Let It Be (A Beatles Story)

Chapter Sixty-Two

We were in the lads' studio, however Brian and George Martin or any of the other assistants were there.  After they had just finished rehearsing A Hard Day's NIght, there was this strange thudding sound, and then a distant voice.  

"What's that?" Paul said.  "Can't you hear it?" 

Then the voice got louder.  It was a woman's voice, and it shrieked horribly, as if she was being tortured.  

"Paul!  Paul!  Help me!"

His eyes widened, ad he dropped his bass, and it landed with a devastating crash on the ground.  Though he didn't notice.  "Mum!  I'm coming!" 

I immediately knew something was wrong.  Grabbing Paul's shoulder, I said, "Wait!  She's gone, Paul.  She's safe, and you know that."

However, Mary's voice continued to shout to Paul, and he began to cry.  John held him back, but he struggled relentlessly against him.  George jumped on Paul too.  The second youngest Beatle cried out.  "Let me go!  It's my mother!  Let me go!"

John shouted at him.  "She's dead!  It's not real!"

But then another voice started to call out.  

"John!  Help!"  

"Mimi!"

There was no stopping him, and when he let go, Paul ran out the door after him.  Though as soon as I did, however, I was lost in a maze, and there was no studio behind us.  

 Voices began to call to George and Ringo, parents and siblings.  I chased after all of them, hearing their screams but unable to see them.  It was a labyrinth of dimly lit corridors, and some parts of it were almost pitch black, making the screams even more frightening.  

Then all noise seemed to die and a voice that made me begin to cry was whispered in my ear.  "Elle, I've come back for you."

I began to run as fast as I could away from where I heard the voice, only then did I hear another shout.  "Elle!  He's got us!"

"Mom!" 

The sounds pounded in my brain: my mother screaming, my grandmother crying and Kirby barking and whining.  And the voice that whispered in my ear was laughing.

"Elle!"

"Mom!" 

Then I thought my heart would burst of fright when I ran into someone.  Paul clasped a hand over my mouth, and whispered, "Quiet," in my ear.  I soon saw why.  

In front of us there was a man in the flickering light, meanwhile we were hiding in the darkness.  He looked right at us, a terrifying smile on his face, however he didn't move; he just stared at us, which made me wonder if he truly saw us or not.  

My father watched us, while Paul and I hid in the shadows, our hearts pounding.  

As a child, before my dad started to unleash his anger on me, if I had nightmares, they would be about some horrific monster, something completely fake that couldn't possibly be real.  The type of things that I could just think away, or run to my mother to hide from.  But that was true horror: that moment when it's real, that you realize the thing in front of you can kill you, but hasn't.

Yet.  

The type that messes with your mind.  

Dad started to sway back and forth on his feet, moving his head side to side.  I almost screamed when he took a step foward towards us.  Then a few more steps.  I felt Paul tense up behind me.  

"Paul is dead...and so is Elle." he chanted.  Ever ten seconds or so, he would say those words again.  "Paul is dead...and so is Elle."

I went to turn and run, but we were in a dead end that wasn't there before.  We had backed overselves into a corner, and he held his arms around me as my dad got closer and closer...