An hour later, Jim had his wife wrapped up in a robe, sitting on the couch with her hands wrapped around a cup of tea, her hair still wet. He hadn't left her side once since the bathroom incident, and he didn't plan to anytime soon. She had been shaking nonstop, and honestly, so had he. And she'd hardly said anything since.
"Mel, this sure has escalated quickly," Jim stated as he sat down next to his wife on the couch. "Was this ghost trying to hurt you?"
"No," Melinda said shakily, lifting her mug to her lips with trembling hands. "She was just showing me what happened to her, I think. But it was so violent." Mel shivered and huddled deeper into the robe, tucking her face into Jim's shoulder.
"Obviously," Jim said drily, running his fingers over the finger marks on her neck gingerly. When she cringed a little, he dropped his hand and instead stroked her arm with it. "But what was with the man who was attacking you — or her — having my face? I don't understand it."
Melinda shook her head and set her mug down on the table in front of the couch before snuggling underneath Jim's arm, one of her hands resting on her pregnant stomach. "I'm not sure exactly. Remember that ghost I had a few years ago who showed me the man that had kidnapped her in my vision, and he had your face?" Jim nodded, and she continued, "She was trying to tell me she was taken by someone she loved. Maybe that's what Erin is telling me, too." Melinda shrugged, doubting herself. "I don't know. Just a theory."
Jim simply nodded. The two were silent for a few minutes, simply sitting there on the couch, Jim rubbing Melinda's arm and comforting her without saying a single word. Finally, when the silence broke, it wasn't Melinda or Jim who spoke. It was a little voice coming from behind them. "Mom, are you okay?"
They both whirled around to see Aiden standing at the foot of the stairs, watching them with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Jim had already gotten him dressed in his pajamas, and he looked so cuddly that Melinda crooked her finger at him, telling him to come over to her. She hugged him tight and situated him between his parents, careful not to position him on her belly. "I'm okay," Melinda assured him, stroking his soft little cheek. "Did you see something?"
It gutted Melinda to know that their son had to, a lot of the time, see the horrible things she saw. It was one thing for a grown-ass woman to see those things; it was another thing entirely for a child to be exposed to them.
"Yeah," Aiden said with a nod. "I saw a girl. And a baby. And the girl was being choked." Aiden's eyes were wide with fear and he nestled his head against his mom's arm. "Did she die?"
Melinda hugged Aiden's head to her and missed the top of it. "I think so, baby. But don't worry about that tonight. Mommy will help her." Melinda looked at Jim, who was stroking Aiden's ankle softly. "Do you want Daddy to read to you in our bed until you fall asleep?"
Aiden nodded and Mel kissed his cheek twice and then his forehead before Jim scooped him up off the couch and carried him to their bedroom, like he had done with her so many times, under so many different circumstances.
Melinda softly stroked her neck, stroked the angry red marks there, with her other hand on her belly. She decided to take the moment alone to attempt to reach Erin. She stood up, despite being dizzy (Jim would have yanked her off her feet), her hands on her hips.
"Erin, can you please talk to me?" Melinda said, her right hand still resting on her stomach. The baby was kicking furiously, startling Melinda a little. Of course, Erin didn't appear at first, and Mel was pretty tempted already to go upstairs, lay in bed with Jim and Aiden and forget about everything and everyone.
"Erin, look. I want answers about that vision you just gave me." Melinda's voice was frustrated when she spoke.
Finally, there she was. Erin was standing in the corner of the living room, her hands clasped together. Her eyes were fierce. "Look, Melinda," she mocked, "I didn't send you any vision. It was the other girl."
Melinda's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "What other girl? I haven't seen anybody else." Melinda contemplated for a moment. Could the person who did that — whatever it was — to Erin have done the same thing to somebody else? Another girl?
Erin rolled her eyes obnoxiously, like it was just the most obvious answer in the world that she was about to give. "The other girl he did this to."
"Who? Who did this to you?"
"The man in white. I can't see his face in my head anymore. Just like I can't remember my mom and dad's faces." She looked sad again, cracking her tough exterior. She was a beautiful girl, really, despite her obnoxious attitude; she had stunning blue eyes and natural white-blonde hair, with a thin frame and tiny features.
