The Awakening

By CoyleLieb

967 204 166

People are drawn together in the strangest ways but sometimes we have to look deeper into what is below the s... More

1 - The Crow -
2- Run
4 -High Ridges
5 - Neighbours
6 - Glass
7 - A Moment of Clarity
8 - Cascading Raindrops
9 - A Journey to Hell
10 - Phone Calls to Hell
11 - A Waft of Lemons
12 - Charcoal
13 - The Souless Man
14 -Fight
15- Grasping Straws
16 - The Watcher
17 - The Diary
18 - Constant Eyes
19 -Screams
20 -Pencilled Hearts
21- Leather Boots
22 - Confrontation
23 -The Weeping Girl
24 - Help Beyond the Grave

3 - Cassie

65 11 17
By CoyleLieb

The mall had quieted to a soft buzz as the last of the shoppers mulled about the stores. Soon Cassie added to the influx as she exited the shop boosting the present bag and gesturing that she was off to the rest room.

Georgia gave a slight nod to the head before returning her attention to the folded pages of the newspaper resting on the table. The black and white block print title was clever and elusive, four words to sum up something dreadful. A young woman's mutilated corpse had been found in the nearby woods. The animals had found her before the local law enforcement. 

Georgia continued to migrate through the pages looking for a more cheery topic when the announcement dawns on her. She flips to the back, her finger tracing down the page as she reads the names out loud. They come out as a mumble until she lands on the one she is looking for.  

She smiled down at the picture of her daughter, even in the monochromatic Georgia saw the color in the image. Freckled face, bright blue eyes framed by long sun kissed hair. Cassie's laughter was bright and infectious, her eyes always danced with mischief. Georgia could even see it in her picture, her daughter's arms wrapped around a young man who is not much taller than she is. She is looking up at him with affection and he is smiling into the camera. 

Georgia fiercely loved her daughter. The way she reminded her of her father from his easy charm and inherited natural looks. 

Even now, after all this time, her heart still ached at the loss of the man she loved so.  At the very least he had not left her alone.  She was thankful every day that she had a daughter.

Georgia nonetheless dreaded the thought of the empty rooms and the lack of laughter,  when she would only be cooking for one after the wedding.  She wanted the joy she had experienced for her daughter but dreaded the emptiness that would follow after the nuptials.

She could feel her eyes moisten, the tear ducts filling up and her nose twitched. It took all of her resolve not to let tears run down her cheeks openly.

It seemed only yesterday Georgia was telling John she was pregnant.  She recalled the moment he held her in his arms for the first time. She knew he had hoped for a boy, but that did nothing to sway his love. Cassie became his world and their family the focus of his being.

It had made Georgia love the man even more.

It was clichéd to say he would be proud but even that did not make it any less true. John should have been there to walk her down the aisle but fate had stolen him. It was far too early but she treasured every memory and held it in the postcards in her mind.   

The moisture increased in the corners of her eyes and quickly she wiped it away; not wanting to cause a scene in a public place. 

Georgia's nose sniffed and twitched, the aroma of freshly baked cookies filling her nostrils. It made her think of how they used to bake every Sunday when Cassie was little. A mini-apron and kitchen tools, so she could just be like mum. The thought brought a smile to her face and warmed her heart.

Without thinking, Georgia sipped another mouthful of coffee to find it unpleasantly cold, checking her phone she realized how late it was getting. The shops were closing soon and she still needed to grab a few groceries for dinner.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, letting her mind drift to the thoughts of dinner. Her stomach barked in response and although she felt reluctant to move and enter the throng again, it seemed as though Georgia had been waiting for ages and would soon need to sate her hunger.   Letting her eyelids reluctantly open, Georgia glanced at the dial on her watch. It was odd, Cassie had been gone a good thirty minutes. That wasn't like her daughter at all.

Georgia sent a text and waited. No response.

She dialed Cassie's number, no answer.

A strange dryness filled her throat, as a deathly chill settled on her shoulders, it ran the length of her spine and she felt an odd tremble in her limbs; An instinctive gut feeling told Georgia something was wrong.   

She stood, leaving her things at the table and headed to the washrooms, people brushed past her as she continued to force her way into the smaller room. None of it made any sense.

"Excuse me have you seen my daughter? She's 23 years old this tall with long blonde hair?" Panic coated her tongue. The dark haired teenage girl shook her head, her brown eyes alarmed.

She opened the doors of the toilets, one by one, only to be greeted with empty spaces, hope sinking with every step and nausea filling her throat.

Georgia recognized the bag Cassie had been holding earlier. The gift had gone but the bag remained with an empty cup of what looked like hot chocolate. As she reached over to look deeper and see if there was anything else, her heart stopped. There was Cassie's phone and there was no mistaking the unusual case and as it sat there like a brick in the bottom of the toilet.

