Mary woke with a start, her sheets and clothing soaked in sweat. The nightmare was always the same. A distorted memory from when she was a child. A memory that now, so many years later, she doesn’t even know how much of it was real and how much was fiction created by her own imagination and fear.
Mary calmed her breathing. She took slow deep breaths and tried to focus on the present, taking in the items in her childhood bedroom. A table near the bed held an old wooden horse, a framed photograph of her and her parents, and an old diary from when her concerns involved boys and teachers and she didn’t like.
The room was shrouded in darkness. Only a little moon light broke through the curtains, falling here and there, but only faintly. It was enough though, and Mary could see and focus on her dresser where more pictures were taped to the mirror, an old jewelry box placed precariously on the edge, containing nothing but costume jewelry and some plastic rings, and an old doll she had received for Christmas one year lying face down on a pile of discarded makeup.
This was the last place she wanted to be. This old house held too many memories for her, too many losses and heartaches. Mary had only arrived the day before and was already looking forward to leaving. A neighbor had called her a few days before and broke the news that her mother had died. At first, she was stunned, not fully realizing what the neighbor what message the neighbor trying to relay to her. But in the end, she understood, and knew she was going to have to make the trip to settle her mother’s estate.
Mary swung her legs from the bed and onto the floor, the wooden floor cold under her feet. As she put her weight on the floorboards they creaked and groaned. Mary closed her eyes and worked up the courage to walk across the room and out her bedroom door.
“There is nothing under my bed,” she told herself, breathing slow and deep, but hurrying to the door and rushing out of the room.
The hallway was cold. The house was cold. The early 1800’s farmhouse had been in Mary’s family for years. It originally sat on over a thousand acres, but over the years the property was drastically reduced until all that remained was a couple acres and the house. The only upgrades to the house were the electricity and plumbing, everything else remained the same – including the insulation, or the lack thereof. So, in the fall and winter, the house grew chilly, very chilly.
Mary walked down the stairs and into living room. She quickly started a fire to warm the house up, and hopefully flush away some of the memories still swirling around in her head. The residual thoughts of the nightmare would be with her for a few hours: the woods, the mist, the cries … the frozen pond.
She caught her breath. This was the first time Mary had been back to the farmhouse in years. The first time she had an opportunity to face her fears head on. An opportunity to vanquish them and maybe, just maybe, get a good night’s sleep for a change. No nightmares, no more waking up screaming drenched in sweat, and no more haunting images that she couldn’t shake.
Mary grabbed her jacket, pulled her boots on, and made her way out into the moon lit snow. She paused on the porch and wonder if she should wait until first light. She could see her breath freezing in the air as it left her lips, feel the coldness in the air, but couldn’t shake the idea. This could be it. This could be the last time she has to wake up scared, sad, and fighting for her life.
It was short walk to the woods. She had made that journey so many times as a child. The trees looked so familiar, so inviting, so friendly. Mary brushed their bark with her ungloved hand as she walked past them and into the woods. It had been years since she had been out there, but she instinctively knew the way.
In no time, she had reached the frozen pond. The memories of come out here with her little sister were so strong now. She could almost see herself dancing on the ice, sliding around with her sister’s hand in hers. Laughing, giggling, and enjoying the first snowfall of winter. They had been so happy and loud that they didn’t hear the ice crack beneath them. They didn’t hear the splintering of the weak ice, not until it as too late. Mary had been able to get out of the water, but she couldn’t see her baby sister, her best friend. Mary ran as fast as she could back to the house to get her dad, and he brought others. They searched for hours to find her, but they never did.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you,” Mary said, a tear sliding down her cheek.
Mary stepped out on the ice. It felt strong beneath her foot. She slowly walked out onto the frozen pond, spinning around and around, wishing her sister was there with her now. She could almost see her, standing at the edge of the pond, laughing and giggling, her blond hair blowing around her face in the cold wind.
Sarah was always too scared to walk out on to the ice. The only reason she had that day, was because Mary had convinced her it was safe. Mary told her it was safe to be on the ice. Mary had told her nothing would happen to her, and that she would be okay.
“I’m so sorry I made you come out on the ice,” Mary said, dropping to her knees and crying.
An audible crack broke the silence as Mary’s knees hit the ice. The ice creaked and groaned like the floorboards in her room.
Mary could see her little sister standing at the bank of the frozen pond. Her blonde hair billowing about her pink cheeks as she waved to Mary. Mary smiled and waved as she slipped beneath the ice, her breath frozen in her lungs as was engulfed by the freezing water. The sheets of ice covering her face, the weeds pulling her deeper into the icy depths of the pond. Mary was going to be with her sister again. Her nightmare now a dream.
About the Creator
Todd Henson
I've been writing for several years. I've self-published several books. I've done a little bit of everything, try to experience everything, and hope to do a little better every day.
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