Forgotten (a Steemit Original Novel) - Chapter 3
I am an aspiring author for the sci-fi/fantasy genre and am looking to probably self-publish someday soon.. I heard Steemit was a good place to put myself out there and thought I would give it a go, and it looks like that is paying off! Forgotten is the first book in my first trilogy about a woman who remembers a life she never had and has forgotten everything about her real life.
Header image is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution license, and is from here
If you need to get caught up, see here:
Forgotten (Rose of Petrichoria Book 1) - Chapter 3
The next morning, Harmony didn’t wake me up again. I looked at the clock and it read 11:00.
What in the world is up with this child?
I wasn’t really upset. It had been a very long couple days and we both obviously needed the rest. I got up and involuntarily stretched my whole body. My whole body felt stiff and awkward as I made my way across the hall to check on Harmony.
When I opened the door, I was shocked at the sight. Although Harmony still lay asleep in her bed, her room was trashed. The drawers and closet were opened and clothes, books, and toys littered her floor. However, Harmony was just lying there in exactly the same position she was when I tucked her in last night. There was no sign of entry at all. I walked across the room and checked the window, which was still locked and not broken.
Then, I rushed over to Harmony and startled her awake. “Harmony!”
“Mommy?” Harmony looked around her room with big eyes, clearly as surprised to see it the way it was as I was. Someone had come into my daughter’s room and I was furious. For what reason they went only into Harmony’s room, I didn’t know. Telling Harmony to stay where she was, I went to my room, opened my gun safe, grabbed the gun out of it and searched the rest of the house room by room and corner to corner for an intruder. Satisfied after a thorough search, I went back to my room and put my gun away.
I went to Harmony’s room to look in and was even more shocked than before; the room was pristine. It looked as if nothing had happened in there and Harmony was no longer in there. I walked down the hall and saw my little one sitting in the dining room.
“How did you clean your room so fast?” I asked.
Harmony just shrugged and said, “I was bored, so I put all my toys away and put the clothes in the laundry basket.”
It still seemed like the room was cleaned awfully fast to me. My search of the house couldn’t have taken longer than ten minutes.
“Why didn’t you stay in your room like I asked you?”
“I saw you go to your room and thought it was okay.”
“Okay,” I drawled warily with an eyebrow raised. “Sit right here. I need to go talk to the police officer sitting out front.”
Trying to maintain my composure, I walked out the front door, locking it behind me. With as much dignity as possible, I approached the police car parked in front of my house. Inside, I found a sleeping police officer. I could see his short dark brown hair beneath his uniform hat that had fallen slightly over his eyes. So as to not surprise him too much – I didn’t want to get shot or something – I knocked gently on the window of the car. The officer shook his head to become conscious and turned red with embarrassment when he rolled the window down.
“Ma’am,” he greeted.
“Is it normal for you to fall asleep while guarding a house?” I asked sarcastically.
“No, Ma’am. I’m awfully sorry.”
“While you were sleeping, someone broke into my child’s room and tore it apart.”
His face sunk and blue eyes widened at the news.
“Unfortunately, while I was searching the rest of the house, she cleaned up the crime scene, so there is no evidence of your incompetence. I promise you, though, I will be personally going in to the precinct to put in a formal complaint today.”
“I’m glad you’re safe, Ma’am. Again, I’m very sorry for falling asleep. There is no good excuse for it.”
“No, there isn’t. You can go now. You’re obviously not up to the task of keeping my daughter and me safe.”
Without saying a word, the officer rolled his window up, started up his car, and drove off. I turned back to the house and went inside. Harmony was in the dining room, but had gone back to her room to change into day clothes. It was then that I realized I was still in my pajamas. I shrugged it off. It didn’t really matter to me what a sleepy police officer thought of me.
“Why did you leave the dining room when I asked you to stay here?” I asked.
“I thought you’d be happy that I got myself all dressed.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I said, “I really need you to work on listening better. When I tell you to do something, there is a reason for it. We’re going to take a trip to the police station today, Harmony, so we’re going to eat really quickly, I’m going to get dressed, and then we’ll go.”
“Okay, Mommy,” Harmony yawned.
Wanting to get going quickly, I threw together a quick lunch, since we slept through breakfast, of chicken nuggets and broccoli covered in cheese. Harmony poked her food with her fork.
“What’s the matter, honey?” I asked.
“I don’t really like chicken,” she said.
“Since when?” I scoffed. “You’ve been having chicken nuggets since you could start having solid foods.”
