Cool water trickled along the edges of Evie’s temples. The
sensation of a rough, damp rag being slowly dragged across her forehead could
be determined through the muggy mess of Evie’s battered mind. Slowly, her eyes
fluttered open. Light spread across her vision, blurring the outlines of
reality. She blinked, once, twice, three times.
“Mother?”
Evie said. Her mother stood over her, a concerned expression plastered across
her stern and wizened face. A soft moan escaped the corner of the room. Evie
turned her head, slowly, dazed. Rick stood in the corner, clutching handfuls of
his short dark hair. His eyes were squinted up tight as if to fight off some
invisible pain.
“What
happened?” Evie asked, alarmed and disgusted all at once. She reached for her
neck, trying to clutch at the small golden locket her father had given her. It
wasn’t there.
“Mom,
where is my locket?” Evie asked in a calm, strained voice.
“Evie,
I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vanessa said, clearly frazzled.
“My
locket? The one dad gave me?”
“I’m
sorry sweety but your father never gave you a locket…”
Evie wracked her brain for information. There was a beast, a
mugging, the other world. And her father. Her father! He had been sick, but now…
“What
happened?” Evie asked. Evie’s mom looked conflicted, her face contorting.
“Your
father…threw a bottle…it hit you. You’ve been asleep for two days.”
“I’m so
sorry Evie…” her father whispered. His voice cracked and fell away like shards
from one of his rum bottles. “I just can’t seem to…” but his voice cut off.
Evie rolled onto her side, struggling with the idea that everything which had
happened in the last week wasn’t real. Wondering the same thing she always
wondered- why was it, Evie was always the one to take on her father’s ghosts?
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