2015
"It was the bad lady that hut me," Taylor explains quietly, grasping her left arm and rubbing the faint scar there. "I was going downstairs to the living room to pick out a movie and she started yelling at me." Taylor flinches at the memory, parts of it blurry while others are clear as a bell. "She said we was trespassing on her land and that she would bathe in our blood if we didn't leave. I didn't believe her, none of the other ghosts have ever been able to hurt me, and I told her that it wasn't her house no more. I told her I wasn't afraid of her and that made her mad."
"What did she do to you Taylor," Sidney asks, leaning forward in his seat with his notebook perched on one knee. Taylor leans back instinctively, wanting to put some space between them. After that night, the bad night that still makes her wake up screaming, Taylor doesn't like strangers to be close to her.
"She punched me in the stomach and then she kicked me down the stairs. I don't remember a lot of it, but I remember my arm hurting after I landed on it and how bad the shot the doctors gave me felt. After that, I just got really mad and I wanted to hurt the bad lady back." Taylor looks up, her gaze locking with Sidney's. "I still want to make her hurt like she made us. I will do it one day."
2014
It's almost eight at night when Shelby hears a light knock on the door of her bedroom, glancing up from her book in time to see her niece poking her head through the gap between the door and the wall. "What's up," she asks Taylor with a smile.
"Daddy's done reading," Taylor answers, stepping inside with the cellphone clasped in both of her hands. She looks so unsure of herself and keeps her eyes on the ground like she's afraid to look up or something. It's odd behavior, but Shelby supposes that she had acted pretty odd herself when her own mother passed away. She still feels that ache in her chest, but it seems to have doubled now that her older sister has died of the same illness.
"You wanna come sit with me for a little bit?" Taylor nods and slides her feet across the floor, her Mickey Mouse socks making her almost glide over to the bed. Taylor is able to climb up onto the bed by herself and she scoots close to Shelby's side, smiling a little when Shelby wraps an arm loosely around her shoulders.
"Do you think Mommy went to Heaven?"
"I'm positive that she did. In fact, she's probably looking down on us as we speak, making sure her baby's all nice and warm." Taylor nods, but her smile slowly turns into a worried frown. "What is it, honey?"
"I miss her." Her eyes have filled with tears and Shelby holds her tightly against her chest, wanting nothing more than to bring Monica back so Taylor would have a mother that knew what she was doing. Shelby can barely take care of herself at this point, the house giving her the creeps and the loss of her own baby making it difficult to stay in the present instead of checking out completely. "And I miss my daddy."
"I know you do, baby," Shelby murmurs, rubbing the little girl's back soothingly," and I'm so sorry you're having to go through all of this." Shelby's eyes sting with tears, but she fights them back for the moment. She needs to be strong right now, for her niece if nothing else. "You know what? Why don't we go curl up on the couch downstairs like we used to when you'd come visit me?" Taylor sniffles and pulls back to look up at her, using her fist to wipe her tears away.
"With blankets and pillows?"
"And hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows." Shelby smiles when her niece does, brushing some of the blonde hair off her face from where the tears has made it stick. It's still so weird to see how similar Taylor and Monica are despite Taylor's light brown skin; the same button nose, pale gray eyes, and beautiful smile that makes Shelby glad to claim this kid as her family. "You go and pick out the movie and I'll gather up our stuff." Taylor gives and excited nod, scrambling to get off the bed and running across the room.
"Aunt Shel?"
"Yeah?" Taylor has paused in the doorway, one impossibly tiny hand grasping the frame as she looks at Shelby over her shoulder.
"I love you bunches." Shelby manages a laugh at that, relief making her chest feel a little less tight. Taylor is affectionate, but she isn't the type to say those four words very often and it makes Shelby glad to know that she's still loved despite bringing Taylor all the way to North Carolina with its creepy houses and toothy hailstorms.
"Ditto, Princess." Taylor giggles at that and sprints away, Shelby able to hear her footsteps on the stairs. Knowing Matt will be in the kitchen and perfectly capable of helping guide Taylor away from any monster movies, Shelby focuses instead on piling pillows in the middle of the bed before wrapping them all up in the heavy comforter.
This is an old tradition from when Shelby was still going to college and Taylor would come visit her in the dorm. The two of them along with Shelby's roommate would pile up on the couch with all the pillows and blankets they could find, drink hot chocolate and eat French Fries from McDonald's, and then they'd watch Disney movies or the Star Wars trilogy. It usually ended with all of them passed out halfway through, Taylor lying across their laps with dried chocolate and salt covering her face. It was back before Monica got sick, so it should give Taylor something fun to focus on instead of the fact that her mother is currently being buried.
Shelby shakes her head and moves across the hall to Taylor's bedroom, humming as she picks up the little teddy bear and Taylor's favorite pillow. It actually belongs to Nico, but Taylor brings it with her whenever she stays the night so she still has part of home. Nico's soap clings to the soft fabric of the pillowcase and it helps to soothe Taylor before she goes to sleep.
Once Shelby adds the pillow and teddy to the nest of blankets in her arms, she moves to the top of the stairs and freezes in confusion. Taylor is standing on the bottom step, brows furrowed as she stares up at the top where Shelby is standing.
