It wasn’t long, before my brother was born. And boy, was I and my grandmother eststic, he was the cutest ugliest thing I had ever seen. Now, ill be honest with you, I’ve always hated, loathed hospitals…they’ve always had a way with…giving me these strange feelings. Yeah yeah, what you always think, as scary story starting in a haunted hospital.
I feel the same way about churches…there’s always this feeling of uneasiness and possible anger, sometimes I get the sudden sadness, or a sudden anger that surprises me. My mother, never understood what was goin on with me. She had me tested for everything, from schizophrenia to bipolar disorder to multiple personality disorder. (MPD). But, they’ve always came back fine. My grandmother was the only one…whoever understood. That night, when my brother Sylas was born, and my mom was resting, we were in the cafeteria and I had the sudden urge, to cry. My eyes filled with tears, and I sobbed, she reached out, and touched me. I had looked at her, and she nodded.
“You said it would get worse?” and she just nodded.
A chill shot down my spine, and I looked right out the cafeteria door, a woman, shuffled down the hall a red band around her wrist. She looked pale, just like the little boy I had witnessed a year earlier. She stopped, looked back and fourth. At the time, I didn’t know the feeling of ‘depression’ or ‘anxiety.’ I didn’t unferstand, what I was feeling was this young woman’s emotions. She finally turned and saw my grandmother and I. She ran over, she had a trail of blood behind her. Dripping over her gown, the blood had came from the top of her head, and out of her ears and nose. When she spoke, the crimson fell from in between her teeth. They were stained red, and she reeked of alcohol.
She had long stringy brown hair, her eyes had once been bright brown, were stained red, and cataracted…her lips were cracked and broken…and her face was stained red.
“Help me. I can’t find my baby…do you know where they took him?” I looked at her, her voice dripped with desperation. What could I tell this young lady? Who, who was dead? When I looked her over once more, her stomach was bloated, and refused to move. She looked like my mother before she had my brother. At this point, I had grown costumed to seeing the dead, and watching my grandmother work. However, this particular spirit had my own grandmother distressed. When the young woman looked to me, the words spilled from my mouth.
“You’re baby made it fine ma’am. Where he is, I’m unsure. But, what have you done to yourself? Why?” I made mistake number two. My grandmother shot me a look, but the young woman’s tears seemed to have atopped.
“He hurt me so much…my father, so I ran away with my boyfriend…my father was a holy roller. He didn’t like the fact, I married so young, and pregnant. Before I was able to walk down the isle, we were in a car accident…I made it. He didn’t…i held him while he died. The ambulance came, I was able to look to the forest, the snow covered every thing…and I saw him…he looked so sad…I went home the next day…and I can’t remember. My head hurts, so much…” I watched her long nails grasp her head, pull at her hair. Yet as I reached out, her wailing stopped, she looked at me, not through me like she had done before. But AT ME. My heart stopped, and the sudden pain started from underneath my chin, shooting up and spreading from the top of my head. Her eyes lit up, her smile and broken teeth stunned me. She looked to my grandmother.
“You can pass on now, be with your boyfriend. You heard her. Your child is safe.” my grandmother spoke with little to no emotion and the woman, had just nodded.
My vision turned and doubled, i nearly faceplanted on the kitchen table. I felt sick, my head was throbbing, worse then any migraine I had ever had. My grandmother looked at me.
“I told you, these things, only get worse as you grow older. Me? Since you were born, the screaming, the crying, and the hollering had ceased; soon, you’ll feel, what I have felt the last fourty years.”
