Read Online Unquiet Dreams by K. A. Laity - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: K. A. Laity
Tags: Horror, Speculative Fiction
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to make sense. And there were more than three voices anyway, she was pretty sure.
"We have seen how you have struggled with a cheerful goodwill to carry your heavy burdens, and we have come to release you from them." Cheerful goodwillâthat was how Emma always thought of herself, carrying on with cheerful goodwill despite all her trials. Release! But how? Mother had to be cared for and the only work she could get was in-home envelope-stuffing and there was never enough money toâthe lottery! Was she going to win the lottery?!
"No, Emma, it is not that simple. You need to make more permanent solutions; we will have some work for you and when it is done, your troubles will be solved." They read her mind! Emma was overjoyed and barked with delighted laughter. The young woman with the child glanced sharply at Emma, trying to hurry by without appearing to do so.
"She and the child will die in two years time in an accident with a drunk driver." Emma looked alarmed but the woman was already turning the corner to the next aisle. "You cannot do anything about that. Forget your shopping now, and go home. There is much to be done."
Emma abandoned her cart and lurched heavily down the aisle, her mind whirring with excitement that felt like a red mist inside her skull. Randomly the voices would relate tidbits concerning passers-by: "He is wearing his wife's underwear" or "She has stolen those shoes" or "He will live to be ninety-five and never once be happy." It was almost too much; she felt numb. As the automatic doors swung open to disgorge her from the unnatural cool of the store into the stifling heat of mid-morning, Emma realized just how bizarre her day was becoming. It was about to get even more so, quite dangerously so.
At the side door to the little house, Emma puffed from the hectic pace and sweated liberally while she fumbled for her latchkey. The house was marginally cooler because she'd kept the shades drawn. Pulling one of the kitchen chairs out from under the table, Emma sank gratefully onto its squeaking vinyl.
"Where're my Ho Hos?" her mother groused sleepily from the bedroom. Emma sighed and shook out the hanky from the pocket of her dress. Delicately she dabbed the droplets from her face. Her mother's voice came again, insistent. "Emma! Emma! Where're my Ho Hos?"
"First, we have to take care of Mother." Emma sighed and nodded. It would always be the way. "No, not for much longer, Emma." She tried to stifle the hope those words gave her. "It's all right, Emma, feel no shame. We will release you from your burdens."
Emma padded down the hall with a gentle smile on her face, her patience restored. She stopped in her mother's doorway and clapped twice. The light over her bed snapped on. "Where are my HO HOs!" her mother demanded.
Emma searched vaguely for an excuse. "They were all out."
"No Ho Hos? But I wantâ"
"Put your hanky in her mouth," said the voices calmly. Emma obeyed, balling up the cloth and sticking between her mother's still-flapping lips. The old woman's eyes bulged with alarm but she was finally silenced. Emma couldn't help but grin; how long had she wanted to do that? Not that she'd ever admit it, but oh boy, did I feel good! Her mother made no attempt to remove the gag.
"Mother needs to be rescued. Her soul is in peril. She needs to join us in heaven. You have to help us Emma, be our hands here on earth."
"Yes, I will."
"Good. Get your father's silver straight razor."
Emma blanched. She hated sharp, pointy things. Always cutting herself, she had little trust her in clumsy fingers.
"We will guide your hands, Emma. Have faith and you will be rewarded." She obeyed. At once she was in the bathroom, pulling open the bottom drawer of the vanity and reaching for the green velour case. Soft, so soft, it unrolled in her hands and the razor slid eagerly out into her palm. It almost seemed to smile at her. Emma was surprised she had never realized what a beautiful piece of work it was, clean
"We have seen how you have struggled with a cheerful goodwill to carry your heavy burdens, and we have come to release you from them." Cheerful goodwillâthat was how Emma always thought of herself, carrying on with cheerful goodwill despite all her trials. Release! But how? Mother had to be cared for and the only work she could get was in-home envelope-stuffing and there was never enough money toâthe lottery! Was she going to win the lottery?!
"No, Emma, it is not that simple. You need to make more permanent solutions; we will have some work for you and when it is done, your troubles will be solved." They read her mind! Emma was overjoyed and barked with delighted laughter. The young woman with the child glanced sharply at Emma, trying to hurry by without appearing to do so.
"She and the child will die in two years time in an accident with a drunk driver." Emma looked alarmed but the woman was already turning the corner to the next aisle. "You cannot do anything about that. Forget your shopping now, and go home. There is much to be done."
Emma abandoned her cart and lurched heavily down the aisle, her mind whirring with excitement that felt like a red mist inside her skull. Randomly the voices would relate tidbits concerning passers-by: "He is wearing his wife's underwear" or "She has stolen those shoes" or "He will live to be ninety-five and never once be happy." It was almost too much; she felt numb. As the automatic doors swung open to disgorge her from the unnatural cool of the store into the stifling heat of mid-morning, Emma realized just how bizarre her day was becoming. It was about to get even more so, quite dangerously so.
At the side door to the little house, Emma puffed from the hectic pace and sweated liberally while she fumbled for her latchkey. The house was marginally cooler because she'd kept the shades drawn. Pulling one of the kitchen chairs out from under the table, Emma sank gratefully onto its squeaking vinyl.
"Where're my Ho Hos?" her mother groused sleepily from the bedroom. Emma sighed and shook out the hanky from the pocket of her dress. Delicately she dabbed the droplets from her face. Her mother's voice came again, insistent. "Emma! Emma! Where're my Ho Hos?"
"First, we have to take care of Mother." Emma sighed and nodded. It would always be the way. "No, not for much longer, Emma." She tried to stifle the hope those words gave her. "It's all right, Emma, feel no shame. We will release you from your burdens."
Emma padded down the hall with a gentle smile on her face, her patience restored. She stopped in her mother's doorway and clapped twice. The light over her bed snapped on. "Where are my HO HOs!" her mother demanded.
Emma searched vaguely for an excuse. "They were all out."
"No Ho Hos? But I wantâ"
"Put your hanky in her mouth," said the voices calmly. Emma obeyed, balling up the cloth and sticking between her mother's still-flapping lips. The old woman's eyes bulged with alarm but she was finally silenced. Emma couldn't help but grin; how long had she wanted to do that? Not that she'd ever admit it, but oh boy, did I feel good! Her mother made no attempt to remove the gag.
"Mother needs to be rescued. Her soul is in peril. She needs to join us in heaven. You have to help us Emma, be our hands here on earth."
"Yes, I will."
"Good. Get your father's silver straight razor."
Emma blanched. She hated sharp, pointy things. Always cutting herself, she had little trust her in clumsy fingers.
"We will guide your hands, Emma. Have faith and you will be rewarded." She obeyed. At once she was in the bathroom, pulling open the bottom drawer of the vanity and reaching for the green velour case. Soft, so soft, it unrolled in her hands and the razor slid eagerly out into her palm. It almost seemed to smile at her. Emma was surprised she had never realized what a beautiful piece of work it was, clean
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