Author's Note: I predict that Stacey will face troubles with the mysterious figures that haunt her in her dreams. I used a quote from the book to show why I predicted this.
Trembling I face the truth, my end was near. I couldn't hold it off any longer. No more tears. No more nightmares. No more fighting. My time was now, I had to finally give
in.
“Stacy! Come out, come out wherever you are,” chuckles a raspy voice. My knees buckle as I struggle to find my
feet. The splintering rope burrows its way
deeper into the crevices of my ankles.
Quivering I force myself through the growing pain, I wasn’t about to
give up after all I’d fought for. Heart
pounding, head throbbing, ankles blistering, my icy fingers flutter across the
rigid brick wall. Ancient cobwebs
twinkle across the cellar ceiling, reflecting off the moon, glimmering amongst
the stars, painted across the night sky.
My last memory. Before midnight. Before dawn.
Before death.
“Ashes,
ashes they all…fall…down,” lulls a voice, sweet as honey. Barely able to keep my eyes open I
distinguish shadows lurking, plotting my death. Out of the darkness a silhouette of a young
girl appears. The girl closes in on me,
cornering me, pinning me against the brick wall, my life flashing before my
eyes. Everything becomes as silent as
the grave, until I hear her moist breath on the back of my neck.
“What
do you want from me?” I plead, my face as white as a ghost. Her fingers twine their way through my sweating hair. My eyes are squeezed tight
together, unwilling to accept death.
“Open
your eyes, Stacy Brown!” the innocent voice suddenly croaks. My eyes snap open, revealing a deathly
face. Her white, lace nightgown is
tearing at the seams. Black as night her
charcoal eyes bleed into mine. Tangled
like seaweed her blonde hair hides most of her unforgiving face. A faint smile creeps across her face.
“Stay away from me!” I screech,
feeling a tornado swirling in my stomach.
“I’ve finally found you, and now
you’re mine. Join me, or face your
grave,” a scowl grows across her colorless expression. I don’t know how to respond. She has me in her command, under the
trap.
“You can’t control me,” I yelp,
holding back tears.
“Try me,” her eyebrows raise. Her fragile arms flail into the foggy cellar
air. As she begins to chant her voice
becomes as husky as a crows’. Those
black, beady eyes begin to illuminate. Brittle
and weak her body hovers above me. A familiar
chant echoes, bringing tears to my eyes.
My vision becomes blurred as tears race down my rosy cheeks. Memories flood my mind, as more voices sing
in harmony to the dreadful lullaby.
“Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black. She has a knife, knife, knife stuck in her
back, back, back. He cannot breath,
breath, breath. She cannot cry, cry,
cry. That’s why she begs, begs,
begs. She begs to die, die, die,” A
choir of gruff, appalling voices murmur the horrid lullaby. The song forces me to remember my past. Forces me to face the truth. Forces me to realize I had gotten myself into
this. I glance up into the girl’s eyes,
the radiance blazes into soul. Lifting
my forehead towards the ceiling I sense the evil vibrations veering through the
murky air. Trapping my inner thoughts
and emotions. Showcasing my true
identity. Making my entire body quake
with terror. A sheer coat of sweat
moistens my forehead, as I zone off into a daze. Realizing I was now part of her army of death
ridden souls.
