Spring Harvest: An Absolutely Addictive Supernatural Psychological Thriller by Rektok Ross

Author:Rektok Ross [Ross, Rektok]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ic13 Books
Published: 2024-04-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Time passes in a cloud of darkness and confused thoughts. My brain is a dense fog. I exist, but that’s about it.

No sound. No smell. No sight.

No sense of anything, really.

Death or dream, I’m not sure, but if I had to guess, I think I’m still alive. I don’t think there’s pain like this in Heaven.

My body heats with a constant fire that goes all the way from my inner core down to the tips of my toes, head aching like a thousand nails from a gun puncturing into my skull. Every time it gets to be too much, and I’m certain I can’t survive another minute, he’s there.

I sense his presence, and something about it calms me. If I’m dying, at least I’m not dying alone. Not like my mother did on that wet road on Christmas Eve years ago. The thought that someone is with me, that I won’t leave this world all by myself, comforts me.

Eventually, I begin to sense more. Solid bits and pieces of my current existence. I no longer just float in the nether land; I start to experience little slivers of life.

Sipping water he gives me.

Swallowing pills from his hand to cool the flames on my skin.

Eating bits of bread that he brings.

Listening to stories he reads to me. Familiar stories that make me smile inside.

Then, falling asleep. Again.

And again.

And then one day, just like that, I’m fully awake.

When the fog lifts for good, the first thing I notice is pink.

Pink walls. Pink pillows. Pink sheets. Pink stuffed animals. A warm, soft pink comforter, faintly smelling of strawberries, envelops my body. Even the canopy bed I’m lying in is pink. My favorite color, it instantly reminds me of my childhood bedroom. I feel safe, despite having no idea where I actually am.

Across from me, early evening light seeps through a large bay window and casts the room in a golden glow. It must be dusk. Centered beside the window is a rocking chair with a pillow and blanket thrown over it, like someone has been sleeping there. A table nestles next to the chair and a kerosene lamp sits on top beside a worn-looking copy of Percy Jackson’s The Lightning Thief.

I recognize the cover right away. Growing up, my mom and I used to read all the Percy Jackson books together. No wonder the stories had sounded so familiar to me…

A closet with mirrored doors is on the other side of the bedroom. My reflection stares back at me, and I sit up, shocked by my haggard appearance.

My skin is paler than I’ve ever seen it, even paler than during finals week when I don’t have time to spray tan. Hair mats against my damp neck like a rat’s nest, dark bags residing beneath my eyes. My lips, dry and crusty, are in dire need of plumping balm. I go to wipe the crud from my mouth, and something clinks beside me, banging against the side of the bed. A glance to my right reveals a plastic tube attached to my arm.

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