever heard in my life.

  “Wow. You really had it rough.” I said.

  “Welllll... I'm just kidding!" She laughed.

  "What? Oh my gosh Mom! You know I was totally freaking out!" I let out a huge sigh of relief. "Is any of that true?"

  "None of that spooky stuff is true. My mother wasn't a good mother by any means, but she didn't starve us or lock me in my room. Jillian did leave, but it was to go to college, and when she came back it was to take me with her after I finished high school. I know you've heard the house is haunted, but there's nothing scary about it. It's just old stories. "