Chapter 3
"Just relax and remember," Blake and Amy are lighting candles and dimming the lights so I can concentrate.
"But I do remember their death. It's one of the only things I remember," T.B.T is hard to forget when I watched it happen right in front of me.
"No, you remember what your head wants to remember. You remember what the newspaper says. A group of burgalars broke in and when your parents tried to stop them they were stabbed and shot," Tears sting my eyes as I remember my mother hiding me in the small, broom closet under the staircase that locked from the inside. I push it back.
"Ok, then what really happened?" My head is already throbbing with memories trying to make their way to the front of my brain. I groan in pain and grip the couch as I vaguely feel Blake's hand on my shoulder, "Just rememeber.." And suddenly, I do.
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"Happy Birthday little storm cloud," Mother smooths my hair down and kisses my cheek after she's done washing dishes. I hear a knock on the wall.
"Honey, Liam and Grace are about to leave," She nods and we walk out of the kitchen to say goodbye to our guests. It's Blake. My inner self gasps, but I'm too entrapped in the memory to do anything about it. He looks to be a few years older than my 11 year old self, but he still has that smirk on his face. I run up to hug him and he hugs back.
"Come back soon Blakey," I inwardly cringe at our closeness and feel guilty for not remembering him. He pulls out of the hug and touches my forehead.
"I'll come visit you here, like always. Just don't tell my dad," His voice is a whisper and he winks at me which causes a giggle to leave my lips. Suddenly, I'm reminded of the dream I had that he intruded on. Was it really him? Is that his Energy?
"Bye again guys, we'll be visiting you soon," My dad gives them a knowing look and I recall his phone call. I guess we were going to live with them, but then it happened. After they are long gone my mom is putting me to bed and my dad is in his room.
"You seem to of taken a liking to Blake, little miss Rayne," I blush at her teasing and snort.
"Mom c'mon. I'm 11 and he's like a billion years old. You always told me guys have cooties," I tease her back and we laugh. I feel a pang in my chest seeing my mother's face so vividly. So real. It is real.
All of a sudden I hear something hit the door. I gasp and jump and my mother yells for my father. He runs in and gives my mom a sharp nod. I've never seen him so serious. He gives me a soft sad glance before he runs out of my room again and my mom is rushing me down the staircase.
"Dad!" My mom hushes me and ushers me into the broom closet.
"Stay here Rayne. Don't come out and don't unlock the door, I mean it," She turns off the light and before I can register what's happening she's gone. I feel the tears rolling down my cheek as I hear shouting and crashes of glass. I hear a thud, and then silence. It's too silent. I can't take it anymore. I unlock the door and creep to where the noises came from. I see chunks of glass on the floor and...and drops of blood. My heart leaps into my throat and I swallow a sob as I follow the mess. 'They're only hurt. It's completely ok, daddy got the bad guy I just know it.' I turn around the corner to enter the living room and see a figure on the floor. My heart drops.
"Daddy.." My voice is hushed as I run forward, not caring about the glass that is cutting into my feet. I fall down onto the floor, brusing my knees, and shake my dad.
"Dad, daddy please get up. We have to go find mom, please dad! Get up, get up!" Tears are streaming down my face and sobs are ripping through my chest. I pound his chest a few times and finally stop to lay my head on him. I stare at him and I begin to feel fuzzy. My inner self becomes confused at this feeling but the memory me seems to be familiar with it. My head becomes lighter and I almost see this white, eletric line wrap around my hands but it's gone when a thought comes to mind. Mom.
