Awakening by Wendy Williams

At first, it was just a blur of amber and yellow amid a sea of black. It started to become clear to Jaime that these were the colors of autumn. These were the colors of leaves and branches zipping past her and jumping out at her. Suddenly, there came a grueling crack to her back and stinging slashes to her face and arms. She realized that she was falling, fast and hard. Jaime tried desperately to close her eyes and brace for impact, but her mind and her body were not cooperating with each other. Jamie just watched as the punishing ground ascended quickly toward her face.

Jaime lay there for an eternity. She could taste the dirt and blood in her mouth. In the distance, she heard a faint whirring, which grew louder until she realized that it was a siren. She closed her eyes and thought, "What the hell is happening to me?"

Then she drifted off.

***

"Her left ankle is fractured. Her back is extremely bruised, but there doesn't appear to be any injury to her spine - which is good. However, she does have a concussion and she had a mild seizure in the ambulance. We don't know if injury to Jaime's head caused this or if it is something else. Is there a history of epilepsy in the family, Ms. Keenan?"

She struggled to open her eyes. Everything was fuzzy. She could see an outline of two figures.

"No, Doctor Gray. Jaime has a sleep disorder, but she's never had a seizure before now," said Opal Keenan, Jaime's mother.

"Well Ms. Keenan, we're going to run some more tests to see if we can find out what caused the seizure. Everything else looks okay. She'll need a lot of rest and that's all I can say for now. I'll keep you posted."

She turned to Jaime and touched her bandaged forehead and began to cry.

"Mother," Jaime murmured, blindly trying to reach out for her.

Her mother turned to her. "Sleep child," she said, "You need your rest."

"What happened? How did I get here?" Jaime pleaded. She tried to remember what had happened before she began to fall, but nothing was coming to her. How did she get to the top of that tree?

Jaime could remember many times when she would wake up at the crack of dawn standing at the foot of that tree. She'd always been a sleepwalker, but she never had an accident before. She certainly never tried to climb a tree! It was all too confusing for her at this point, and she was tired. Jaime fell back to sleep as her mother gazed out the window. She thought she heard her mother say something as she was drifting off, but she wasn't sure what it was.

***

"What have I done?" Opal whimpered . She looked over at her daughter one last time before leaving the room and ran out of the hospital as quickly as she could. She was almost sprinting as she reached the parking lot. Thrusting her fists into the pockets of her sweater, she poked around clumsily for the keys to her Explorer.

"In a hurry?" came a voice suddenly from right in front of her.

Startled, she dropped her keys. She watched as they fell to the oily gray concrete below. Opal fixed her eyes on the glossy black wingtips that stood no more than a foot away from her own shoes. Slowly, she began to gaze upward to the legs taking in the sharp folds in the noir pants legs and the blood-red pinstripe that covered the entire suit. The long double-breasted jacket would make any other man look like a gothic pimp. It did something entirely different for this man. Something was very eerie about Michael. He was of average height, five-nine maybe; very thin, and very pale. Michael had exquisite bone structure, high cheekbones and a very prominent jaw line. His eyes were a royal blue that was so ominous that you couldn't look directly into them. His lips were full, like that of an infant. His mouth had a peculiar, but attractive roundness to it. Michael's wavy black hair fell flawlessly down the side of his face and touched the bottom of his collar. He looked particularly spooky now, and the phantasmal pale in Opal's face wasn't the most ghastly part. Michael was supposed to be dead.

***

A few hours earlier ...

"I've never seen anything quite like this, Chief," shrugged Detective Mark Hamilton, crouching over the mangled body of twenty-nine-year-old Michael Doss. “We found the home-owner face down on the ground under that oak tree out front. It appears that she was beaten up badly. We don't know for sure, but it looks as if she fell from the tree. She was unconscious when we arrived, so we didn't get anything out of her. I don't know the extent of her injuries, Chief, but we've got Jimmy going to General, so if she wakes up and remembers anything..."

"Opal Keenan is the home-owner's mother. We haven't been able to get hold of her. We're not sure about this guy's family. We're looking into it."

The Chief looked down at Michael's body again, grimacing. "Is that how he was when you got here?"

