Delilah Recovered **2017 Watty Winner**

Chapter Twenty-one

Jonathan and Delilah made their way through the pouring rain. By the time they had reached their destination, Graceland Cemetery, they were both drenched. Jonathan pulled out a map from his backpack and led them through the grounds with a flashlight. It felt like the eyes on the statues on the headstones were following them.

A few years back, Delilah did a Halloween tour there with her former co-workers. She remembered a few details, it's one of the oldest cemeteries in Chicago built back in 1860 and of course, the grounds are haunted. Wandering through the cemetery, she felt lost in time in a Victorian garden.

As they reached their destination, Lake Willowmere, situated in the middle of the cemetery, the air went from humid and muggy to cold.

"Tell me what we're doing here," Delilah demanded.

"Maria, cast a spell on you when you were an infant to lock down any past life memories. We need to access the supernatural electromagnetic energy here to counteract her spell," he explained.

There was a small rowboat sitting in the pond. She pointed at it, "Do I even want to know?"

He pulled out a thermos, "You're going to get in that boat and drink this poppy tea."

"And what if I say hell no?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Delilah, what did Maria tell you?"

"Drink the tea and learn the truth," she replied holding out her hand reaching for the thermos.

As she settled into the boat, the rain stopped. She looked up at the grey sky, it felt like it was pressing down on her. Her breaths were coming in quick sticcado bursts.

"Once you're in the middle of the lake, drink the tea, and close your eyes. It should take hold pretty fast. I'll be right here waiting for you," he said as he pulled out a pop-up tent from his backpack and started to set it up.

"What if I have some sort of like bad acid poppy trip?"

"It should chill you out and relax you more than anything. I'm right here. Okay?"

She stepped in the boat and began rowing it to the middle of the pond. Once she stopped, she saw apparitions coasting above the water, a little girl with a parasol, a man checking a watch attached to a chain at his waist. Delilah turned back to ask Jonathan if he could see them, but the lake was encompassed in a dense fog. Her hand shook as she unscrewed the thermos.

She drank the bitter licorice tea down and screwed her eyes shut. Her mind slowed down as she chanted, "Reveal the truth." Just as she was about to drift off into sleep, images played like a movie reel.

It was nighttime. The darkness was profound, no street lights or headlights. The muddy road was lit by candles hanging from wooden posts. Delilah was surrounded by crude buildings made of planks of distressed wood. One building looked as though it was fashioned from a hull of a ship. The smell of dirt, burning wood, and manure overtook her senses.

Delilah wore a tight, white linen cap covered by a black-hooded cloak. Her thick, heavy corset pinched into her stomach. She felt a baby kick inside her. With each step she took, her feet were getting stuck in the viscous mud. Her heart was pummeling against her chest as she walked at a brisk pace, glancing over her shoulder.

A sharp contraction almost brought her to her knees as she held onto a wooden stake with a horse tied to it. The horse whined and bucked at her.

Closing in on her was an angry pack shouting. "Kill the witch!"

Her senses leading her way. All she knew was she needed to get to safety. Delilah just about cried with relief as she ran up the church steps. Her body was covered in a cold sweat and her legs were jelly about to give out on her. It took every ounce of energy to pound on the heavy lancet-shaped wooden door. Her knuckles were raw and bloodied from the sharp inlets carved into the door.