Disconnected (7 page)

Chapter Twelve

The room is pitch-black as I lie in bed. I must have drifted off to sleep. I wonder why it's so horribly dark. Usually you can see the moonlight peering through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, but not now. Something seems wrong, yet I don't know what it is.

I get up off the bed and feel my way around as if I'm a blind person and eventually come to a wall—and luckily without stepping on anything either. I feel around for a light switch and as I'm feeling my fingers run across some kind of border in the middle of the wall. Finally I feel the switch and flick it on. Dear God, not again!

It's the same toddler's room I dreamt about a few nights ago. So am I dreaming now? How could I be? It feels so real.

I look at the rainbow border and suddenly feel woozy from either the lines in the wallpaper or because I am so boxed in without any windows. I go to the door, open it and again hear people downstairs. But this time, it sounds like a party since music's playing and people are laughing.

At the other end of the room, someone is standing with her back turned to me. I don't know if it's my mom or someone else, not sure. They have something draped over their head—similar to the hooded man I've seen before. Could it be him?

I start to walk down the steps when all of a sudden, Amelia stops me.
Don't go, Milly, don't do it. He's going to hurt you.

I'm not quite sure why she would say something like that. I begin to think she's right this time, unlike so many other times before.

I take a step back, there in the middle of the stairwell.

“Amelia, where are you?” It's my father, groping to find his way through the smoke. He's coughing up blood and his face is all covered in soot.

Scared and shocked, I turn around and run down the hall. But I am not running, I am floating and moving slower than I would like. I feel stuck, like I'm moving in quicksand.

I run into an empty room, curl up into a ball in the corner and put my head down to close my eyes. But I can still hear someone coming as the creaking of the floor gets closer and closer.

“Please dear God, let me wake up,” I chant to myself. “Please wake me.”

I repeat that over and over as if it's going to break this spellbinding nightmare. But when I look up, I'm still trapped in this horrible dream. Someone is standing over me. My father? No. It's the hooded man.

“Take my hand,” he says. “Come with me, Milly. We need to hurry.”

He knows my name and yet I haven't a clue as to who he is. And just when I reach for his hand, I see that it's my father again.

“Don't be afraid, Amelia.”

And just as he leans in to grab me, I feel a pressing on my chest. Fur is in my mouth.

I open my eyes to see Jinks is on top of me, trying to wake me up.

“Okay buddy, I'm up. And it's a good thing too.”

He purrs and head-butts me gently as if saying, “Glad to see you again too.”

I think of the dream and wonder what it could have meant. Then Amelia interrupts my thoughts.
Milly, how stupid could you be? Don't you remember anything?

***

Hours have passed and I am wide awake. As I stare at the ceiling fan twirling at low speed, my mind wanders in an abyss of wondering. Why am I having these dreams like this? What really happened to my father and my mother? Why don't I remember any details about the car crash?

My mind searches endlessly, and—Amelia being dead silent—my thoughts shift to my journal again. I have so many things written in that thing, but even I am not sure what they are. Usually I don't read much of what I write. Why not? Because writing it down is like another form of release. And when I am through, I forget about it and feel better. It's like venting on paper. The pages of my journal hold secret things, things I've never shared with anyone else. Amelia often forbids me to read it once I've written something down. Like she wants to punish me in some way, whatever way she can. But now lying here in bed I'm thinking maybe I should read it. It would help me remember the things that happened to me in the past. I will just have to will myself to read it and suffer the consequences Amelia has for me. I must read that journal. Once I find it, that is.

***

2:03 a.m. and I haven't gotten a wink of sleep since the nightmare. I wonder if I should get out of bed and do something instead of staring into the nothingness.
Yes, get up, Milly. Get up and look through those boxes.

Amelia's urging ways get me out of bed and back to the closet again. Jinks gets up too, stretches, and follows me to the closet door. I creep inside, turn on the light and take a seat on the cold hardwood floor.

I reach into the box and pull out an old baseball cap. I imagine it's my father's, but when I turn it over, the initials K.N. are scribbled on the inside tag. That doesn't ring a bell, so I set the hat aside and continue rummaging through the box. There's an old wooden jewelry box and when I open it, the name Violet is etched inside the lid. I put it down to keep searching through the box. I flip through the stack of pictures and papers. I come across a photo of my mother when she was young, standing with Grandpa George. The picture is in black and white and you can tell it's older than the hills. Most of the pictures are. There are more of my mom, mostly alone, sitting there playing near the ocean where they used to vacation years and years ago. Then I stumble on a picture of Aunt Rachel and my mother together. Aunt Rachel is tall and skinny and looks about sixteen or seventeen. Even though they were only four years apart, my mother looks much younger. I look closer. Is that even her?

