Celeste by V.C. Andrews

Author:V.C. Andrews
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Horror
Published: 2011-06-12T17:54:38+00:00

I began to hope I never would be. Mommy was well into this other world and crossed back and forth at will, it seemed, but look at how isolated she was. I thought. She no longer had any men friends and never socialized with anyone. She refused to contact or return phone calls or letters from any living relative. Would this be my destiny?

Once. when I was very young. I desperately needed to make contact, to cross over, and when I believed I had. I thought I had won Mommy's deepest love forever and ever, but she still hovered over Noble, spreading her wings to protect and cuddle him. To be him was to be loved.

Many nights when I was by myself. I would stare out the window like she often did and wait for some sign. Sometimes I would gaze so long and hard. I eventually did think shadows took shape again. I did believe I saw faces, but they were all like bubbles floating by, bubbles that would burst as soon as they were seen. I also began to hear whispering again. On the shallow waves of the evening tide voices drifted. My brain became garbled with all these images and visions. I didn't know what to believe.

I told her about it, and she said it was normal. I was close. I was always close. Just be good. Just listen and do my work, and it would come. This loneliness would end. and I would be part of this wonderful community that had chosen us and our farm. I would inherit all of Mommy's powers and abilities. This was my real legacy, and how could I doubt it? After all, she had been told.

But this promise didn't stop me from feeling more and more boxed in.

When I read Macbeth, I was stunned by the witches' prediction that Macbeth would be destroyed when the woods came to his castle. Lately, feeling my world shrinking. I thought our woods was coming closer and closer. Perhaps it was just an illusion, but for me it was real. The entire outside world was pressing our boundaries, squeezing. pushing. Eventually, we would be swallowed up and gone. I thought about it often, but this was an idea I never expressed.

Although Mommy saw me reading more and more, saw me curled up under a light with a book well into the wee hours, she didn't say anything.

Sometimes she smiled, and sometimes she looked thoughtful. She seemed unsure. Should she stop me? Should she encourage me? I was sure she thought that at least when I was reading, I wasn't questioning and complaining. Her world was quiet and comfortable, as it should be. We were safe.

The library we had was old. It had what I imagined were very valuable editions of famous novels and books. Great- Grandmother Jordan had begun to collect volumes, and Grandmother Jordan continued to do so. I suspected neither of them really had read what they had brought into the house. I was confident they wouldn't have approved of some of these stories.

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