Her sunken dark eyes vanished beneath her mangy bangs, and her lace nightgown failed to conceal the terrible thinness of her limbs. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.
Run, damn it. Run. I couldn’t. She smiled, still. “It’s not so bad.”
For the next 20 minutes or so, Sema’s assessments flow in a stream-of-consciousness manner with very few pauses. There’s no stopping her as she expertly combs my cup in search of images—and, conceivably, hints about my past, present, and future.
Above the hay was a misty form which had the very clear shape of a woman “floating” above the hay stack. She had on a milk-maid type dress and her head was cocked to the side and her eyes were wide open. My first thought I remember very distinctly and it was “I am seeing something horrible that I shouldn’t be seeing.”
Tom first responded with a nervous laugh, then a hiccup, before he finally gave a soft answer.
“Something was after me. Something in that house was after me.”
“I thought realtors were supposed to discuss when there’s something wrong with the house.”
If we would’ve had proper cell phone service, I would’ve gotten the optometrist’s warning calls. I would’ve ripped the contacts from my eyes.
It took me several long moments to open eyes that I didn’t remember closing and turn them towards the direction of the voice. It was still dark in the room – much darker than should have been possible, given that it was still the middle of the afternoon – and very little was visible. And yet there, in the corner of the room, I saw a shadow, just a touch blacker than the rest of the darkness around it, reaching for my mother.
“I did not even hesitate; I jumped out my window, and the moment I was out I heard the door to my room slam open and heard what I can only describe as a whispered scream of rage.”
We are on a mission to make contact with the Lemp family from beyond the grave and see what we can do to help these lost souls who appear to be trapped between the walls of this house.