Chapter 2: 20 Questions

Chapter 2: 20 Questions

A Chapter by Courtney

 

                                 Chapter 2: 20 Questions

          

            They were all silent for a moment, Mary looking as she had just won the lottery, Max and Emily just staring at Lithe in astonishment. She opened her eyes, studying each face before lowering her head to chip.

“Who is she?” Mary asked, sounding similar to a reporter trying to get the latest scoop on gossip, to Lithe. “This woman among the tree’s?” Lithe felt Emily press a supporting hand to her shoulder; she shrugged it off seemingly repulsed.

“I’d like to go home now. That is if you don’t want me to throw a bucket of water on you, and watch in joy as your skin melts.” Lithe’s voice was dull even though what she said was meant as a pun.

“Just, please answer the question.”  The therapist begged, this time sounding childlike. “She can be as sarcastic as Dan Cook sometimes.” Emily mumbled to no one in particular. Lithe bit the inside of her lip to avoid grinning. Though she preferred to be compared to Larry the Cable guy.

“Lithe,” Max sighed and bit down on his lips, like Emily before she busted with rage. “You have to talk to us, who is the woman among the trees?” 

Lithe saw her, even though her face was buried deep in the depts., of all the memories she’d spent half of her life suppressing. The gleam of the woman’s eyes in the fire, the screams of the children�".

 “She’s no one you want to know about, so just don’t do that thing . . . what is it that old people say.” Lithe hauled herself to her feet, still refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. “Oh�"don’t make a mountain out of a mole hill.” Mary collapsed into her chair, raking her hands through her black hair, heavily highlighted in gray. “I,” she spoke, sounding exasperated. “Would hardly call screaming in the night, a mole hill.”

Emily slapped her hand to her forehead. “Well, thanks for your endeavors and strives to help our daughter, and all that trash.”  She waved her other hand around carelessly. “But I think we’ll be seeking more extreme measures next time.” Lithe’s already tense body grew stiffer, frozen in a bending position to collect her messenger bag. It didn’t take a reincarnation of Albert Einstein to know what she meant. Max reached over the oak desk, shaking hands with Mary. She appeared a bit frazzled, somewhere on the boarder of relief and anger. “I would say it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, but truthfully it hasn’t.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Lithe mumbled as she swung the strap over her shoulder.

 

 

 The room was dimly lit, with only the light of a red lava lamp. The blackness of night pouring in through the open window that sent a chilling breeze into the room. She lay with her stormy eyes open, lost in thought. It was there, as if it were branded into her mind. The laughter that only compare to a scream and the hackle of a hyena. She hated it, hated what she was doing to them because of it.  Lithe closed her eyes briefly; she saw the look on Emily’s face when she spoke of the woman among the trees, as if it were painted on the back of her lids. Which she truthfully feared it was. But even then, there was more they didn’t know, not even Max who thought not so long ago he knew practically everything about the girl he’d taken in. But the more you think you know, the less you really do, she thought, before her eyes slipped closed.

The girl’s feet patted against the earth sinking in and out of the mud as she raced toward the house in the distance, her golden hair whipping behind her. The girl heard however unfortunately the ear splitting screams not but a few meters behind her. And the laughter, as dreadful as it was and as loud as it was too mixed with the screams. It was hideous. Almost as hideous as the blackness that shut her out suddenly.

Lithe’s eyes flew open, sitting up mechanically. She didn’t scream this time, she didn’t cry, she only frowned. She knew with dread that the screams would be in her head for the rest of the day. “Bloody hell.” She whispered and flung herself back, pulling the pony tail holder from her hair. Sending golden locks raining down on her shoulders.



© 2013 Courtney


Author's Note

Courtney
Second chapter.

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Added on February 3, 2013
Last Updated on February 3, 2013
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Author

Courtney
Courtney

Seymour, IN



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'Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants, the way it stops and starts.' -Edger Allen Poe more..

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A Chapter by Courtney