Clara Moore and the Creatures of the Night

"Not defined by fate"

Chapter 4

Thunder cracked outside the window like a whip, and the rain fell harder onto the tin roof. A girl lay curled up under her duvet, yet the cold ran like ice through her veins making a shiver roll down her spine. She wondered when the rain would stop, when she could sleep again without the racket keeping her awake. She began to count to pass time, one... two... three. Her shivers slowed. 129.. 130.. 131. She felt her body relax, fall deeper into her mattress, as sleep finally began to consume her. Just as she started to let go, let the sleep take over, the phone rang and like lightening she sat up.

A light in the hallway turned on, and she heard her mother's footsteps creak on the wooden floorboards as she hurried to pick the receiver up. Odd she thought, who would call at this hour of the morning? Curious, she pushed back the duvet and slipped her legs out. She drew in a breath as her feet hit the frozen floors. One foot in front of the other, she tiptoed to the door and opened it a fraction, so she could peek out.

She saw her mother, her hair a mess of knots and her pink dressing gown pulled tightly around her. She was standing with the receiver pressed to her ear, muffling into the phone.

"Agnes, you do realise it's 3 in the-" her mother was cut off, and she saw her face wrinkle in frustration.

"What do you mean you tried to come? Agnes, please. You don't make any sense..."

There was a long silence before her mother spoke again. When she next opened her mouth, her voice sounded hollow.

"There's been an accident? Well, is he alright?" The words lingered unanswered like frost in the room.

The girl's body froze at the door, and instantly she knew who her mother was referring too. Her brother, who was living in New York with their Aunt. He left last year to take a job offer at a big electrical station. She hadn't seen him since, but he called often to talk on the phone.

She heard her mother gasp, cover a hand to her mouth. Another shiver rolled down her spine, but this time it wasn't from the cold. Something was wrong, she could feel it. She saw her mother's body shake, heard a muffled sob and watched her hollow figure sink to the floor.

"He can't be!" She cried into the phone, "No, he can't be... My boy!" Her mother wailed.

Everything around her, the floor under her feet and door frame she desperately clung to, was ripped from her grasp, and suddenly the room around her felt like a small dark closet. She felt trapped, the walls had caved in and the air was sucked from her lungs, making every breath a dying effort.

Not bearing the pain anymore the girl let out a yearning cry from her bedroom as she gave in and let her body fall faint. As her head hit the floor, a sound filled her ears. Her mother screaming out to her, "CLARA-".

***

"Clara?" A voice called out her name but this time it wasn't her mother's scream.

Sticky sweat covered her body as she lay tangled within her bed sheets. Slowly, Clara peeled her eyelids open only to squint at the late autumn afternoon sun that shone through the silk blue curtains.

"Clara?" the voice chimed again, and she moaned as she rolled over to peer in the direction of the voice. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and took a moment to reflect on her recurring nightmare that haunted her sleep. The memory of her discovering her brother's death was one that surfaced not just at night, but during her waking hours as well.