Something was very wrong, Georgia's heart began to beat loud and fast, it echoed through her ears,  her body shaking, as she held onto the frame of the toilet cubicle for support and a feeling of nausea came over her, as desperate screams escaped her lips.

***

Avery knew all too well before turning the corner what the loud thud she had heard meant. Laying prawn before her, her mother's fingers ticked away on her palms. The broken gestures almost rhythmic. Smoked eyes stared back at her, seeing something beyond their realm.

Avery scooped up the dish towel off the counter top and crawled down to her mother's level. She pulled her head onto her lap resting the back of her neck in the dish towel for comfort. Avery waited for what she knew would happen next.

The convulsions started, a slight tremble in her right leg, jerking and kicking out. It connected with the garbage can sending used napkins and orange rinds scattering across the floor. Avery sighed, cupped her mother's face in her palms and smiled down at her. Tears filled the clouded eyes and poured down her mother's cheeks, her mouth moved and formed incoherent sentences.

What are you seeing now?  

Avery let the words go unspoken. She already knew that her mother would not have an answer to the question she had asked her so many times before. There really was no further point to go there.

Her mother's heels dug into the floor, her legs going straight, her back arching until only her feet and the back of her head connected with the ground. Her head dug into Avery's lap causing her pain but she bit her lip and endured it. It was almost over, only a couple more minutes.

What are you feeling now?

Her mother's arms reached out to the sides wildly, her fingers still moving, the speed picking up as her back arched. Her eyes seared shut and her mouth opened, almost appearing unhinged and a screech escaped, it was a pitiful wail that almost brought on a shudder no matter how many times Avery had heard it.

As always, when Avery thought that she could endure the noise no longer, her mother shut her mouth and her entire body went limp. A sweat covering her entire being.

Avery got up, gently resting her mother's head on the dishtowel and went to retrieve a damp cloth so that she could wipe off her forehead. When she returned her mother had already rolled over onto her side. The episode had passed and her mother was snoring.

It was better than the screaming. They had first started fifteen years ago when Avery was seven years old. It was right after her father had passed away or maybe she had done it before and she was just too young to remember. Either way, it was the first time that she remembered.

It had been overwhelming.  When they had first moved from their home in the suburbs into the city. Their three bedroom bungalow traded in for a newly renovated six hundred foot condo. It was an ancient building that had been completely gutted, the innards replaced with marble, chrome, and sharp corners.

The first box hadn't even been unpacked. Her mother was in the kitchen, the boxes piled in the living room when she asked Avery if she could go get her a pair of scissors. The moment Avery turned her back, her little feet padding against the tiles and started her search, her mother had dropped to the floor.

Avery could not even find the phone. She had to stand there watching her mother convulse not being able to do anything.

Now she had the routine worked out.

Avery sat next to her mother on the floor and dabbed at the perspiration that coated her face and arms, brushing her hair out of her eyes as she worked.

Step two would be to retrieve the bottle of pills from the cupboard next to the sink, leaving two on the table next to a glass of water. Diazepan, for the seizures, although they hardly did much good. It was the latest in a long list of different medications transcribed to her over the years from her doctor. Avery could not remember a time when her mother was not taking something.

The medication usually left her listless and vacant at times. It was like living with a version of her mother that she only ever saw through a transparency. When the veil descended, her mother was spirited and funny. She embraced anything and everything.

Looking at her mother sleeping on the floor, it was hard to reconcile the two as one in the same. She lay curled up on her side, her knees drawn in and her head resting on her arm. Deciding she looked rather uncomfortable Avery fetched a pillow.

Step three involved a glass of wine for herself, pulled the notebook out from on top of the microwave before she sat down on the floor near her mother.

She opened the book to where the pen sat wedged between the pages. Date, time and the string of words she repeated.

Avery jotted down the information, trying to catch the details before they were lost to her.  There has to be a reason this was happening. It had to mean something and she was determined to make sense of it all. 

She scratched the side of her temple trying to piece together what she was missing.  For some strange reason, she had a feeling the answer was closer than first thought; yet that left an uneasy feeling and she didn't know why.


If you liked this chapter please do vote (please hit the star) and if you have time to comment that would mean so much to us as , as your feedback inspires us and we thrive on feedback.

We would love to hear from you and feel free to message us here on our joint profile or on personal profiles Kimberley S B Lieb wrightstory  and Heather Coyle h_coyle

No part of this may be reproduced or transmitted in any forms or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission of the authors.

Many thanks Kimberley S B Lieb and Heather Coyle

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