As I thumb through the pictures, I notice how sad Aunt Rachel looks in every one. There's not one that shows her smiling. I wonder what was bothering her so. Then something catches my eye. As I get to the colored photos, I find one of Aunt Rachel and my mom standing in a garden. It looks awfully similar to the garden on the other side of the pond. In the background I see a girl with bare feet and bluish-flecks in her black hair.
Milly, it's her,
Amelia whispers.
It's the girl we've been seeing.
Amelia controls my hand and grabs it from the stack.

I examine it a little closer, but the girl's face is turned away from the camera.

I put the picture aside. Jinks continues to slither through my arms as I sit there cross-legged. I dig deeper.

Chapter Thirteen

Today is my eighteenth birthday. But it's just another normal day since not a soul remembered. I wasn't upset that Aunt Rachel forgot. But it did hurt that my grandfather didn't say anything.

I try to wipe that from my mind and concentrate on school work. Though Amelia won't let me with all the chattering she's doing in my mind. She still can't get over the journal thing and how I lost it. I looked in my locker when I first got to school, but nothing. It's just disappeared.

As I head to seventh period, the last class of the day, I run into Matt. Amelia's drooling at him as she watches him through my eyes, but I try to look away. But once I get inside the classroom, he stops me.

“So Milly, you coming to my party tonight?” He looks at me like he's ready to laugh. I am totally caught off guard, since this is the first time we ever talked to each other directly. Why does he even care if I go?

“Yeah, I guess, why do you ask?” I blurt out, not even thinking before I speak. I realize Amelia's in control of the conversation so I take a backseat. She is being coy and pretending, or at least trying, to flirt in some way to grab his attention. Right now, she seems to have it.

“Well, I just thought I'd ask since I haven't really talked to you about it. There are a few other people, too, I need to ask.” He's standing close to me in the doorway and the other students are squeezing passed us. Why we're standing right in the entryway is beyond me.

But it doesn't matter where we stand; I can feel Amelia bubbling inside me, ready to pop out with something brainless: “You mean the whole world doesn't know already? Ha! Come on Matt, please. Everyone knows about it, and yes, I'm going—with Beth. I'm excited. Glad I could come.”

I am seething at this point. How can Amelia babble out such stupidity? Why isn't she wondering why he wants her to go? I mean, come on, why all of a sudden? If you ask me, I think it's a scam to make fun of the loser girl—a prank for the party.

The fakeness continues as he says, “Great, then I'll see you there?”

“Oh, definitely.” Oh, please…what a joke.

We take our seats as I mindlessly listen to Amelia.
See, Milly? He does like me. He's interested, don't blow it. You know how important this is to me.

I try to blow off Amelia's rambling, but deep down inside I can't believe this is actually happening. Why would a guy like Matt, who's on the hockey team and is super popular, care whether or not poor old Milly is going? Give me a break; Amelia couldn't have made this happen. God, I remember all the months of suffering from her delusional lies. Like I slept with this one and that one and whoever else, for that matter. Oh wait, now I get it. He thinks I'm a sure thing or something. I bet the only reason he wants me to go is to get in my pants. Great. This is going to be fun.

***

As I get ready for the party, I look outside and around the premises just about every five minutes. I want to see if Blake's working today, but I guess not.

While glancing through the window, I notice the gate to the walled garden is open and something's ruffling in the bushes just beyond it.

I have this sudden urge to go out and see why the gate is open. Maybe Blake is there.

I walk passed Grandpa George's bedroom. The door's open halfway. He's napping, so I walk as softly as I can, to not disturb him. I creep downstairs and around back, then walk briskly across the yard.

I look around, and through the open gate I see someone sitting near the fountain in the garden. Is it the mysterious girl? I creep in closer. No, this is someone older, dressed all in white. Long chestnut hair flutters in the sunlit breeze. She's got her head bowed to the ground, sniffling and mumbling to herself. Suddenly she looks up—not at me but at the sky.

It's Aunt Rachel. I barely recognize her with her hair down like that and her sheer dress clinging to her slender body. I hadn't realized how beautiful she really is. Why is she dressed like this? Is she waiting for someone? A lover, perhaps?

I keep hidden behind a large oak tree so she doesn't see me.

She's mumbling something. “I miss you!” she sobs. Taking in deep sniffling breaths, she tries to calm herself by skimming the shallow fountain, rhythmically circling her fingers in the water over and over and over again. I'm shocked to see this. This is a completely different and vulnerable side of her; it's mesmerizing. I can't think of anything that's significant today except that it's my birthday. Why would she be here like this today of all days?

