Shadows of Ashland by Austin Robin

Author:Austin,Robin [Austin,Robin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Mystery Occult
Publisher: ravZen Press
Published: 2016-09-29T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

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I rush down the corridor, furious. Never should I have come back to Ashland. There’s nothing for me here but the reminder of my triumphant failure as a journalist. The only thing that’s changed is the type of mistakes I’m making.

The young woman at the desk still works on her fingernails, her eyes roll before she presses the buzzer to let me out of the building.

On the road, a slow moving truck pulls in front of me and I reach for the horn. Instead of blasting the driver, I pull over and scream so loud my throat hurts, then I take a pill for my throbbing head.

Years ago, I put on a brave face for my editor, for Jimmy Paine, my co-workers, and my father. But not for Rick. I came home after the trial and promptly fell apart. It wasn’t just blowing the assignment or being humiliated by Paine. It wasn’t even the shadows that followed me around Ashland. It was everything and I spared him no details. The four years in LA, my head injury, the loss of a childhood dream, the life that was supposed to be picture perfect for us but didn’t come close. Still, the worst was yet to come.

Rick didn’t know what to do for me or with me. Things hadn’t gone his way either and I’m certain the weekend I came back from Ashland, he saw they never would go our way. He wanted the doctors to fix me. The shadows I spoke of didn’t scare him, they made him angry.

I’m sure I once knew Rick. Back in high school and college. I tried so hard to remember who he really was, and who we once were together. He tried to make it work too– until I came back from Ashland.

Shortly after I returned, I noticed little things that only grew larger. Late nights at the office, weekends at work, business trips, the lilac and jasmine and oppressive musk that lingered on his skin. Still, he stayed and stays with me. He came back to Stratton because my father asked him to. I wonder if he stays for the same reason. I wonder if that’s my reason too.

I’m not okay sitting in my car in the dark on the side of the road in a small rural town all by myself. Rodham insists Matilda doesn’t have a grasp on reality; I fear I don’t either. He says she’s play acting a fictional life. Nature’s medicine for stress relief, he called it. There’s a Matilda inside of me, play acting a fictional and medicated life.

Someone with a psychology degree should be able to figure this out. I can’t. Matilda’s gotten into my head and found my weakest synapse, my rawest wound, and my deepest secret. Lies told to live a happy and fulfilled life describe us both. Not quite, but I’ve gotten close enough to crazy to believe so.

There really is a dead child and shadows. One little shadow waited patiently for me to return to Ashland.

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