"Kathy."
The name swirls around my head. Kathy. Over, and over, and over again. It's threatening, the way it's whispered in my ear, so eerie, so dangerous. As if the two syllables alone could end me right here and now.
Kathy.
"Stop," I mutter. "Just stop."
"Rude."
I open my eyes. I don't remember ever shutting them, but the second they're open I realize that perhaps remaining in the darkness would have been better.
A fire swells before me, its flames licking the backs of my lids, curling around my ankles— it burns. Each kiss to my skin feels lethal. Each calming caress tainting my blood. "Help!" I shout, though my voice sounds far away. "Someone help me!"
A giggle.
I spin around.
Suddenly I'm in an empty room. The walls are painted a pristine shade of white. White, as if they've never been touched by the sting of ash. I blink hard. Once. Twice. Sunlight streams into the room through the open window, it's blinds dancing with each gust of wind.
"Kathy."
I blink again.
Stickers.
Rubber ducks and rainbows are scattered across the once naked walls. The familiarity of them calls me over, each step aggrandizing in weight. A shudder ripples through me.
"Katy Cat."
"No."
"Please—"
"Stop." My finger appears in front of my face, tracing the perimeter of a cloud. Why is this so familiar?
A crash sounds behind me, and I whirl around to find a crib stationed right in the center of the room. A bundle of fear sprouts in the pit of my stomach. When did that get there?
Wailing.
The sound of a baby's cry crawls past the barrier of my mind, freezing me in place. The crib is empty— it has to be.
"Check," somebody whispers.
I take a cautious step forward. Then another. My feet carry me, seemingly taking charge of my body, the weight of my shoulders nearly unbearable. The crib doesn't seem to be getting closer.
I don't want to stand anymore.
A scream jumps around the room, bouncing off of the walls, slapping me in the face—
"Hey, babe."
Everything goes silent. Hands, rough, calloused hands grab my shoulders, spinning me around.
Dean stands in the doorway, carrying a baby in his arms. He smiles brightly at me, his expression one of adoration. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"
YOU ARE READING
Territorial | On Hold
Fanfiction"I'm not jealous, I'm... territorial. Jealous is when you want something that's not yours. Territorial is protecting what already belongs to you." Effectively severing her memories of October, Kathy does everything in her power to reel in private...
