Turning Tables (CTYBT sequel) (ON HIATUS)

Chapter 1

*Demi's POV*

I trace and retrace the letters of my daughters name. The last thing we told each other was 'I love you'. Every once in in a while, I can't help but wonder what she might've been thinking about before I flew through the windshield. What was going on in that beautiful mind of hers?

Wilmer doesn't remember the accident, which left me paralyzed. It's a good thing, in a way. He remembers my long lasting search for Annabelle, but nothing else about her. He doesn't remember her dark brown hair or brown eyes.

A light breeze picks up. I look up at Bec, who rubs her eyes and gapes at something to the right of me.

"Bec?" I ask, turning my head to where she's looking. Nothing's there. Turning back, I repeat myself. "Bec?"

"I...ummm..." She starts, then shakes her head. "Nothing."

I raise my eyebrows, suspicious. "You sure, love?"

"Yeah." She looks back at Annabelle's headstone, lips curled into a frown.

*Rebecca's POV*

Mom, Bri, and I drive back home. I'm in the driver's seat. I look in the rear view mirror and notice that Joe's not far behind us.

"Should I tell them?" At the cemetery, I saw something insane. I saw Annabelle clear as day. Stubbornly, I thought she wasn't real because, let's face it, she's somewhere better. Now, I'm not sure she's really at peace.

"Bec! Bec, can you see me?" She had asked when I first looked at her. All I had done was gaped at her and rubbed my eyes. After mom got my attention, she was gone.

"Bec, watch the road!" Mom shouts. I leave my phase and swerve into the right lane, wide eyed and terrified. My hands shake uncontrollably. "What the hell?"

"You okay, Bri?" I ask.

"Yeah." She says.

"You'd better watch the road next time, Bec." An oh-so familiar voice sounds. I look in the rear view mirror again. Annabelle! My eyes shift back to the road. "You're gonna have to talk to me sooner or later. Preferably sooner because there are things I know that you don't."

I squint my eyes...when did she become so cold hearted? What wouldn't I know? For crying out loud, she was on the way to rehab when the accident happened! The rest of the fairly short drive is silent. When we pull into the garage and walk inside, Bri shouts, "Dad, we're home!"

All three of us are worried, I can tell, when we receive no response. I call, "Dad?"

"Wilmer?" Mom shouts. She extends her arms toward me, worry clouding her brown eyes. I lean down, grabbing her legs. She wraps her arms tightly around my neck and shoulders as I lift her onto my back...what?! She isn't that heavy!

"Bri, check down here. Mom and I will go upstairs." I look back at Bri. She doesn't move, and I say, more forcefully this time, "Bri!"

Her eyes dart to me, then she dashes to the kitchen. With mom on my back, I climb the stairs. The first place I walk to is their bedroom.

"Put me down." Mom says, lightly squeezing my arm. As I put her on the bed, I look into the hallway and nearly drop her. There's a thin trail of blood that stops just outside the door. How is it possible that neither of us noticed?

"Mom?" My voice cracks as I speak. I realize that I never let go of her legs. She wraps her arms around my neck and shoulders again as Annabelle's words come to my mind.

"--there are things I know that you don't." I didn't get it before, but I feel like I'm on the right track now. Does she know where dad is? She must have seen what happened. Stepping into the hallway, I feel mom burry her head in the crook of my neck. Following the trail, I find myself in front of the guest bedroom.

I look at the wall, and my mouth drops to the floor in shock. Written in red on the far wall is the message, "If you follow me or call the cops, he dies."

Luckily, moms head is still buried in my neck. Walking to the side, I set mom on the floor. "Stay here, okay?"

She opens her mouth to protest, but I'm back in the guest bedroom before she can say anything. Closing the door, I head over to the wall, climbing over objects on my way. Swiping my finger in the red liquid, I notice it's thickness. It's too thick to be blood, so it must be paint. The rest of the room is a mess; the bed sheets are torn and tattered, the mattress is on the floor, and there's blood on one of the walls and the floor. The dresser is tipped on its side, a couple of the drawers are on the floor, broken.

The door creaks open, and I hear mom's screams and cries. Rubbing my finger on my pants, I make my way out of the room, kneeling beside my mom. I make sure to close the door so Bri doesn't see. I pull my mom into a hug and she sobs into my shoulder. Just as I pray Bri doesn't walk down the hall, I see her climb the last step and run down the hall towards us.

"Dear God..." I silently pray. Bri slows as she nears us and looks at the closed door. "Bri, don't open that door."

She makes her way to it. "Bri! Brianna, don't!"

As soon as she reads the message on the far wall, her back hits the opposite wall and tears spring from her eyes.