The Darkness Within Her

Chapter 9: Something Different

“You know darling, I usually don’t give two shits about others but girl,” Heather placed a tray of food right next to me on the cot, “Whatever you said to Tim, you need to apologize for.”

            “I don – wait what? I have to apologize?” I stared at her incredulously. “Why do I have to apologize?”

            “’Cause I’m here, not him,” Heather sat down on the edge of my bed.

            “And that’s a bad thing because…?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

            Heather’s face flushed with anger, “Listen, it isn’t Tim that you need to be angry at or cautious of. It is your own father.”

            “My father?” I laughed out loud, “That is incredibly rich.”

            “Rich? No. The truth? Yes. You are sick, dying. We didn’t do that. All we wanted was to use you so that we could get what we want. If you die, we have no leverage,” Heather snapped.

            “And are you suggesting that my dad is the one who did this to me?” I pulled my knees up to my chest. “You are delusional! I could have been born with these holes in my heart. I do know that that can actually happen.”

            “Yes, it is called an atrial septal defect if it’s a hole in the two upper chambers and if it is in the bottom two chambers, it’s called a ventricular septal defect. Children can live to adulthood with treatment. Not on their own,” Heather waved her hand at me, “And that is why it is so goddamn creepy that you are here right now. Plus, when you got sick yesterday, Jon said that your organs were failing. We honestly thought you wouldn’t live through the night. Timotheus monitored you all night. You were murmuring and having seizures. And then Tim called us in, and there you were. Breathing evenly and deeply, as though nothing was wrong.

            “When Jon had checked you heartbeat earlier, it was erratic and rhythmic. But when he checked it again, it was steady and regular,” Heather leaned back, “I don’t know what is wrong with you but you aren’t normal.”

            “Thanks,” I laughed, “That was a very wonderful story, but now please leave.”

            “What?” Heather looked startled.

            “I said leave, please,” I glared at her, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

            Heather stood, “Fine. But think about what I said.”

            “No,” I snapped. My father wasn’t the friendliest man in the world but he wouldn’t try to kill me. He was my dad.

The wood floor was cold against the bottom of my bare feet. I gripped the bannister of the stairs, peering through to see where my dad was. My stomach rumbled loudly, and I bounded down the stairs, skipping two steps at a time. I turned to walk into the kitchen when I saw out of the corner of my eye. Something didn’t seem right.

                  I walked over and saw that there was a woman lying on the ground. She had on a white dress with long, auburn hair spread around her. I slowly went over to her and knelt. The woman was lying on her stomach and I didn’t know if maybe she had been a guest of Dad’s and perhaps she slipped. Maybe hit her head, or was drunk and passed out. Something like that. I grabbed the woman’s shoulder and heaved, turning her over.

                  Instantly, I cried out, leaping back. The woman’s entire front was covered in blood from a slit throat. But that wasn’t what had me shaking in terror – even though it was one of the two major factors. It was the fact that she looked like an older, healthier me. A strong hand grabbed my upper arm without warning and heaved me to my feet. I was spun roughly around and found myself face to face with Dad. He shook me roughly, so hard that my head snapped back and forth.