"She talks to me… all the time…" – David Collins ('Dark Shadows' - 2012)
Chapter Seven: David's Room
"Mom? Mom? Is this the right room for me?"
"Yes, sweetheart, of course it is… go in…"
David entered the room and as soon as he did he saw a center table with a box of matches, ran to it, grabbed the box, slid a match out of the box, lit it and then lit whatever candle stubs were left in the room.
"This is the old room of your counterpart, Daniel, my son," said the ghost of Laura Collins.
"Mother, I don't know who you mean," David told her.
"It makes very little difference, David," she related to him, "All you need to know is that this room is dry, and cosy and safe from all supernatural hostilities."
"All right," David responded, as he looked about and found a dusty bed to, perhaps, sleep in.
"Is there anything else you need to know tonight, David?" Laura asked.
"Yes," David sighed, as he pulled back the linen of the bed he'd found and sat on it, looking at her, "Can you tell me anything else about what to expect?"
"I'm not sure I can, sweetheart. I have done my best for you, as I always have."
David heaved a sigh and pulled his feet under the sheets and blankets, shoes and all, "I understand, Mother. I just wish I could know what choices to make in the days to come."
"I'll do my best to instruct you, David," Laura told her son, "but for now we have to await the tides, just as boats need to do in their travails for fishing…"
David sighed again and shifted in his little bed.
"Mother?"
"Yes, David?"
"Do you know how... proud... I am of you?"
"No. I had ideas, but please tell me what you're thinking…"
David looked at the dusty chandelier in his current room at The Old House, "I watched everyone try so hard to defeat Angelique. You told me such a long time ago how terrible she was. So many of our living relatives were ready to fight her off. We were all left at a standstill… but you…"
"Yes?"
"You came when she looked at me. You arrived when I told her, 'Not me. My Mom.'"
"Yes," Laura smiled at her living son, "what choice did I have?"
"Not many, Mom. I mean, we were all waiting for someone to help us. You were the obvious choice. And you got her… you got her good."
Wispy tones echoed throughout the room, "It was my pleasure, David. I was awaiting the opportunity to strike her down… since the night I died."
David turned in his bed, pulling the blankets over his right shoulder and smiling at his mothers' ghost, "I thought it was something you were waiting for, Mom."
The greenish blue spirit hovered around the Old House chandelier of David's chosen room, smiling pleasantly at her son, who she'd done her best to bring up since her "accident".
"I was awaiting the chance to defeat her, David. Your place in everything that happened provided me with that chance. Angelique needed to be severely distracted. She needed Carolyn to jump at her, to have Barnabas as an element of concern, to have a servant ready with an axe, and to have your Aunt wielding and shooting a gun at her before I had enough strength to shriek, and do away with her. "
David shifted in bed. On his back he smiled at his mother, "You were… perfect…"
"I was, wasn't I? I'd tried to be. I was so angry and I let everything sit and well up and take hold of me entirely in that moment. I hope I succeeded in doing away with her once and for all."
David brought the blankets up to his chin, "That's what I feel now, Mom. I can't tell that she is anywhere near us anymore… I hope that is enough."
"It's all the proof I can ask for, sweetheart…. Now… get up… and… come toward this mirror…"
David blinked, having gotten so cosy in his Old House bed, he decided he might as well get up to peruse what his mother wanted him to see at the dresser mirror.
"What is that, Mother?"
"It is a message. It may be important or... it may not be."
"What does it say?"
"It's coming through now, David. Read me the letters."
"N... O… S… I… M… A… J…" David repeated from the red scrawl that came through on the mirror, "What does that mean, Mother?"
"Read it to me, David. Read it left to right."
"Ja… Jam… Jamison… Mom? Who is that?"
"A relation, someone who lived long ago at Collinwood. A little boy who was very much like you, David."
David watched as the red lettering on the mirror flashed alight and then faded away.
Looking down, David sighed dejectedly, "M-o-m? Why do we need more people and ancestors and relatives? Don't we have enough to do now with everyone who is still left after Father went away?"
"It's only a matter of what might be important in the future. I didn't want you to fall asleep without, perhaps, understanding one of your counterparts in our family."
David blinked and looked up happily at his wispy ghost of a mother, "Does that mean I can go back to bed now?"
"Of course, sweetheart! Go to bed and feel free to dream your own dreams and, for the time being, forget everything I've told you."
David smiled in the abundance of relief, and leapt into his Old House bed as cosily as if he was Barnabas Collins being released from the curse of Mephistopheles.
Flapping the sheets and blankets back upon himself, he turned happily and listened to the crickets outside which brought him to blissful slumber.
T'was like the words were written backwards
And on a tiny grain of sand
But in fact they were gigantic
And written in bold red
Nevertheless I didn't hear the warning
Of my pending fate
It's my practice to disregard omens
Until it is too late
Heed the call
Heed the call
Rising from the death, I've never seen
Something came and moved me
In a way I've never been… moved
Lost it in the impulse, lost it in the urge
In a well of my own feelings
Lost to point of no return
Gave it in a whisper, gave it in a sigh
Cast part of myself aside, and I don't wanna know why
Rising from a depth, I've never seen…
Something came…
{"words written backwards" by Single Gun Theory}
A/N: Let me know what you liked! Stay safe and blessed be!