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Chapter 1
Messengers
~Sandra~
I feel a twinge of guilt as I kiss little Ethan goodbye. “Have a nice day, munchkin, listen to your dad.”
He embraces me, meshing his body tightly around me as I hold his small form, and then raises his arms for Daddy to pick him up. My heart sinks in my chest at Nate’s disheartened expression. “I’m not going, love. Have fun with your dad, all right?” I wink at him, trying to lighten up his mood, then kiss his cheek and squeeze his shoulders.
He nods his head, smiling sadly, then hops down the steps to the car without a single word. Sam straps Ethan in and gives me a kiss, but Nate ignores me, sulking in the back seat. I watch them as they drive away, and wave before heading back into the house.
Late in the evening, the bell buzzes, demanding my immediate attention, and I get a terrible feeling; a sense of foreboding churns in my guts. The ringing bell is a warning. Growing dread stirs my heart into skipping a beat and my stomach coils into a tight fist, but I refuse to acknowledge any of it. At least this way, I can pretend and hope.
Unwillingly, I walk towards the door, trying to shake the fear rapidly encasing my senses. My heart squeezes in warning, as if attempting to prevent unlocking the gates to the agony.
Before I reach the door, I stop for a minute to compose myself, as the bell sounds a second time. My legs start to shake and my anxious heart races in my throat. The air, saturated with sharp dread, presses on my shoulders. Warning tingles in my limbs, making them feel heavy. An erratic pulse thrums loudly in my ears, and I start to sway on my wobbly feet. Black spots begin to appear before my eyes.
Then I open the door. I know I shouldn’t, but somehow, I do. With a numb smile plastered on my face, I welcome the dark messengers.
I can’t hear their voices, the mind that floats with cold detachment refusing to understand. Cocooned from the truth, I am shrouded in the welcoming silence. Nothing can touch or break me. It makes me feel content to stay in here, and I don’t fight it.
“Sandra, can you hear me? Where have you been? Are you ok?”
From afar, I can hear them calling me, but I am unable to form any sort of reply. As they stand before me, trembling, they grip my hands, demanding for me to hear them out. My paper white-colored face is frozen in limbo, incapable of grasping what is happening. I watch people rushing towards my home, shouting, crying.
The message was grave.
Soul-shattering. Unraveling. Unmaking.
My eyes fill and overflow, pouring hot substance down my cheeks. Rivulets of the hot tears meet at my chin.
Burning. Freezing. Undoing.
The vision of my little boy, like a message from the other world, comes to me.
“Let’s go, Mummy…” The phantom voice of my child distracts me from the reality happening in front of my eyes. A small hand envelops mine. I look down, and Ethan is smiling at me, a peaceful reflection in his eyes.
“It is ok, Mummy. He won’t cry for long. I am waiting for him, you know? You should go home and rest.” Astounded by his calm and heartwarming smile, I know that he is right.
The vision fades and the overwhelming need to block the rushing world crashes into me. Willingly, I surrender to the nurturing darkness, afraid to accept the truth. This way, I can still pretend my family will come back home, that this is just a nightmare.
“They died in the car accident…” the policeman’s sympathetic voice tells me. I feel like screaming on the inside, thrashing, my soul bleeding, as I refuse to accept the reality. It doesn’t seem real to me.
But when it finally did, my family was horrified by the darkness, and my inability to cope with grief.
“We think you need professional help, Sandra. The hospital might give you a break from grief…” That was what my mother’s determined voice said before my family broke my trust.
I should never have let them see it—my pain and my shattered soul. I had no time to hide. They subdued me and took away my freedom, locking me away in the mental hospital.
The fear remade me, agony imprisoned me. After that, I hid my pain from everyone. Darkness became my shelter. She became me.
But then I hear them. My children, calling me back. I will reunite us, Cassandra better let me.
“Nate! Ethan! Where are you?” I hear their giggles, and then screams mixing in unison. Their fear is shattering my heart. I can’t reach them, she is fighting me. I will have to force the memories into her heart.
“Mummy please, I am scared!”
Nate’s screams echo, calling me to save them, and I whimper. I abandoned them, but no more. We are coming back to reclaim our rightful place—the heart, where we should be.
Soon I’ll be free, and we will reunite. The terror, shame, and guilt will remake or break us. Everyone will see who we are. I belong to her, she belongs to me. We both are the same. I refuse to stay in the darkness. I will claim back my life, even if it kills us both in the process. I have nothing to lose, but she does.
You can taste my rage, Cassandra.
I can feel your fear. It’s choking you. You can be free, just give in.
Never! Enough!
Chapter 2
Agony
~Sandra/Cassandra~
After the hospital, 2 years ago
My little one, who is just over two years old, darts into the room, jumping on the bed with excited giggles.
“Mummy, Mummy, go to the park! Let’s go, Mummy!” he excitedly demands while shaking my shoulders, and then turning my face with his still chubby hands.
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“Go, ask your daddy to go. Let Mummy be lazy today,” I instruct Ethan, kissing his cheery cheeks. Blowing a raspberry on his exposed neck, he screeches and then laughs with cheeky delight.
All of a sudden, my breathing becomes hasty with palpable fear. It slips through my fingers like sand. NO! I begin to panic and hyperventilate. Their faces blur, slowly fading from my memories. I can’t hold on to their features any longer. I try to hold on to every heartbeat necessary for my survival. If I fail, she’ll win. Holding my breath, I’m desperate to stop my heart racing away from my beloved babies. Sobs pour out of my frame, as gasping wails shred my throat and tear me apart.
“Mummy, look at me, I am so high! I am flying in the sky!” my little one screams from the top of the slide.
I feel the sunlight kissing my face as I listen to their content chatter and ecstatic laughs. I watch the trees sway in rhythm created by the autumn wind.
“Are you ok, Mum?” A concerned Nate gives me a kiss and runs to join his brother before I can answer.
My heart aches, trying to catch the memory. Like the worst nightmare, it has no real substance to grab on to. Desperate whimpers fall on deaf ears, as they float away and out of my reach. I start shaking, feeling disorientated. Rapid, irregular heartbeats, like the drums of a rock band, begin to beat in a sickening rhythm. My mouth goes dry; I am desperate for air. Pain takes hold of my heart, with punishing fingers like claws opening me wide, letting the agony rip me apart.
Nate’s features resurface. An adorable, skinny, dark-haired boy, his dark blue eyes point a little bit downwards, giving him a sad expression, and I am tempted to kiss it away. Pouty lips and a pessimistic personality were tough to bend. The original, slightly shy character had very on point humor and incredible heart. My firstborn, who screamed his way into this world, has remade me.
