Banshee Song

Book One

Chapter Two



"So how have you been doing since our last session?" Marlena asked gently.

Chloe reclined casually on the couch in Marlena's office. She had been seeing Marlena regularly for the last two months since Christmas and was now quite comfortable in session. "Hmm, okay. I'm kinda tired, though. I didn't get much sleep this week."

Marlena jotted down a quick note. "Are you still having the dreams?"

Chloe shuddered involuntarily. Ever since her foster father Aaron Moore abducted and nearly killed her, she had been plagued by horribly vivid nightmares. The dreams varied. In one version, Brady never came and Moore killed her, but not before torturing and raping her. That was actually the good dream. In the other dream, Brady saved her life by jumping into the path of a bullet meant for her. She saw it a thousand times in painfully slow motion. She watched his body jerk as the bullet ripped mercilessly through him. She saw the pain and sadness in his eyes as he realized that he was dying. She heard his last word, softly whispered in a choked voice, 'goodbye'. In her dream, she cradled his cold, lifeless body and was racked by a familiar pain from long ago. Her heart broke as she felt him slipping away and every time she awoke with his name on her lips as she called out to his soul one last time. The dream absolutely terrified her because it seemed so real. She could actually feel her heart break- rip apart.

Chloe inhaled deeply and pushed the unpleasant visions from her mind. "Actually, I haven't had those dreams in awhile. This is a totally new dream."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, this dream is much better than the previous ones, but it is somewhat disturbing, kinda weird. It's funny; I guess my upcoming Julliard auditions are starting to freak me out. In my dream, I'm singing in front of the judges and everything is going very well. My voice sounds great, like it has never been before. I don't know the song, but it seems strangely familiar. Anyway, before long, I get the feeling that something is going wrong. I'm scared and the judges are scared, and I can't stop singing. The song changes and becomes… I don't know, dark. And then the judges explode."

"Explode?"

"Yeah, body parts everywhere. Like they were hit by some kind of shock wave coming from me, from my voice."

"What happens next?"

"I wake up in a cold sweat. And then I spend the next few hours worrying about my auditions."

"What do you think the dream means?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "I knew you were going to ask me that. I'm just nervous about the auditions. Julliard has been my dream my whole life, and now it's here – and I'm just afraid… that I won't get in… that I will get in. I'm also worried because I've been having problems singing lately."

Marlena looked at her, concern visible on her face. "What do you mean? You aren't still hurting from your injuries, are you?"

Chloe paled noticeably, remembering the injuries that Moore had given her. Besides the cracked ribs, punctured lung, and concussion she suffered as a result of his savage beatings, he also shot her in the shoulder, shattering her shoulder bone.

"No, I'm completely healed, well, except for my shoulder. I've accepted that it will probably always give me a little trouble. No, my voice is fine; I'm hitting all the right notes, everything is technically perfect. It's something most people wouldn't be able to notice, but Brady picked up on it immediately. Brady helps me by listening to me practice and critiquing my performance. He has a great ear. I can't describe what's wrong with my singing – there's just something off – and it's a big something. If I can't figure out what it is and fix it before the audition, then I might not make it in. And I guess that's why I'm having this dream."

Marlena nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I know nothing about music, but I do know that you have been through a great deal lately. Two months ago you almost died and it has been a long, hard road to where you are now. You have overcome so much both physically and emotionally in a very short period of time. Give it time. I'm sure that whatever is wrong will fix itself. Don't worry so much about it; just continue to focus on healing, and getting better. That is your number one priority – everything else will fall into place."

"Okay." Chloe digested the advice. She knew Marlena was right. It was unrealistic to expect everything to be perfect after all that she had endured. In fact, it was nothing short of miraculous that she had made it this far. She wouldn't have survived without her friends, her family, Brady.

"So, besides the dreams, how are you doing?" Marlena asked.

"I'm actually, … okay. It's amazing; I didn't think I'd make it through those first few weeks. The memories and nightmares were non-stop, and so,… vivid. At times, it was all I could do to leave my bed, much less the safety of my room. Sometimes, I still feel his presence in my room. Just because I know he was there, it's like he left behind some kind of emotional stain, marking where he has been, marking everything he touched. Those first few days at school, I would not have made it through without Belle and Shawn. Those two were my lifeline. Still are, actually. Sami has also been a big help, surprisingly. I followed her advice and I've been writing some in the journal Belle got me. I wrote a kind of poem weeks ago, but have only now felt like sharing it. I wrote it one night after a particularly bad nightmare, and I was still kind of half asleep so half of it doesn't make much sense. Anyway, here." Chloe handed Marlena her journal.

Marlena read the poem and then reread it.



I can't find you

Stay where you are

I'm in the dark

Stay where you are

She's dead if you want and that's me if you want

Stuffed in the corner, little girl lost

I cry and I scratch and I beg and I scream

I just need you to save me one last time

It's me if you want but it's not what I want

I want to burn up the place set it on fire

And she's back 'cause she wants to not be contained

I can't tell the truth, I can't speak this way

"This is very good, Chloe. I'm glad to see you expressing what happened to you in this way. It is very healthy to get it out of your system, and if you can use an art form to do so, than it is even better." Marlena paused in thought. "Chloe, you have progressed a great deal in our sessions, and I feel that we no longer need these weekly meetings. I would like to cut back to once a month. Of course, I am available if you feel you need the sessions more often, but I don't think you do. On that note, I believe we are done today, and we will schedule for this time next month, okay?"

"Okay!" Chloe said happily. She gave Marlena a deep hug upon leaving the room.





A\N: the poem isn't a poem. It's a song. And Chloe didn't write it, unless she happens to be a member of the grrrl punk-rock group "Sleater Kinney" Because they wrote it. And they rock!