"Yes, Sir. He appears to have broken every substantial bone in his body."

***

"Mrs. Keenan, you have a call from Mortelville General. They say it's urgent. There's been some sort of accident." Opal nodded, and shooed her young assistant out of the office as she reached for the phone.
"Oh, my God," she said. "I'll be there when I can. The drive you see . . . all right then, thank you."

Opal grabbed her purse and keys, which she shoved into the pocket of her oversized sweater. She reached up and pulled a chain from around her neck. On the chain was a small key which she used to unlock her desk drawer, from which she pulled out a flat mahogany box. Carefully, she placed the box on the desk. On top of the box was a raised pewter emblem in the shape of a triangle. Opal pressed down on the triangle and the box opened. Inside the box was lined in a fine fur that resembled human hair or horse hair. Opal reached inside and pulled out an amulet, also shaped like a triangle. The triangle was a slick black with various engravings on it. The engravings shined a very rich copper color. It almost appeared to be bleeding. Opal held the talisman close to her chest and closed her eyes. Then quickly, as if coming out of a trance, she shoved it into the box, closed it, and locked it back in the drawer. As she drove down the long farm road that led from the city into the rural town of Mortelville, Opal began thinking about Jaime.

***

Jaime was an only child, and Opal was a single mother. As a young girl, Jaime always felt like a part of her was missing. When she was in preschool, the nurses noticed that she'd play all by her self, but it was as if she was talking to someone else. At first it seemed perfectly normal, but Jaime began to distance herself from other children completely. Soon she would just sit alone in the corner and talk to herself. When she was six, the nuns at her Catholic grade school told Opal that Jaime seemed to be struggling spiritually. At first Opal was angered by this, but after counseling, and trying everything else, she turned to her priest for guidance.

"Jaime seems very troubled," Father Lucian said. "She's throwing fits, and she's becoming violent."

"She's six years old for heaven's sake! She's just hyper!" Opal defended.

"Yesterday Sister Maria was trying to teach the children about the disciples and Jaime had an outburst.

She started yelling ‘Liar, liar' repeatedly and had to be removed from the class!"

"What are you implying, Father?"

"That the child was conceived in sin, Ms. Keenan, and is wicked!"

"Wicked . . . how dare you?" She said and then stormed off.

Opal rushed down the hall to the classroom where Jaime was waiting.

"We're leaving," she said.

That night, Jaime started having the nightmares. She would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming that someone was trying to steal her soul. The sleepwalking came shortly after that. Opal would wake with Jaime standing over her. Eyes wide open, but sound asleep. The blank stare on Jaime's face would frighten Opal so much that she confided again to her priest.

"The Devil has a grip on her soul," he said. "I pray that God can save her from herself."

"What am I supposed to do, Father? Are you saying that Jaime is possessed?"

"Not exactly,” he said. "You need an intervention before it's too late."

Opal was confused. "Like an exorcism?"

"It doesn't work like that, Ms. Keenan ," he said, frustrated. "You need to pray."

Opal was not satisfied by what Father Lucian suggested. She certainly didn't think that her little girl was demon possessed, but after waking up another night with Jaime standing over her, she began to panic.

Opal began to do her own research. She went to the church archives and to the local library and started reading occult books, and books on mysticism, witchcraft, anything she could get her hands on that mentioned demon possession. While she was researching one day, she came across a list of titles by an author of books specifically relating to childhood demon possession. When she tried to find the books at the library, they weren't available. Opal asked the librarian if she knew where she could possibly go to find these particular books, and the woman told her of a New Age bookstore in town that might have them. Opal thanked her and went there immediately.

When she arrived, she went to the front counter and asked the attendant if any of the titles were available. The attendant was more than happy to help with the selections, and had another bit of good news. The Author, Luc Frie, owned a small specialty shop just outside of town. Opal accepted a map from the man, purchased one book and left the store.

Opal followed the directions to a small run down shack, almost in the middle of nowhere . The building was mostly made of rock, except the door, which was thick and unpainted gray wood. No sign was on the door, only a large black triangle in the middle. She walked up and knocked on the door. The door slowly crept open. Opal peeked inside. It seemed empty. Opal walked in. “Hello . . . ?” she echoed. “Is there anyone here?”

