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“WAS in love with me,” I point out, “What if he doesn’t forgive me? I am the reason for all that has happened to him with Jessie, in the first place. He didn’t want me selling love potions, but I just had to do it. For what? I am such an idiot.”
“Lorelei,” Madison says sternly attempting to be the voice of reason in my selfish wallowing, “Isaiah will forgive you. It might take him a minute or two, but he will. The real question is, will you forgive yourself?”
I close my eyes for a moment, the sound of wine sloshing into the oversized glasses is the only thing breaking the silence.
“I don’t think I deserve to be forgiven.
He’s married, Madison, he’s having sex with that girl and that’s something he’s not doing with his own free will. It’s not just him I am thinking about either. I’ve been selling love potions for years. For what? To make money? How could I have been so selfish?”
Madison purses her lips and takes a big swig of her glass of wine, nudging my glass closer to me with her other hand. I pick up the glass and chug it down in several consecutive gulps. “Happy?”
“Almost,” she pours me another glass and I laugh despite my bitterness. Heat spreads through my cheeks as the alcohol floods through me. “Drink up girl, you need to relax a little bit. You’ve been tightly wound for too long. The pack is on it. Isaiah is going to be knocked out cold when they get him here, no reason you can’t be either.”
My mouth hangs open and then I laugh, “Madison!”
“Okay, okay, okay, you don’t need to get wasted. You don’t even need to drink another drop if you don’t want to, but you do need to relax.”
A loud clangingsound stirs me from my slumber on the couch where I passed out a few hours earlier after multiple mini-dance parties with Madison and a few too many glasses of wine. My head pounds, “Ouch.”
My hand flies to my tender forehead as I lift my head from the couch, the room spins, and I let my head drop back down into the pillow. Closing my eyes, I listen to the clattering once again and drift back off into a deep slumber.
Suddenly, I’m navigating through a surreal landscape, reality twists and contorts like a series of acid-laced hallucinations. The air is thick with an otherworldly haze.
Unease fills my bones as an intangible weight presses on my shoulders making me feel heavy and sluggish. With each step I take, the surroundings morph around me until I find myself in a dimly lit hallway. The walls are lined with framed portraits, images I can’t quite make out through the haze. I know it’s not real, but I can’t stop the nightmare.
Echoes of the distant past whisper in the air as a set of footsteps, nearing, fill the space around me. My heartbeat quickens as a man appears before me, a man with red hair as bright as mine. He wears my face, except its older and more masculine. I want to yell out “WHO ARE YOU?”
The words stick in my throat no matter how much I try to scream, I cannot make a peep of a sound.
A cold shiver runs down my spine as the figure speaks in a voice that seems to reverberate through the hallway. “Lorelei, it’s been too long my darling daughter.”
Frozen in place, unable to escape the haunting words. “Soon, we will meet,” he whispers, his words hanging in the air.
Eventually, I can break free from my paralysis and run at a gruelingly slow pace trying to get away from the man who claims to be my father. But no matter how many steps I take, the man remains by my side.
Desperation claws at my chest as I try to get away from this man, his smile widens with every increased beat of my heart. Until his smile is sickly large, larger than life, as though it is coming off the edges of his face. My senses are on overload. I know my psyche is being challenged.
“Our meeting is inevitable, Lorelei. Embrace the truth that lies within.” His words linger, a haunting promise.
With a gasp I wake up, drenched in sweat on the dampened couch cushion, heart pounding in my chest at a nauseating rate.What the hell was that? An unbelievable nightmare or a message of some sort?
Chapter 13
Isaiah
My limbs are pulled in all directions, drawn and quartered. An aching fills my tendons, and my blood boils in my veins.
“Isaiah,” a voice whispers in a sinister melody like a haunting lullaby. Reverberating from the unknown boundaries of this empty foggy hellscape I find myself in.
“What do you want from me?” I scream into the void. My voice comes echoing back, mocking me.
The air charges with an unsettling electric energy, as though at any moment I will be struck by lightning.
“Isaiah,” the singsong voice returns followed by a chorus of malevolent laughter.
Nightmarish visions play out before me – distorted memories, whispers of doubt, paranoia, and unresolved anxieties. A red-headed woman who feels familiar to me, lays in bed sobbing. Her broken voice whispers apologies to my name.
Who are you?
