Read Online The Ending Beginnings: Clara (An Ending Series Novella) (The Ending Series) by Lindsey Fairleigh, Lindsey Pogue - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lindsey Fairleigh, Lindsey Pogue
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moved.
She felt the roughness of terrycloth against her skin and the biting cold as
she was rushed out of the bathroom.
Words bounced
around in her mind, but her eyelids were too heavy to open, her mind too numb
to process.
“…bed…warm…sick…dead…careful…”
Teeth chattering
and body convulsing, Clara felt a soft pressure cover her, comforting her, and
something malleable cradled her head.
“Sleep,” was the
last thing she heard before her mind grayed and her thoughts were lost in
darkness.
6
A
crash and screaming woke Clara from a deep sleep. Her mind had been dormant,
warm and safe in the fissures of her consciousness. But the crashing sound…it
riled her awareness, and the cool air lapped at her exposed cheeks and her
nose.
Annoyed,
she sat up in bed. Her room was dark, and she glanced at the digital clock on
her nightstand. 7:46 PM. Her stomach gurgled with hunger, and her mouth was
stale and dry. How long had she been asleep?
Peering
around her tidied room, Clara was confused. She remembered piles of rags and the
stench of vomit. Now, her room was clean; the putrid smell was gone, and the
rags and vomit-filled garbage can were nowhere in sight. All that remained was
an empty wastebasket on the floor beside her bed, and a mountain of blankets
covering her.
She
remembered Roberta’s voice and the warmth of the shower. Clara shivered at the
memory. She’d been so cold, so tired. She’d thought she was dying.
A
clatter in the hallway startled her, and she threw the covers back and stepped
onto the cold floor. Removing a clean sweatshirt from the bottom drawer of her
dresser, Clara pulled it over her head before tugging on a clean pair of jeans.
Her
head was still hazy, and she rubbed her temple with one hand as she opened the
door to the hallway with the other. Maybe some food would help…
Stepping
out into the empty hallway, she peered down at the bedrooms to the right. All
the doors were closed. She peered to the left. The light of the television flickered
in the darkened rec room, sparking a feeling of unease.
Where
was everyone? Clara couldn’t hear chatter coming from the rec room, and it was
Sunday, so there shouldn’t have been any group sessions. At least, she thought
it was Sunday. Maybe everyone was in the cafeteria for dinner?
A
loud crash startled her. It was coming from inside Alicia’s room, directly
across from hers. Clara took a tentative step out into the hall. Another crash,
closely followed by a bone-chilling scream reverberated through Alicia’s door.
“Alicia?”
Clara rasped, her voice hoarse from disuse. Clearing her throat, she tried
again. “Alicia?”
But
there was no answer, only the sound of more crashing and screaming.
Hesitantly,
Clara reached for the handle. The door was locked.
BANG.
Clara jumped back, her hand clasping over her mouth as she tried to control her
breathing. BANG. The door rattled and the handle jiggled as what sounded like
snarls and growling emanated from the other side. BANG. BANG.
Fingers
wrapped around Clara’s upper arm, and she spun around with a shriek. Roberta
stood there, eyes wide with alarm. “That door stays shut.”
Clara
exhaled a shaky breath and let Roberta lead her down the hallway toward the rec
room.
“What
happened? What’s wrong with her?” Clara asked, shocked and shaking.
Roberta
glanced down at her watch, and then up at Clara. “You’ve been asleep for almost
three days. A lot has happened.” She stopped outside of Samantha’s room and glanced
at Clara. “Wait here for a moment.” Slowly, Roberta opened Samantha’s door,
poked her head inside, and then entered fully before closing the door behind
her.
Clara
peered around the rec room. Most of the lights were off, and except for Greta,
an orderly who was on the phone at the nurses’ station, no one was in there. A
pile of blankets were folded tidily on the couch as usual, but as far as Clara
could tell, everyone else was gone. In
She felt the roughness of terrycloth against her skin and the biting cold as
she was rushed out of the bathroom.
Words bounced
around in her mind, but her eyelids were too heavy to open, her mind too numb
to process.
“…bed…warm…sick…dead…careful…”
Teeth chattering
and body convulsing, Clara felt a soft pressure cover her, comforting her, and
something malleable cradled her head.
“Sleep,” was the
last thing she heard before her mind grayed and her thoughts were lost in
darkness.
6
A
crash and screaming woke Clara from a deep sleep. Her mind had been dormant,
warm and safe in the fissures of her consciousness. But the crashing sound…it
riled her awareness, and the cool air lapped at her exposed cheeks and her
nose.
Annoyed,
she sat up in bed. Her room was dark, and she glanced at the digital clock on
her nightstand. 7:46 PM. Her stomach gurgled with hunger, and her mouth was
stale and dry. How long had she been asleep?
Peering
around her tidied room, Clara was confused. She remembered piles of rags and the
stench of vomit. Now, her room was clean; the putrid smell was gone, and the
rags and vomit-filled garbage can were nowhere in sight. All that remained was
an empty wastebasket on the floor beside her bed, and a mountain of blankets
covering her.
She
remembered Roberta’s voice and the warmth of the shower. Clara shivered at the
memory. She’d been so cold, so tired. She’d thought she was dying.
A
clatter in the hallway startled her, and she threw the covers back and stepped
onto the cold floor. Removing a clean sweatshirt from the bottom drawer of her
dresser, Clara pulled it over her head before tugging on a clean pair of jeans.
Her
head was still hazy, and she rubbed her temple with one hand as she opened the
door to the hallway with the other. Maybe some food would help…
Stepping
out into the empty hallway, she peered down at the bedrooms to the right. All
the doors were closed. She peered to the left. The light of the television flickered
in the darkened rec room, sparking a feeling of unease.
Where
was everyone? Clara couldn’t hear chatter coming from the rec room, and it was
Sunday, so there shouldn’t have been any group sessions. At least, she thought
it was Sunday. Maybe everyone was in the cafeteria for dinner?
A
loud crash startled her. It was coming from inside Alicia’s room, directly
across from hers. Clara took a tentative step out into the hall. Another crash,
closely followed by a bone-chilling scream reverberated through Alicia’s door.
“Alicia?”
Clara rasped, her voice hoarse from disuse. Clearing her throat, she tried
again. “Alicia?”
But
there was no answer, only the sound of more crashing and screaming.
Hesitantly,
Clara reached for the handle. The door was locked.
BANG.
Clara jumped back, her hand clasping over her mouth as she tried to control her
breathing. BANG. The door rattled and the handle jiggled as what sounded like
snarls and growling emanated from the other side. BANG. BANG.
Fingers
wrapped around Clara’s upper arm, and she spun around with a shriek. Roberta
stood there, eyes wide with alarm. “That door stays shut.”
Clara
exhaled a shaky breath and let Roberta lead her down the hallway toward the rec
room.
“What
happened? What’s wrong with her?” Clara asked, shocked and shaking.
Roberta
glanced down at her watch, and then up at Clara. “You’ve been asleep for almost
three days. A lot has happened.” She stopped outside of Samantha’s room and glanced
at Clara. “Wait here for a moment.” Slowly, Roberta opened Samantha’s door,
poked her head inside, and then entered fully before closing the door behind
her.
Clara
peered around the rec room. Most of the lights were off, and except for Greta,
an orderly who was on the phone at the nurses’ station, no one was in there. A
pile of blankets were folded tidily on the couch as usual, but as far as Clara
could tell, everyone else was gone. In
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