"Was it in Parkway that this happened? Is that what you meant when you said you had never left?" Melinda was starting to put two and two together, despite the fact that she was about to pass out from exhaustion. Nearly being strangled to death, even in a vision, tended to do that to you.
Erin's eyes filled with tears, causing Melinda's to as well. "I can't remember," she said, anguish apparent in her voice. "I'm so sorry."
And that was that. Erin disappeared with a whoosh, leaving Melinda with her head spinning and tears rushing down her cheeks. Mel could already tell that this ghost was going to be one that would influence her, her emotions and her physical health, and make it difficult for her to function.
Even dizzy, Melinda made it to the stairs just as Jim was coming down them, and he caught her before she hit the floor. "Mel," he said, hooking his hands under her arms in an attempt to help her stand. It didn't work. "Hey, what's wrong?"
Melinda looked up through teary brown eyes and saw the raw concern in Jim's beautiful blue eyes. "Erin," she said simply.
Jim needed no further explanation. He just grabbed her head and cradled her to his chest, rocking her back and forth and kissing her head. She wrapped her arms around Jim's, feeling safer than she could possibly explain. But the feeling of total sadness and confusion lingered, and feeling safe wasn't enough.
Melinda fell into a sleep that was so fitful she may as well have not slept at all. Sleeping with Aiden in their bed had never been easy. She considered carrying him to his bed but she knew Jim would be mad if he found out she carried their very long and tall six-year-old son, pregnant and dizzy. So she just lay there, thinking, going over ideas of what to do about Erin in her head.
She knew spirits could give her visions without appearing, but that didn't ease her curiosity about who the there girl was that Erin was talking about. The possibility of a serial killer lingered in her mind and made her even more sick to her stomach.
Melinda had no clue Jim was awake until he reached over Aiden and, in the darkness, grabbed her hand, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. "Can't sleep?" he asked, looking at her like she was his entire world. And she was. Her and their son and, now, the baby growing inside of her.
He knew her so well. She just nodded. "Is there anything I can do?" His eyes were so concerned, it made her own almost well up again. It seemed like she was constantly either crying or on the verge of crying lately, for one reason or another. This time, though, it was a good reason.
"Can you carry Aiden back to his bed? That might help," she said, reaching over and stroking Aiden's hand with her free one, the other hand holding Jim's tightly.
Jim merely nodded and scooped Aiden up. Aiden didn't even stir when Jim kissed him on the cheek and carried him off to his little bedroom. When Jim came back, Melinda was lying on her side, and when he climbed into bed, she snuggled up close to him like she had so many times, her face in his chest. She took a deep breath and said nothing.
"You feel a little warm," Jim noted, stroking her forehead. "Do you feel sick?"
Melinda nodded. "Yeah, a little. I think it's the ghost, though. There's a difference between a ghost sick and a pregnancy sick." Spirits had caused her to be nearly deathly sick before, but this one was affecting her emotional state, too, and she hated that even worse.
"I just don't feel right."
Jim put his hand on the bag of her head and held it tightly to him, kissing her forehead six times, from left to right. His lips lingered there momentarily before he spoke. "Mentally or physically?"
"Both," Melinda replied, her face buried tightly in Jim's neck now. She breathed in his scent; that always calmed her a bit, even now. "Erin said there's another ghost, and I think she's the one who gave me that vision… but I haven't seen her yet. I'm thinking maybe they were killed by the same person."
Jim sighed deeply. "Whoever gave you that vision, it scared me to death, Mel." His voice was wavering, and that scared Melinda. "I've seen ghosts hurt you ever since we first met. It scared me then, but this scared me worse."
Melinda let out a humorless chuckle. "It scared me, too, believe me. I'm okay, though, really." She wasn't. She wasn't okay, and Jim knew it.
"Melinda, she left marks on your neck. Whoever it was, you were practically strangled," Jim pointed out. Melinda could tell he was growing angry; not at her, but at the ghost, and at the fact that he constantly had to watch his wife get hurt. "I haven't been that scared in a while. Not since you were almost buried alive in the tunnels a few years ago."
Jim was stroking her hair as he spoke, and finally, she felt herself getting sleepy. She let out a yawn, and Jim's tense facial expression relaxed into a small smile. "Go to sleep, babe. I'll be right here."
She didn't have to be told twice. She rolled over onto her side, holding Jim's hand tightly. She fell into a dreamless sleep for the first time in a while, Jim's hand stroking her hair.
