Chapter 13
May 11th: The meds made me feel sick today.
Another wave of nausea slammed into me, and I wavered. Taking deep breaths, I continued my journal entry.
If I'm only better when I'm drugged, then who am I anyway?
I closed my notebook.
I wasn't kidding about the 'feeling sick' part. Whatever the hell the good doctors of Brookhaven slipped me today was not good. I've spent the better part of the last hour spewing like Mount St. Helens. It was just so wrong.
Apparently, Doctor Orosco had tattle-tailed on me, and she must have made it sound pretty horrendous. About an hour into my much needed nap, someone came in, woke me up, (Damn it.) and gave me some sort of anti-psychotic. It was for my "aggressive tendencies," and it was also "for my own good."
But, whatever it was, I liked it. Granted, not for the reasons that they gave it to me, but because it kept the visions away. And well, that just rocked.
For the majority of the day, I was vision free. And damn, it was great! I napped, read some books, I even did a couple of crossword puzzles- totally disregarding the fact that they were meant for people who were about twice my age.
Then, out of nowhere, the nausea hit me. I must have puked up everything that I had eaten, drank, or taken, for the last week. It was awful.
The sick feelings would ebb and surge like the tides. One second, I was peachy. The next, I was kneeling before the proverbial porcelain god.
Speaking of which…
I managed to hobble my way into the bathroom as another roll hit me.
The funny thing was that this time, it was so violent- it gave me another vision.
I began to laugh as my head surged with agony.
Startled, I yelled as I discovered that this time, I had been dumped onto a boat- of all places. Un-freaking-believable.
When it occurred to me that I would not be falling into the lake, I sat down.
James was rowing the tiny, shabby-looking rowboat. He had a determined look on his face as he steered through the pea-soup fog.
I gazed at my surroundings…Toluca Lake…
Even the once magnificent Toluca Lake had not been spared by this nightmare.
Like most of Silent Hill, I visited it frequently. Many people came out to fish on the lake for the steelheads. It was a pretty rustic, woodsman kinda deal. The sunlight dancing across the rippling water… There were supposedly even an island or two hidden somewhere on the lake. Surprisingly though, nobody's found it yet.
Now…
I paused, staring at the surface of the water. I became insanely tense as I watched the ripples. I wondered if some massive creature would lunge its way out of the depths, and snatch James up into some large, gruesome maw. I imagined the guy been torn to bloody chunks.
Shuddering, I looked away. Gray water, gray sky, gray fog, gray light in front of us. Gray, gray, gray, gray. Everything was gray. Depressing.
… Gray light??
Holy shit! "Land ho!" I yelled, laughing. I always wanted an excuse to say that.
James pulled up to a rickety-looking wooden dock, which, incidentally, was also bathed in fog. A light hung from a wooden pillar, and gave the place a very "Friday the 13th" kind of vibe. Creepy, and yet charming, too.
I followed James out of the boat, and we walked up the cobblestone path.
Within moments, we reached the Lake View Hotel. It was a lovely, Victorian era building. However, James didn't enter it. Instead, he veered off to the side, and approached the ornate, antique fountain that stood just outside the estate's gardens.
"And, what might you be?" I heard him murmur.
I crept up behind him, and peered over his shoulder. In his hands, he held an embellished music box. It was well detailed, and it even had a marble mermaid on the top of it.
"Weird." I said. What was something as expensive looking as that doing out in the middle of an abandoned hotel? Had somebody purposefully placed it there for James?
Ooh, not a good concept…
Still clutching it in his hand, he turned, and entered the hotel; leaving me no choice but to follow.
Upon passing through the doors, James froze again. I jerked to a halt before I remembered that I would merely pass through him, instead of bashing into him.
But nonetheless. "What the hell?" I yelped.
He was staring at a map on the wall. I looked too. It was a massive map of the hotel. And there was something written on it…
On the part of the map that indicated the third floor, and inscribed on Room 312, was, "Waiting for you…"
I gasped. I knew that handwriting! That bitch Mary Sunderland is here!
