. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . where ImagInatIon comes to play

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Punctured

part xi:
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Jane came to in the dark of night. At least that was her initial assessment. That smell . . . where did she . . . it couldn’t be. No.

No! She screamed, but the sound that reached her ears was stifled, a barely audible 'o' sound.

Jane struggled to shake herself awake from what must be another dream. The bit of movement she managed set off the echo of chains at her feet. Fifteen years of her life vanished then. When she blacked out, Jane’s head fell to her chest. And in her restless patchwork dream-state, Susie came and went.

It was the happy child who appeared to her, the one with that eternal smile and a laughter that reverberated from room to room of their once happy home. Jane called out to her, running after her little sister through the big ol’ Victorian house. She could hear the faintest of whispers, Susie saying, It’s okay Jane. I like it here . . . everything is yellow and sunny . . . Goodbye Jane . . . bye J –

No! Susie! Please don’t go. Susie . . . Jane ran from room to room looking for the little girl who loved wearing dresses and pretty things in her long blond mane.
Susie! . . .Susie! . . . Susie . . .
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