As she turned around, there stood a man in a noir suit with red pinstripes.

***

"I hope I didn't frighten you." He said, offering his hand to her, "I'm Luc Frie."

"Opal Keenan...and yes, you startled me a little," she said sheepishly.

Luc was very handsome. He stood very tall, over 6'3" at least. He was lean, but not skinny, and had a thick head of blond hair. He looked to be in his mid forties, very wise and very well maintained. He spoke with a slight accent. Something about him was arcane, but for some reason she felt like she could trust him.

Luc turned to her and looked deep into her eyes and said, "I know that your child is suffering. I can help the both of you. You must trust me."

Opal didn't know what to say. She had been so overwhelmed and the thought of somehow getting this weight lifted. She didn't care that he was a stranger, or that he couldn't have known what was really going on with Jaime.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she cried.

"Take this with you,” he said, handing her a flat mahogany box. “There is an amulet inside. Hold it in front of you and repeat the words: Ho messo la mia anima in vostre mani. An incantation will appear in the center of the amulet. This incantation will be very personal to you. When you use it, you must be sure that you are ready to submit anything to be rid of this pain. You must be ready to begin anew."

***

After meeting with Luc, Jaime's nightmares seemed to go away on their own. They moved to the town of Mortelville shortly after Jaime's tenth birthday. Opal had inherited a large two-story country home when her aunt died. It was old, but very beautiful. The house sat fifty feet from the edge of a cliff that dropped off into Lake Mortel . It was set in a lower part of the property, but you could see the lake from the house. At the highest point of the hill before the drop-off was a tall oak tree. Jaime loved that tree. She'd sit out there for hours looking down on the lake. Jaime's nightmares were gone, and it seemed for good, but Jaime began walking in her sleep again. She would wake up often out by her tree, not knowing how she got there. Opal took her to a sleep specialist in the city who diagnosed her with a sleep disorder and put her on medication. The medication would make her very sleepy, but it didn't always keep her from sleepwalking. Opal figured the little bit of sleepwalking she did would be harmless, and they lived lightheartedly for years, that is until two months ago.

***

Jaime met Michael at a party at a friend's house. Immediately they hit it off. Opal, however, didn't like Michael at all. Something about him just wasn't right. After Jaime and Michael started hanging out regularly, her mother and she grew apart. Any time Michael would call, Opal would get upset and they'd not speak for weeks. Jaime began to have her nightmares again. She began walking into her mother's room at night. She'd stand over Opal and look at her with a blank stare. The look had always bothered Opal. She would shake Jaime aggressively until Jaime woke screaming, not knowing why her mother was shaking her.

Two nights ago, Jaime walked out to her tree while she was asleep. Opal ran out to her. She was always anxious when Jaime would get so close to the cliff. Still, Jaime would always stop at the foot of the tree. When Opal got out to Jaime this time, Jaime turned to her mother with that blank gaze and said, "Michael is trying to steal my soul."

Opal couldn't absorb any more. She rushed into the house and up the stairs to the master bedroom and hurled open the closet door. Frantically, she searched through old shoe boxes until she found the right one. With the shoe box tucked under her arm, she rushed out of the house. Reaching into the pocket of her sweater for her keys, Opal placed the shoe box on the passenger seat. Discouraged, Opal drove through the night to her office in the city. She knew that Michael would be coming to stay the weekend with Jaime, but it didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now.

Opal entered the door to her office, and sat the shoe box down upon the desk. Her breathing was shallow, and she felt as if her chest were about to implode. Slowly she removed the lid. There it was, the mahogany box that Luc had given her so long ago. She removed the amulet from its fur pillow. She looked at it and said: 1 [1] Ho messo la mia anima in vostre mani. Moments later the amulet began to tremor. Opal watched the center as the words formed across the black triangle in rich copper: 2 [2] Una nuova vita distrugge il vecchio dolore. Opal repeated it.