Harmony just shrugged. Assuming that she must be entering a new phase of civil disobedience, I just finished up my lunch. I got up and brought my dish to the sink. I was just about to give her one more chance to eat her food when I saw that Harmony had eaten everything.
Taken aback, I said, “I thought you didn’t like chicken.”
Harmony giggled, “Silly Mommy! Chicken is my favorite!”
Something was definitely not right. I pressed my lips together, then said, “I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but you can talk to me about whatever you’re feeling. You don’t have to lie or mess around.” I sounded harsher than I intended.
Harmony looked genuinely confused and said, “I’m not lying, Mommy. I love chicken.” She looked like she was going to cry.
After a long pause, I said, “Okay. You can just talk to me when you’re ready. I’m going to go get into my jeans and a t-shirt and we’ll drive to the police station.”
Harmony’s expression suddenly went from sad to amused as she said, “Mommy, you already have your jeans and t-shirt on.”
Sure enough, when I looked down at myself, I was fully clothed in my jeans and white t-shirt; I had my pink high-tops on; my hair was in a ponytail; I put my fingers to my lips and pink lipstick transferred to my fingers. My eyes widened.
Am I going crazy? No. I heard once that if you question whether or not you’re crazy, you’re probably not. But was that true or just something I heard on some TV show? How am I dressed right now?
I barraged myself with questions to which I had no answer.
I did a quick head roll to pull myself together and began to rationalize everything to myself.
This is no big deal. I saw Doctor Smith yesterday and he said it was stress. I’m dealing with tons of stress: the anniversary of David and Tom’s death, the calls, the odd things Harmony has been doing, the threats. Now I find out the police officer who was supposed to be guarding my home last night fell asleep doing it. Yeah. Stress. That explains it.
Even to myself, I wasn’t convincing. I laughed a little with Harmony about it and we went out the door. When I turned and locked the door, Harmony took off skipping.
“Harmony! Get back here!” I called and took off after her just as she rounded the corner. When I caught up, Harmony was standing in front of the neighborhood playground with pleading eyes.
“Harmony. You cannot take off like that! You terrified me!” I scolded.
“Can I please play for a while on the playground? Please, please, pleeeeeeease?” Harmony begged.
With a sigh, I replied “Okay. But only for a few minutes. We need to get going.”
Harmony squealed with glee, opened the gate to the playground, and ran in. I gradually made my way to the playground and closed the gate behind me. There were two reasons I was alright with letting Harmony play a while. First, it gave me time to cool down and clear my head before heading down to the police station. Second, it had been a crazy last couple days and Harmony deserved a little time to run and play. Harmony had essentially been stuck in the car for two days straight.
I sat on the bench and thought about how it had been a part of every stage of David and my lives. Ever since we married and bought the house around the corner, we had been coming to this bench. Tom was so cute as a little toddler in the baby swing and after we had Harmony, Tom played so well with her. He had pushed her in the same swing she was now in and helped her climb and go down the slide. When Harmony was scared to do the merry-go-round, he had started spinning it slowly and worked it faster over several days. He was such a good big brother.
David and I would sit and watch the kids play when he came home from work. After a long day of work, it was nice for him to sit and decompress that way. One time, David told me that sitting on the bench watching the children play was his favorite part of his day because it was a good reminder of what was truly important in his life.
As Harmony sat on the big-girl swing, I remembered Tom trying to teach her even though she was too young to really understand. He eventually gave up and just pushed her himself. Now here she was swinging all by herself; she was so cute how she whooped every time the swing started zooming forward and giggled when it went back.
While I watched, I noticed that there was a tall man in a black suit on the other side of the playground watching as well.
How long has he been there? I don’t remember him being here when we arrived.
I had never seen him in the neighborhood before. Then, I realized he wasn’t watching Harmony; he was watching me. We made eye contact and he gave me a knowing smile.
We’re going to take you out today.
I remembered the latest threat.
Could this be him?
Terrified, but trying not to show it, I approached Harmony, who was at the top of the slide, and said, “Okay, honey. It’s time to go now.”
“Aw! Just a few minutes more?” Harmony pleaded.
“No, honey, we need to go. Now.”
Harmony slid down and held my hand. I tried to nonchalantly leave the playground.
Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I’ll bet those college kids who’ve been prank calling me are just trying to scare me because they think it’s funny.
