A Deep and Dark December(49)

Graham jammed his hands in his pockets and looked back at Donald. Maybe he’d know what was happening. He went to the man and sank back down in the chair next to him.

“Donald?”

Donald turned his head toward him with eyebrows raised.

“Do you know what’s happening? To you? To Cerie?”

“Happening?” Donald looked at Graham, his gaze fixed and unfocused. But wait. Graham could see it. A spark. A fire burning deep and fierce.

No. Not vacant.

Trapped.

Trapped within his own mind.





Erin sat at her aunt’s bedside, holding the hand that had wiped her tears, braided her hair, and waved to her from their front porch everyday as she came home from school. She didn’t know what she and her father would have done without Aunt Cerie. She’d come into their lives and everything that lay between Erin and her father had been put to rest.

Her parents’ growing arguments had dotted Erin’s days and nights with paralyzing dread, relieved only by bouts of guilt. She’d lie in her bed night after night, listening, knowing what was going to happen and unable to stop it. She’d seen it. Late one night, two months shy of her eighth birthday, Erin had awoken to the muffled sound of her parents’ shouting. When the startling, terrifying silence came, she curled into a ball, squeezing her eyes shut. She knew her father was standing in the open doorway, watching her mother’s taillights fade into the distance. He’d cried. Erin hadn’t.

Aunt Cerie had arrived a few days later and had never left. And now here she was in a hospital bed, her eyes jittering back and forth beneath her eyelids, her breath catching and hitching in her chest. She owed her aunt so much. Cerie let out a fretful sound, the kind a frightened child makes, and her hand jerked from Erin’s. The alarm on the machine next to the bed suddenly went off, jolting Erin to her feet.

Erin did the only thing she could think of, she gripped Cerie’s hand and reached out with her mind, not knowing if her aunt could hear her or not. I’m here, Auntie. It’s okay. I’m right here. Everything’s going to be all right.

After a moment, Cerie settled in the bed, but her eyes still darted back and forth beneath her eyelids.

A frazzled-looking nurse bustled in and pressed a few buttons, putting an end to the noise of the machine. She flipped through papers on a clipboard. “Looks like we’ll have to increase her dosage,” she said.

“Dosage of what? What’s wrong with my aunt?” Erin asked, trying to keep the fear from her voice.

“I’ll send the doctor in to talk with you. He’s just finishing up with another patient.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you okay?” The nurse asked, pointing to her own nose. “You’re bleeding.”

Startled, Erin touched a finger to her nostril and it came away red. It was getting worse.

“Here.” She handed Erin a box of tissues. “You better sit down. Apply pressure. Don’t tilt your head back.”

Erin did as instructed. “Thank you,” she mumbled around a wad of tissues.

“I’ll send the doctor in to speak with you shortly.”

Erin continued her silent ramblings, which seemed to soothe Cerie considerably. She wasn’t as agitated as she’d been when Erin first arrived. Erin focused her thoughts, keeping them positive. After a few moments, her nose stopped bleeding so she went into the bathroom to clean up. When she came out, a doctor was at her aunt’s bedside, listening to her chest.

He looked up as Erin came into the room. “Hello. I’m Doctor Frost.” He took the stethoscope out of his ears and slung it around his neck, then gently raised Cerie’s eyelids, shining a light back and forth.

“I’m her niece, Erin.”

“Can you tell me about what’s been happening with your aunt?”

What could Erin say? That her aunt was a mind reader? That someone was messing with her ability? All of their abilities. That her aunt didn’t have the same defenses as she and her father and that’s why she was so affected? “She’s been having severe head pain off and on.”

“When she came in, she was nonresponsive.” He flipped up the blanket covering Cerie’s feet, took out a wheelie thing and rolled it over her the contours of her foot. “She’s not responding to pain. Has she had an accident? Maybe a fall?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“Is she on any medication, prescription or otherwise?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Does she have a history of migraines or high blood pressure? Seizures? Mental disorders?”

“No. None of those. She’s always been healthy.”

The doctor felt her aunt’s scalp, her neck. “No signs of trauma. I want to run some tests. Mostly neurological.”

Erin didn’t ask what the doctor was looking for. There was nothing in this hospital that could help her aunt. “Is she…suffering?”

He straightened and looked at Erin. “We’ve got her under sedation. She was quite agitated when she first arrived.”

“But is she in any pain?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. She’s not responding to the medication as she should, so I’ve prescribed a higher dose sedative. I’m concerned about her heart. Is there a history in your family of heart disease or high blood pressure?”