The next day, Melinda went out to lunch with Delia. Jim had begged for her to let him stay home with her, but she refused. She told him she was going out to lunch with Delia, but in truth Delia didn't know yet. Luckily, Delia said yes immediately, no hesitation. They hadn't seen each other much in the last couple weeks, so Melinda was pretty excited to see her best friend.
The sleep had Melinda in a decent mood. She had awoken that morning in Jim's arms again, snuggled against his chest, his body wrapped protectively around her with the baby in her stomach in between them. No nightmares. No visions. No being awoken by spirits. It was divine and did wonders for Melinda's mood the next morning.
Her and Delia went to Lento's. They talked mostly about the baby; Melinda was pretty sure Delia was as excited as her and Jim were, and it was amazing. Delia asked when they would find out the sex, and Melinda told her in a couple of weeks and that she would let her know. They ate and talked for almost three hours, Delia nursing a glass of wine and Melinda a Sprite.
The amazing mood Melinda was in lasted until she got home, and the moment she walked in the door, she felt a presence. Well, that was nice while it lasted, she thought.
"Look, Erin, if you can't give me any answers, you really need to leave me alone," Melinda said drily.
But the voice that answered her wasn't Erin's. It was someone else, and it was coming from the kitchen. Melinda rushed in to see a spirit she'd never seen before, standing by the refrigerator. She was also petite, just like Erin, except with dark brown hair and beautiful brown eyes. She, also like Erin, was stunning.
"I'm not Erin," the girl said before Melinda rushed into the kitchen.
"I can see that," Melinda replied. "What's your name?"
The girl watched Melinda intently as she hung her coat up. "My name is Rachel. Rachel Willis."
Rachel didn't seem to have nearly the attitude that Erin did, and that was some relief to Melinda. She wasn't sure she could handle two ghosts like that. "How can I help you?" Melinda asked, taking a few steps closer to the girl. Sadness came off Rachel in waves, and Melinda felt that cloud hanging over her head again, the same one she had felt the day before.
"Can you please tell my baby I'm sorry? And that I didn't mean to leave her?" Tears were in Rachel's beautiful brown eyes.
Melinda nodded, trying to speak around the huge lump in her throat. This poor girl, she thought. "Of course. What's your baby's name?" Melinda grabbed a pencil and piece of paper from the junk drawer.
"Audrey. Audrey Kate Willis. She lives at 1401 South Avery Street in Bay Ridge, with my parents." Melinda scribbled as Rachel spoke, hoping she could read her own handwriting later.
Melinda nodded in understanding. "I can do that. Was it you who gave me that vision? While I was in the bathtub?" she asked with caution, sitting down at the small kitchen table. Her feet were killing her.
Rachel nodded, her eyes falling down to the floor. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know how else to show you. I was too scared to come to you, until I saw how you helped that other girl. The blonde one."
"How else can I help you?" Melinda asked her, prepared to write more details down if needed.
"Just find my baby girl. Then we'll talk." Rachel gave her a small, shy and slightly sad smile before disappearing, and Melinda was alone.
Melinda could feel herself in a dream, although it almost felt like a vision. She had fallen asleep on the couch, just briefly, until Jim came home for lunch, and only slept for what felt like two seconds before she found herself having a nightmare.
In her dream, Melinda saw Rachel lying on a table, her arms strapped down. A tall man in a long white lab coat was standing over her. Melinda watched as the man shoved a handful of about twenty pills down Rachel's throat and forced her to swallow them, even though she was on the verge of choking to death. The look in Rachel's eyes was pure terror and confusion.
"Now please, Mrs. Willis. This is for your own good, and your husband is expecting only the best care from us," the man said. Melinda couldn't see his face, but his voice was low and gruff.
For a moment, Rachel appeared to be falling asleep, but then her eyes opened, and she started to whimper. Her cries soon turned into a horrific seizing, violent, with every vein in Rachel's head and neck bulging.
Then, stillness. Rachel was still, her eyes empty and unseeing.
Melinda woke up disoriented, feeling her head about to explode, so nauseous she was afraid to sit up. She did anyway and then rose into a standing position and made it to the kitchen before she collapsed on the floor, her head hitting the floor with a loud thwack. Everything went black, and suddenly, she was shaking.