When we got to the sidewalk, I noticed the man was following us. I turned to look ahead and the corner turning to my house seemed much further away than it should be. Picking up the pace, I walked toward the far-away corner; the man picked up his pace as well. I went faster, almost to a jog.
“Mommy! You’re going too fast!” Harmony complained.
We didn’t seem to be getting any closer to the corner no matter how fast we went.
I need to get to the car.
Turning around, I saw the man was almost caught up with us. I scooped up Harmony into my arms and began running. I glanced to the side and saw that I was passing the same house over and over again. On the other side of the street I saw the same trees passing over and over again. I looked ahead and could no longer see the corner. Just a straight line of sidewalk.
Up ahead, I finally saw change in my path, but it was not into a neighborhood; there was no corner that would take me to my house. What I saw was a white hallway. I quickly changed direction and ran toward the house we kept passing.
This isn’t possible. That’s my house. But – I never turned and my car is gone!
There was no time to try to figure it out; the man was gaining on me.
Without thinking, I slammed the door open and closed and locked it. As I set Harmony down, I realized that I had locked the door when I left. I brought my hands to my face and slid them down.
What is going on here? I’ve completely lost it. That has to be it. Maybe he drugged me somehow in the last week.
I rushed down the hall to my gun safe and pulled the gun out.
“Mommy? Are you okay?” Harmony asked, following me into my room.
“Everything is going to be fine. I’m going to lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone except me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mommy,” she responded.
At that moment, Harmony’s face went blank and she started staring forward. I had to leave to protect us, but as I left the room, Harmony still stood in the middle of it. Reluctantly, I quietly left my little girl standing like that and locked my bedroom door.
I made my way to the front door and looked through the peep hole; he wasn’t there. I exhaled loudly then realized the door was no longer locked.
How did he get in? He’s in the house. Where is he?
There was no spare key for him to find; I didn’t hear him trying to break in; the door hadn’t been kicked in. At that point, though, it was unimportant how he got in. The important thing was that he was in and I was the only one to protect my daughter and myself.
I slowly started making my way through the house. Completely paranoid, when I went to the kitchen, I not only opened the pantry, but every cupboard in the room. Stranger things had happened that day, I wouldn’t put it past him to be able to hide in one. Over in the living room, I looked behind the television, couches, and chairs.
So far, so good.
The linen closet in the hall was empty as well. I made my way to Harmony’s room. When I opened the door, I couldn’t believe what I saw; the room was a disaster again.
That’s impossible. Harmony has been with me the whole time.
Gingerly, I stepped through the toys and clothes and began checking her closet and even the drawers.
Under the bed. He has to be under the bed. It’s the only place in the house I haven’t checked that he could possibly be.
As quietly as possible, I made my way to the bed and lowered myself to the floor. I felt like I was starring in a horror movie and everyone in the audience was screaming at me not to look under the bed. Hands shaking, I paused to regain my composure; they had to be steady if I ended up having to use the gun. Taking a deep breath, I lifted the blanket and looked under the bed.
He’s not here! Why would he unlock the front door, but not come in?
Then, a horrifying thought occurred to me.
If he can unlock the front door, he can get into my bedroom!
I jumped up and raced across the hall to my room, which now had an open door. Harmony was still in the middle of the room; not moving with a blank stare. The only difference between when I had left her and now was that now she was wearing a white flowy dress. The man was on one knee in front of Harmony, looking into her eyes.
I cocked my gun and pointed it at the intruder, “Get away from my daughter.”
As the man stood up, he raised his hands in the air, but said nothing. He had a smug look on his face.
“How dare you change her clothes?! Who do you think you are?”
No response.
“You talk to me! I’m sick of your harassment and threats! What kind of drug have you given me and how did you do it?”
The man smiled with what appeared to be pity. However, he still said nothing.
“I deserve to know! Who are you working for and why are you trying to kill my daughter and me?”
To this, the man tilted his head back and began to laugh. It wasn’t a maniacal or cruel laugh, but almost mirthful; as if I had just told a hilarious joke.
“Stop laughing! There is nothing funny here. I will shoot this gun if you try anything and I’m growing tired of your arrogance!”
The man put his hands down and slowly began walking toward me. I glanced at Harmony, who remained as still as a statue. Looking back at the man, I saw that he was only a couple feet away. He put his hand in the breast pocket of his suit.
Up to that point in my life, I had never had to use my gun in defense before. In fact, I hadn’t even been to a range since David and Tom had died. Could I live with taking a life? If it meant saving Harmony, I would have to.
I closed my eyes and squeezed the trigger.