Beloved: Memoir of a Phantom

Chapter 6- The evening at my house

                   CHAPTER 6

             The evening at my house

I decided against going to the Jitters for my usual Monday night attempt on artistic inspiration. My afternoon outing had left me feeling emotionally and physically drained; not to mention I still could not keep anything down.

Maybe the cafeteria lunch I had that day was a little past date after all? Or maybe it was what I had read at the museum that made me sick and worked up? All that I knew was that I would go near neither again and went straight to bed as soon as I got in.

I had a strange dream that I was trapped in a wooden cage that was on fire and Gabriel stood two feet away with the key to the chain that kept me trapped resting in his palm. I begged him to let me out and he kept muttering about how he could not help and how it was meant to happen. He was slowly backing away from me into the black oblivion until I could no longer see him. I cursed him for not helping me, as I felt the flames lick at my face and every inch of my body.

I sat bolt upright screaming and plummeted back to the mattress that was covered in sweat. My mother came in to see what all of the commotion was. I explained that it was just a bad dream and that I was fine. She ran into the bathroom and got me a cold cloth for my forehead and asked me to explain all that had happened in it and what I had read at the museum.

I told her the weird dream and then began to tell her that I had found out about the Hume sisters and what had happened to all of their natural born descendants since then. My mother looked concerned about what I told her then she got up and went into the hallway and shouted down to my father in the living room. Apparently it was only 10:20pm and they hadn’t been to bed yet.

“Jerry, you better come up here.” She shouted and a few minutes later my father appeared in my doorway.

“What’s going on up here?” He asked a little confused as to why he was summoned.

“She knows, Jerry.” My mother said bluntly.

“About what?” he asked.

“The missing pages of the family book.” She hissed under her breath and glared at him a moment before he clued in.

“Oh! Oh…um…” he stuttered nervously drumming his fingers on my footboard.

“I’m a little confused by what I had found out and I have some questions.” I said calmly.

“Alright, I’ll try to answer the best I can.” He said nervously. It was obvious he would much rather be lost in the sports pages of his newspaper right now than having this conversation.

“I’m bothered by the things I had read and I need to know. Am I the eighth descendant that the curse speaks of?” I asked quickly.

He hesitated a moment and looked to my mother before answering. “Yes. Yes you are.”

“So I am doomed to be the death-bringer to this town? Is that why everyone hates me?” I fired.

“Um…well I wouldn’t say doomed…” My father stumbled.

“What your father is trying to say is that yes, you are the eighth female child born, but you aren’t necessarily doomed because of it. You choose who you are going to be and what you will do; not some prophecy that was spurted from the lips of a dying woman well over 100 years ago. All you have to do is keep those special gifts of yours in check as we have been doing all of these years and you will turn out fine.” My mother smiled nervously at me. I was starting to feel a little better about what I had discovered.