West Pointe

Chapter Three

Rain thundering on the windows, my mother asked Dad in a hushed tone if he was sure if we were still on the right route, to which he gave a rather unconvincing yes.

How wrong he was.

The heavy rainfall made it impossible to see more than a few steps ahead of the car, the bright headlights failing to dispel the surrounding shadows from the surrounding forests. After trying and failing to sleep, six-year-old me finally raised her head and asked in a slightly drowsy voice if we were there yet.

Mom slightly twisted in her seat to caress my cheeks. “Soon, my darling. Now go to sleep.” Those were her last words to me.

The next thing I knew, we were tumbling down a cliff.

The scene shifted abruptly. One moment, I was tumbling down the cliff; the next, I was a crying six-year-old, my tiny hands pressing on bleeding flesh, pleading for the blood to stop while the relentless rain pounded on the wreck.

My father was in the front seat, his face pale with vacant eyes, contrasting the blood river flowing down his head, where a glaring wound lay.

Mum had held my hand till hers had gone limp, refusing to let go, even in her dying moments.

I jolted up the bed, my hair slick against my face and neck and pillow soaked with sweat. I panting heavily like I'd just run a marathon, my heart racing like a thousand drums.

Tears slipped down my cheeks, startling me back to reality as they splashed onto my hand. I wiped them away furiously, determined not to let the memories break me.

I should have expected this, I only got nightmares when I was highly unsettled, and the events of the previous day served just enough to achieve that. 

This time, though, something felt different. I could have sworn I saw another car trailing us in the dark, and after we tumbled, a shadowy figure stood on the cliff, shining a light into the wreck before disappearing into the night. I shook my head, it doesn't matter, what's happened has happened.

I couldn't help but wonder though, why didn't they help, or call for it? Why did I have to spend two more days with….

Focus, Samantha.

I took a while to collect myself, taking deep breaths to ease the pounding of my heart, so loud I could hear it. In a couple of minutes, I was better, sighing before throwing off my blanket and getting up, glancing down at the wet patch that now graced my bedsheets and pillows from my perspiration before ultimately deciding to grab it, and headed for the washing machine.

After dumping them in, along with soap and running water, I left the washroom, heading back to grab my phone.

The screen lit up with a notification; a message from April that read: ‘Rise and shine, baby girl’.

A bit too early for that, babe, I thought as I set down the phone, leaving to freshen up for a new day. My movements were mechanical, my mind was lost to thought. My instincts were rarely wrong, so why were they screaming at me that the incident at Cape Town wasn't as simple as it seemed? 

The train of thought accompanied me to my office three hours later, when I strolled into the lobby, my high heels making sharp clicks on the polished marble floors. 

“Good morning, Ms West.” The receptionist from behind her massive desk. I nodded back in return, tapping the button that called for my private elevator.

Its doors opened to reveal April leaning in a corner, tapping on her tablet. “I figured it was you,” she said.

I crossed into the elevator with long strides, reaching out to give her a one-sided hug. “Morning, bestie.”