“I'm so sorry!” she wails.

I'm spellbound. I don't know whether to keep watching or go to her. I want to hold her, embrace her as she cries. Perhaps even cry together. I feel so connected with her right now. I shift my feet, accidentally stepping onto a couple of branches.

Aunt Rachel looks up, scanning the garden perimeter. I'm afraid she might see me. I figure it's time to go back to the house. Amelia reminds me of the Matt party again. I need to finish getting ready for the party.

I creep away unnoticed and jog across the yard and into the house. I turn around, glancing at the gate to the garden, and wonder who Aunt Rachel was talking about.

***

I finish applying makeup and check myself in the mirror. Amelia, on the other side, looks satisfied to the point that she says nothing, but gives a half a smile. I'm glad she's quiet and ready, because I am only doing this for her.

Jinks paws at the desk in my room and acts like he wants to get inside one of the drawers, so I go over to open it for him. To my surprise, I find my journal.

“Wow, Jinks! You found it.” I pick it up and thumb through it. Everything looks intact. No ripped-up pages, nothing missing or out of place. It isn't until I get to the last few pages that I see something pink sticking out. When I open it to the page, out falls a pink magnolia petal. But who put it there? And how did it get back in my desk drawer?

Then for some odd reason I think of Aunt Rachel and her diary and how I took it from the library. I run to the bed and lift up the mattress, where I hid it last, and see it's still there waiting to be read again. Maybe Aunt Rachel found my journal? Maybe she cleaned my room to try to look for her diary. Who knows?
Milly, you're losing it again. Just get ready for the party and we'll worry about this later.

I can tell Amelia's anxious to go and doesn't care much about what's happening. She makes my heart flutter in my chest. “All right, all right. We'll just have to figure this out later,” I say out loud to her.

I hear Beth pull up in the front and wave to her from the upstairs window, pointing one finger to hold on. I then grab my coat, look in the mirror above my dresser one last time—seeing Amelia's excitement—and head downstairs.
I will never forgive you if you ruin this for me, Milly. Just forget about all this crap and concentrate on having a good time.

As I walk outside and up to Beth's car, I wonder for a moment—maybe Amelia's right. Maybe I should just try to relax and forget about all this weird stuff that's been happening.

“Hey, you look so good, Mill. Come on, hop in,” Beth says as I slide myself in the passenger side and close the door.

“You do too, Beth,” I say to her as she turns around the loopy corner and drives down the graveled path to the security gate.

I wonder why the gates are open and ask her, “So who buzzed you in?”

“Oh, some gardener kid had the gates open. He asked me who I was so I said I was a friend of yours and he let me in right away. Hey, he's kinda cute in a mysterious kinda way.”

“His name is Blake.”

“Oh, so you
know
him, Mill? Why didn't you say anything?”

“Oh, cause he's really not worth mentioning.” I feel a blushing in my cheeks and turn my head to the window and away from her. “Yeah, he's just the groundskeeper.” But inside I want to scream out some Oh-my-God-isn't-he-so-hot? kind of thing, but I don't.

“Oh, whatever, then. So are you ready for this party? I heard Matt asked you about it earlier today. God, Mill, you'd think something like that would be heard directly through my best friend and not Jenny Stevens.”

“Umm well, it was right before my last class and I didn't see you after school so I figured I would tell you later. Sorry you hada hear it through Jenny Blabber Mouth. God, does she ever stop talking about everyone else but herself? I mean, all she is is rumorville.”

“Yeah, well, what do you expect when you don't have a life?”

Beth and I continue to chat about who's gonna be there and what's supposedly going to happen. She asks me if she can have a few drinks and wants me to drive her parents' car back to my house if she does. She mentions about a sleepover. In my mind I'm thinking, why does she have to feel like she's gotta drink? She knows I'm not going to. But she also knows I don't like to drive, even though I got my license last year.
Milly, what did I tell you? Don't screw this up, if she wants to drink and sleep over at your place, just let her.

Amelia pumps me up about having this all covered, the driving and everything else, and since I'm too tired to argue with her, I decide with a nod of agreement.

“I guess,” I mumble back to Beth. “But you better be ready when I wanna go home, okay?”

“Got it.”

Even though I agree, I have a feeling something is going to go wrong. What if this isn't really a good idea? Luckily, I have my cell phone again, so I can call if I needed a ride.

As if on cue, my phone starts buzzing. Startled, I wait to see what number pops up. It's the same number that's been calling from before.

Yet I am too nervous to take the call and instead bypass it. After a few seconds, I see the little voice mail symbol pops up. Whoever it is, they left a message.