She hadn't seen Jaime again until now. Michael was supposed to be spending a few nights at the house with Jaime, and Opal didn't want any part of it. She decided she'd stay with a friend who lived in the city near her office. When she got the call from the hospital, she didn't know what to expect. It was an hour drive to Mortelville General from the office. During that time, Opal thought hard about what Luc had said to her. She was afraid. When Opal arrived at the hospital, Officer Jimmy Nealon explained to her that Michael had been killed, and that Jaime had been injured.

She didn't understand how Jaime got up into the tree. It didn't make any sense to her. The police could not explain what happened to Michael either. They said his body had been traumatically crushed, but by what, they didn't know. Now standing face to face with Michael, she's voiceless . "Do you trust me?" He said.

***

"Doctor Gray, come quick!" The nurse yelled, "She's seizing again."

"Order an EEG and get her mother on the phone!" Doctor G ray said. "It looks like she's taken a turn for the worse."

Jaime blinked a few times as images started racing into her. It was Michael. He was standing in the living room by the fireplace holding something out to her. She couldn't make it out. It looked like a small black box. Michael was smiling. Then he wasn't. His expression was terror. His face was stone. He started to choke, fiercely gasping for air. He reached for his throat, but then he just collapsed to the floor. Jaime called out to him. His arm bolted up and then violently back behind his neck, which made a crunching sound that was horrifying. Jaime ran out the front door sobbing wildly. She ran to the oak tree next to the edge of the cliff. Looking back at the house she saw an encroaching mist. It was an elliptic fog that was descending upon her. She looked up at the familiar tree, and began to claw frantically at its trunk.

***

"What?" Opal murmured.

"Do you? Do you really trust me?" Michael mouthed.

"I don't understand?" She cried, " How can . . . how can you stand here?"

"I told you that I could help you," he said. There was something in his voice now that was a little lower. It was almost as if it wasn't his voice at all.

"The suffering that has been will be no more!" He said, with a slight Italian accent.

"Luc...?" Opal gasped. "How could this be? That was ages ago! Here you stand before me looking through a dead mans eyes! What about Michael? What the hell did you do to Michael?!"

"What did I do to Michael?" He mocked. "What did YOU do to Michael?"

"Me?" she cried, "I did what you told me to! I said what you told me to! You promised you would help me!"

"Michael was your son, how could you just leave your child to die?" he said.

Opal's face drained of color and her mouth dropped open. Her heart began to race. She fell back onto the side of the car and slowly slumped down to the hard ground below her.

***

Jaime couldn't see anything but the tree in front of her. The sky was pitch, and the moon was dull. Time no longer existed. Her heart was beating in her sweat drenched chest. Before she knew it she was at the last sturdy branch that she could reach.

The fog was still closing on her. At that instant it became clear that there was no escape. Jaime watched as it crept closer.

"Jaime..." it seemed to say. "Where are you, Jaime?"

"Michael...?" she whispered.

At that instant, Jaime was enveloped in the fog. It felt like a cool mist on her skin. It felt almost soothing. That feeling was only momentary. The fog began to feel heavy. It began to feel as if it were squeezing her. It began to sting and tear at her skin. It felt as if it were penetrating her.

Jaime began to tremble at the pain. She cried out to the dark sky. It was too much to bear. Her eyes rolled back. Her body gave up. She lost consciousness. She began to hear what seemed like the wailing of an infant. She saw the image of her mother, much younger, laying on the grass in pain. She was writhing. She was in a tulle nightgown. Blood was all around her. She watched as her mother delivered one tiny infant and then another in screaming agony. The first baby didn't look very good. It was a boy. He was very pale and he didn't move much. He just let out these horrific bubbling gasps of air. Opal cringed at the sound. The second baby was perfect, though. She was round and fat and pink. Her lungs were opened wide and she cried loudly.

Jaime watched as her young mother began digging forcefully at the ground with her hands. She dug maniacally until she was too exhausted to dig any more. She picked up the pale baby that gurgled on the wet grass beside her and placed him into the hole she had dug. She began to pile dirt on him until you could no longer here his muffled wet breaths. The second baby began to wail loudly. It shrieked and kicked wildly at the ground it was laying on. Young Opal picked her up and put her to her breast.

"Shh..." she said, placing her hand on the infants forehead. She leaned back against the old oak tree and began to rock the squirming little girl. "Sleep child," she said.