The Whispers

The Whispers - Part 3

It was a Friday when the first one came.

Silent Amanda had decided to go back to school earlier that week, and Eloise was alone. Her daughter still hadn't said a word. She had just gotten up that Monday, dressed, eaten breakfast, and then waited by the door with her backpack. Eloise drove her to school, met briefly with her teachers, who were all aware of her condition. They would all support her return, not pressure her to talk, and see how things progressed. Her two best friends rallied at her side, promising to stay with her during the day as much as they could. When Eloise called the family therapist they'd been seeing, Dr. Ben, he thought that this was a promising step.

Eloise, naturally, wasn't sleeping well at night. She couldn't stand to lie down in the dark and try to close her eyes. So she kept the television on, her eyes plastered to the screen until she fell asleep. She didn't want one moment alone in the dark with her thoughts. As a result, she woke up many times in the night.

On the Thursday after Amanda started school again, Eloise had a strange dream. She awoke with the television filling the room with its glow, Amanda sleeping deeply beside her (as was her habit since the accident). Her daughter's breathing was soft and measured, like waves lapping on the shore. Over that, Eloise heard the sound of sobbing. She froze, listening-afraid but somehow not afraid. Then the sound had stopped. After a moment, she wasn't sure she'd heard it at all.

But that Friday afternoon, the house so quiet, so lonely that Eloise decided she would sleep rather than be aware of the gaping emptiness inside her and out. So she was dozing on her bed when she awoke to hear the sound again. It didn't stop, so Eloise had no choice but to go downstairs, from where the crying seemed to originate. Was she dreaming again? She felt floaty as she reached the bottom landing and moved into the living room.

The girl, not more than thirteen, sat on the floor of the living room, huddling her small body into the tight right angle where the fireplace hearth jutted out from the wall. Her hair hung in limp, dirty ropes, her shirt with some kind of writing on it, and jeans wet and filthy. She shivered, sobbing weakly. Her stare was blank. It looked like shock.

It was like it was with Alfie. Not a dream. Something else.

"Why didn't I listen to her?" the girl asked. "I wasn't even supposed to be out here."

"Where are you?" Eloise asked.

The girl looked up, startled, as if she'd heard something. But she looked right through Eloise.

"Oh God," the girl said. Then she started yelling, startling Eloise terribly. "Help! Please help me!"

Then Eloise was there with her-wherever it was-sitting in waist-deep, foul-smelling water. Eloise started shivering with wet and cold, her body aching all over as if she'd taken a terrible fall. The stone walls all around her were slick with algae. She waded over to the girl, who was not aware of Eloise at all. She wrapped herself around the child. She was as fragile as a skeleton, so tiny.

"Mommy," the girl whimpered. "Mommy."

"I'll help you," Eloise said. She had no idea why she said it. She didn't know who this girl was or where she was. Eloise had no way of helping her. Still, what else was there to say?

Eloise awoke on the carpet of her living room, afternoon sun washing in through the sheer drapes, dappling on the floral chintz sofa that badly needed replacing. How long had she been lying there?

Amanda was standing over her, her backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Mom?" she said. "What's wrong?"

It took a moment to register, and then Eloise was whooping with delight. She leaped off the ground and took Amanda into her arms. What a joy to hear the sound of her voice! The rush of happiness and relief that washed through her felt like a drug. She'd experienced nothing but grief and anger and fear and pain for months. Eloise quickly forgot the strange dream she had. Well, not really. But she pushed it away. Hard.

"What's the big deal?" said Amanda. She wore a shy and sad smile. "I just lost my words for a while."

Eloise found that funny and terribly sad. There were no words for what had happened to them. None at all. She started to laugh, then cry. And then, finally, Amanda started to cry. Eloise led her over to the couch where Amanda cried and cried and cried, then took a break and cried some more. And Eloise sat, with her daughter sobbing in her lap. The sound of it was beautiful. Anything was better than silence. Eloise felt as if someone had opened a window and let the air in again. She could almost breathe.

***

Eloise had forced herself to buy a used Volkswagen with the car insurance money. There had also been a large life insurance payout, which gave them a little bit of time before she figured out what she was going to do to support them moving forward. Eloise had started driving again as soon as the doctor said it was okay, because she wanted

Amanda to see her doing it. She needed her daughter to know that they were strong enough to get through this-even if Eloise wasn't totally convinced of it herself. Fake it until you make it. It worked.

That afternoon of the dream and Amanda talking, they drove to the family therapist they'd been seeing for an emergency session. Amanda had been coming with Eloise all along, though naturally Eloise had done all the talking. Eloise and the doctor had agreed that it would be healing for Amanda to sit in on the sessions, even if she didn't say anything right away.

"Why today?" Dr. Ben asked Amanda.

She offered a lazy teenager shrug. "My mom needs me," said Amanda. "She's been so strong. But I think it's getting to her."

"Why do you say that?"

Amanda told him that Eloise had started sleepwalking, that she had found her mother on the living room floor this afternoon.

"Is that true?" asked Dr. Ben.

Now it was Eloise's turn to shrug. She really didn't want to get into this. "I suppose I had some kind of dream today." She did not say that there was a girl sitting in her living room. And that it didn't seem like a dream at all. That she had this gnawing sense that there was something she was supposed to do but had no idea what. She wasn't going to say any of that.

"It's not the first time," said Amanda.

"Isn't it?" said Eloise, surprised.

"She walks around at night, talking to people who aren't there."

Eloise shook her head at the doctor to indicate that this was news to her.

"No awareness of this, Eloise?" he asked. He pushed his glasses back, wore a concerned frown.

"None," she said.

He jotted down some notes. He didn't seem especially concerned with the content of her dreams, just that she was dreaming and moving about.

"Sleepwalking can be a side effect of the medication you're taking."

She had been prescribed Ambien, but she'd never taken it. She told him as much.

"Well, dreams and nightmares are to be expected in cases like this. It's your psyche's way of working through the trauma you've experienced."

She wanted to argue that what she'd experienced wasn't precisely a dream. But she wasn't going to open that can of worms, so she just nodded solemnly and said she understood. Which she did, because it seemed like Psychology 101. She promised that she'd bring it up again next session if the sleepwalking continued.

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Check back for new installments of The Whispers on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays! Visit www.lisaunger.com to learn more and follow Lisa on Facebook at www.facebook.com/authorlisaunger and Twitter at www.twitter.com/lisaunger.