"Taylor, are you okay?" She doesn't say anything, just keeps staring at something with narrowed eyes. She seemed to be growing angry or frustrated about something, but Shelby can't be sure about what. "What are you doing?"
"She's being mean," Taylor practically growls, raising her chin ever so slightly. "She's yelling at us to get out, but it's not her land anymore."
"Who's yelling?" Is she having some kind of seizure? Blanking out of reality or just imagining something because she's so tired? Shelby isn't sure, but the fact that her niece is yelling at some imaginary woman has her on edge.
"The bad lady." Taylor's hands bunch into tight fists at her sides, some of her hair falling loose from the braid it's still in. "Go away! I'm not afraid of you!" What happens next seems to play out in slow motion, Taylor letting out a choked gasp as she doubles over, small body flying backwards off the stair and twisting midair. Shelby is paralyzed, only able to watch in terror as her niece lands hard on her arm, the loud crack and her shout that follows breaking the spell.
Shelby drops everything she holds, taking the stairs two at a time and falling to her knees when she finally reaches her niece on the floor. Taylor is crying loudly, clutching her wrist against her chest as Shelby turns her over and hauls her up into her arms. Her upper lip is bleeding and there is a dark red mark visible just over the neck of Taylor's sweater, but neither of those things are what cause Shelby to feel sick to her stomach.
"Oh, my God," she gasps out, turning her gaze to Matt as he comes running into the room.
"What the hell happened," Matt demands as he kneels next to them, staring down at their niece with wide eyes. "Shelby!" She jumps at the shout, shaking her head a little.
"I don't…. She was yelling that there was a bad woman on the stairs and then she just went flying backwards like someone had kicked her. No one was there, Matt. I was the only other person on the stairs and I was at the very top! Oh God, her wrist!" The wrist of her left arm is dented in the center, a bit of white bone sticking out surrounded by blood that stains the white fabric of Shelby's pajama bottoms.
"Go get her coat and shoes and meet me in the truck." Matt scoops her up in his arms and starts to run. "And get something hard to rest this arm on until we get her to the hospital!"
Shelby looks up as Matt walks back into the hospital room, his hands full with two cups of coffee and a balloon tucked under his arm. "I stopped by the gift shop," he explains, handing Shelby a cup before setting the other on a table and tying the string of the balloon to the hospital bed. "I thought she'd like it when she woke up." Taylor is still fast asleep because of the anesthesia, her left arm in a purple cast.
"She'll love it even more because it came from her favorite uncle."
"I'm her only uncle." Shelby smiles up at him, sliding her free hand into his and squeezing it. "Unless your aunt gets married again, then I'm her only uncle that isn't into ladies pushing fifty."
"Which definitely makes you the best." He gives a soft laugh, sitting beside her on the edge of Taylor's bed. The thought of her only niece being hurt so badly in a place where she's meant to feel safe makes Shelby's stomach churn. She isn't even sure how it had happened; one second Taylor was yelling at some kind of invisible friend and then she was flying through the air. It's just so wrong and horrible.
"Daddy," Taylor moans, reaching out blindly until Shelby grasps her little hand.
"Aunt Shel's right here, baby."
"I want my daddy." Shelby props her up just enough to slide in beside her, wrapping Taylor up in her arms. "Why isn't Daddy here yet?"
"He can't get a flight out yet, but he said he's coming as soon as he can." Shelby had called him as Taylor was wheeled away to get her bone reset, telling him that his daughter had simply fallen down a couple of stairs since there's no real way to explain what had happened. All Shelby can think of is ghosts, but that's ridiculous. "Go back to sleep. You need your rest."
"We can't go home."
"Why not," Matt asks.
"'Cause the bad lady is there and she wants to hurt us." Shelby and Matt share a look, each of them wondering if one of the hillbillies had put the idea of ghosts in Taylor's head. Shelby certainly wouldn't put it past them since they seemed just the type to terrify a little girl with an overactive imagination. After all, one of them had been screaming and tearing up the trashcans just two nights ago. "She said she's gonna make us hurt real bad, Uncle Matt."
"Don't you worry, Princess, I won't let anyone lay a hand on you for as long as I live." And sitting there in the hospital, rage burning in Matt's dark eyes, Shelby can believe it. Matt is a man of his word, if he said he'd protect this little girl, then not even an ax murderer would come between the two of them. It's why Shelby loves him so much, his need to protect everyone he loves and cares for.
She'd been so scared after the attack in California, when he didn't wake up for so long in the hospital, but then he'd squeezed her hand and his eyes had opened. Even recovering from his surgery, he'd put her needs first and agreed to move the first chance they got because California held too many bad memories for her to stay there a moment longer than was necessary. And then Monica had passed away in the middle of the night, leaving Nico inconsolable and Shelby numbed by shock.
Monica had been the strong one, always there when Shelby needed someone to lean on. It would be years until Shelby stopped reaching for her phone first thing in the morning, wanting to call her sister and ask how the night had been. Now Shelby has to be the strong one, she has to make sure that Taylor is dressed for the day and fed, has to check up on her brother-in-law every other day to make sure he hasn't fallen to pieces as he planned the funeral.
Shelby has to be there for her family and she'll hurt anyone that tries to stop her.