Read Online Grimm's Last Fairy Tale by Becky Lyn Rickman - Free Book Online
Authors: Becky Lyn Rickman
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enough to make it difficult, but the thought of not seeing Jacob again and the terrible manner in which the estrangement occurred, made this one particularly troublesome.
As the week progressed, she was becoming increasingly disconnected—almost disoriented. She didn’t much care about the books. She certainly didn’t care to write. She wasn’t eating right or sleeping right and it was beginning to take its toll.
When she was able to catch some sleep, there were the nightmares; the looking over her shoulder constantly; the inconsolable pain. When she would crawl into bed, too soon after getting home from work, she would toss and turn and the furry guys would prowl around with her. They would curl up on her chest to sleep, attempting to comfort her. It felt like nothing could break the spell.
In the old days, she would pull out her Grimm’s Fairy Tales and get lost in them. But that no longer worked. She went so far as to hide her volume under the mattress. Out of sight should have been out of mind, but that wasn’t working.
Her patrons began to notice a change in her. They worried about the state she seemed unable to pull herself from. She was losing weight, but she attributed that to the erratic eating and sleeping schedule she was living by. Finally, nausea joined the growing list of complaints.
Maggie found herself doubled over one day at work. It had been a quiet day except for the scurrying and chirping of Hemingway the cat in her attempt to catch some sort of creepy crawly thing. Maggie tried to call a few people, but no one was answering. She finally determined that this needed to be addressed and turned the sign to closed, shut off the computer and lights, and tried feebly to get to her car. Her mission fell short and she collapsed in the parking lot.
When she came to, she was lying in a hospital bed. She rang the button for a nurse.
“What happened? How did I get here?”
“Well, hello, Miss Austen. It is so good to see you awake. Let me call for the doctor.”
“O.K., but can you not just tell me what’s going on? I really don’t want to wait for answers. I’m a little frightened.”
“I understand. Dr. Thomas is actually here in the hospital and I know he would like to talk to you. It shouldn’t be but a few minutes.”
“Yes, of course, thank you.”
The nurse took her little ray of nurturing sunshine out of the room, leaving it a little gloomy. The minutes crawled until Dr. Thomas finally sat at her bedside.
“Miss Austen, how are you? I’m so glad to see you awake. What do you remember?”
“I remember my stomach hurting this morning at work. I closed up the shop and tried to get to my car. What is it? What’s the matter with me?”
“Well, first of all, that was not this morning. That was three days ago. You were touch and go there for a little while.”
“How did I even get here?”
“That’s the odd part. We found you lying on the sidewalk just outside the ER. We heard banging on the windows and when the orderlies went outside, there you were. There was a note pinned to your shirt giving us your name and asking us to take good care of you. It was written in the most elaborate handwriting. Do you know why someone would get you to the sidewalk and then just leave? Are you in an abusive relationship?”
Maggie felt a sob working its way up through her throat.
“No, not abusive, and, yes, I have some idea who might have done it. I have a friend. He’s from out of the area. He is a little eccentric and mysterious to say the least. I’m awfully glad he found me and brought me here, though I don’t know how I’ll ever pay for it.”
“That’s no problem. He left an envelope of money—enough to care for you and still take plenty home. I took the liberty of putting it in a safe in the president's office. I hope that's alright with you. Miss Austen, you will need taken care of, I’m afraid.”
“What is it? What’s wrong with me? Do I have a virus or
As the week progressed, she was becoming increasingly disconnected—almost disoriented. She didn’t much care about the books. She certainly didn’t care to write. She wasn’t eating right or sleeping right and it was beginning to take its toll.
When she was able to catch some sleep, there were the nightmares; the looking over her shoulder constantly; the inconsolable pain. When she would crawl into bed, too soon after getting home from work, she would toss and turn and the furry guys would prowl around with her. They would curl up on her chest to sleep, attempting to comfort her. It felt like nothing could break the spell.
In the old days, she would pull out her Grimm’s Fairy Tales and get lost in them. But that no longer worked. She went so far as to hide her volume under the mattress. Out of sight should have been out of mind, but that wasn’t working.
Her patrons began to notice a change in her. They worried about the state she seemed unable to pull herself from. She was losing weight, but she attributed that to the erratic eating and sleeping schedule she was living by. Finally, nausea joined the growing list of complaints.
Maggie found herself doubled over one day at work. It had been a quiet day except for the scurrying and chirping of Hemingway the cat in her attempt to catch some sort of creepy crawly thing. Maggie tried to call a few people, but no one was answering. She finally determined that this needed to be addressed and turned the sign to closed, shut off the computer and lights, and tried feebly to get to her car. Her mission fell short and she collapsed in the parking lot.
When she came to, she was lying in a hospital bed. She rang the button for a nurse.
“What happened? How did I get here?”
“Well, hello, Miss Austen. It is so good to see you awake. Let me call for the doctor.”
“O.K., but can you not just tell me what’s going on? I really don’t want to wait for answers. I’m a little frightened.”
“I understand. Dr. Thomas is actually here in the hospital and I know he would like to talk to you. It shouldn’t be but a few minutes.”
“Yes, of course, thank you.”
The nurse took her little ray of nurturing sunshine out of the room, leaving it a little gloomy. The minutes crawled until Dr. Thomas finally sat at her bedside.
“Miss Austen, how are you? I’m so glad to see you awake. What do you remember?”
“I remember my stomach hurting this morning at work. I closed up the shop and tried to get to my car. What is it? What’s the matter with me?”
“Well, first of all, that was not this morning. That was three days ago. You were touch and go there for a little while.”
“How did I even get here?”
“That’s the odd part. We found you lying on the sidewalk just outside the ER. We heard banging on the windows and when the orderlies went outside, there you were. There was a note pinned to your shirt giving us your name and asking us to take good care of you. It was written in the most elaborate handwriting. Do you know why someone would get you to the sidewalk and then just leave? Are you in an abusive relationship?”
Maggie felt a sob working its way up through her throat.
“No, not abusive, and, yes, I have some idea who might have done it. I have a friend. He’s from out of the area. He is a little eccentric and mysterious to say the least. I’m awfully glad he found me and brought me here, though I don’t know how I’ll ever pay for it.”
“That’s no problem. He left an envelope of money—enough to care for you and still take plenty home. I took the liberty of putting it in a safe in the president's office. I hope that's alright with you. Miss Austen, you will need taken care of, I’m afraid.”
“What is it? What’s wrong with me? Do I have a virus or
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