Sighing, James took the map off the wall. Folding it up, and tucking it into his pocket, he veered around to the right, and disappeared into the "Lake View Restaurant."
I tried to follow, but just ended up slamming my face against the door again.
"Ow." I grumbled. But, I stayed and tried to overhear what was going on.
Inside, I could hear smatterings of conversation between James, and what sounded like a young, female voice. Who the hell could that be?
Quickly, the tones became sour. I heard the female voice yell something in fear, though I couldn't make out what she was saying.
Suddenly, the door sprang open, and a little girl ran out of the room, tears silently streaming down her face.
As she ran down the hall, I chased after her, my "ghostliness" completely forgotten. "Hey, kid!" I yelled. "Wait! Don't run off alone in this place!"
She dashed down the hall that led to the hotel suites, and I followed right on her heels.
She quickly ran into one of the rooms; Room 111. Luckily, I managed to pass through the door this time.
She flopped down on the queen-sized bed and started to bawl. She was pretty talented at it too. She wept, howled, and even pounded her fists against the mattress.
"Damn kid, what the hell got into you?" I mumbled.
She jerked into a sitting position, and glowered blackly at me. "What's your problem?" She snarled.
"Wait, you can see me??" I goggled at her. What the hell is up with this? Garrett Daniels, patron saint of lost little girls??
"Course I can." She said. She didn't explain it further.
I sighed. "Okay then. Why are you crying?"
She got angry again. Quite a short fuse for such a short person. "None of your beeswax."
I was so not in the mood. Silently, I turned on my heels, and started to walk out the door.
"Where are you going?" she snapped.
"Kid, you clearly don't want me around. Besides, I am in no mood to deal with a snotty, little attitude." I replied coolly.
"Wait! Don't go!" She wailed. She ran up to me, and threw her arms around my waist. She started to bawl.
She can touch me? Fucking hell dimensions and their lack of sane rules.
Grumbling to myself, I leaned down and started to console the kid. I held her to me while she wept.
Slowly counting to ten, I took a deep breath and asked her what her name was.
"Laura." She snuffled. "Laura Barnett."
"Okay. Well Laura, why are you so upset?"
"Because I can't find the letter that Mary wrote to me!" she sobbed.
I became instantly tense. "Mary Sunderland?" I asked, guarded.
"Yeah. How'd you know?" she said. She looked up into my eyes.
I wondered how to reply without freaking her out. "Let's just say that she and I… have a history."
She wasn't buying it. "What happened?" she demanded. Kid was a fucking dictator-in-training.
"Mary Sunderland has done some bad things to me and to my friends." I said gently.
She was livid. "Then you musta deserved it 'cause Mary wouldn't hurt good people!" she yelled.
My parenting personality kicked in. "Excuse me, young lady! I don't deserve it, James doesn't deserve it, and my friend Delia certainly doesn't deserve it!" I growled.
Her eyes went wide. "Delia… Delia Carver?" she squeaked. She looked up at me. "Are you Garrett?" she asked.
I blinked. Now I was confused. "You know me?"
"For as long as I can remember, Mary always talked about you, Delia, and James. She talked about some other people too, but she told me not to mention them. Anyways, she said you guys are special."
I paused. "What do you mean?"
I sat on the bed, and she climbed up into my lap. "She said you're special, but James and Delia aren't." I froze, and she snuggled against me. "Mary said all kinds of stuff about the three of you."
"Like what?" I asked. My voice came out hoarse, and I didn't think that she noticed. She pressed on.
"Mary says you're going to lead the way."
I was growing steadily colder. "And, what does that mean?"
"Uhmmmm." She paused. "I'm not sure."
I almost, almost, yelled at the kid. But, I managed to calmly squeeze out, "Come on honey. Just take a couple of deep breaths, close your eyes, and try to remember what she said." I pressed.
She did as I asked. Her eyes still closed, she grinned. "Oh, yeah! Now I remember!" she cried in triumph.
"Yes?" I pushed.
"You'll stay in Silent Hill forever."