Secrets of the Weeping Willow (eBook)

Chapter 1

The rustic swing hung under the weeping willow tree, its wooden plank seat hard as it cut into the back of Elizabeth’s young legs while her hands gripped the coarse rope that hung from the branches far above her. Giddiness filled her as she watched beautiful, delicate butterflies dance among the rays of sunlight that broke through the long graceful tentacles that tenderly enveloped her, scattering the shadows of secrets long forgotten.

Happy, Elizabeth fell back while her legs propelled her forward through the warm, filtered rays of sunlight, bringing her higher and higher until she felt as if she was indeed floating among the leaves. Her hands released their grip on the rope as the swing seemed to evaporate into the summer breeze with her arms spread wide. A giggle full of carefree innocence filled the air as the delicate wings of the butterflies tickled her skin where they touched while she floated among them.

Not wanting to leave this imaginary fairytale, Elizabeth held her breath, trying to will the vision to last as long as it could, knowing it would end soon. It always did. It was always the same, starting so innocently and beautifully before the darkness and madness took over. This she knew as the air around her grew cold, sapping the warmth from the air and her soul, her heart now heavy with bitter sorrow. Her breath was painfully raw as she slowly opened her eyes to the darkening shadows that earlier had refused to be penetrated by the glorious light, but now crept forward to take back what the sunlight had taken. Elizabeth was left lost and full of hopeless confusion as her youthful innocence melted into the black mist that held so many secrets.

Her unconscious mind reached deep within the recesses of her brain to find that which her conscious self kept hidden from her. Fear became a painful vise around her heart as her sanity began slipping like water through her fingers, until she was unable to fight the inevitable. Tears clouded her eyes, then fell down her cheeks like raindrops onto a woman who stood beneath the weeping willow in a gown of pure white that flowed around her in a shimmer of ignorance.

A scream froze in Elizabeth’s throat while she willed herself to move so that she could break the trance in which found herself in. ”NO!” came the half-mad scream, loud within the silence of the vision as she broke free. Elizabeth knew she had seen it all before, knew that evil was just around the corner, lurking in the shadows. Sadness and desperation replaced the fear that had consumed her only a moment earlier. Her breath caught within her throat when beautiful green eyes, full of hopeless sadness, looked up, piercing her like a jagged knife. A sob escaped Elizabeth as she reached forward, afraid that the woman would vanish like a mist in the morning sun.

“No.” Elizabeth’s voice was a whisper of despair as the woman looked down and away before she dropped to her knees beneath the weeping willow.

The progression of the dream inevitable, the woman’s movements became frantic while she dug with her head dropped back, her scarlet lips moving, her breath a mist that filled the air with incoherent words that flowed around them in a thick fog. The fog started to swirl, lifting and carrying Elizabeth along until she found herself no longer beneath the weeping willow. Instead she was standing in a room of sunshine and blackness where blood, dark and as beautiful as a polished ruby, oozed up between the cracks of the hardwood floor seeping between her toes. Fascinated and horrified, Elizabeth found herself transfixed, unable to comprehend the slick warmth as it rose around her ankles, holding her in its warm grasp while a cool blackness started to settle down around her shoulders.

Sensing an evil presence Elizabeth attempted to step back into the light where she knew her sanity lay but panic consumed her as it held her like quicksand, refusing to release her from its cruel grasp. Madness once more on the fringe of her mind, a scream filled the air, the sound full of the raw pain and sorrow seeping through Elizabeth’s pores like a poison. It tore through her soul brutally as she fell away from the noise. Her body became light while it disappeared into the blackness.

Elizabeth Janson jerked awake, her breath a sharp gasp as she attempted to still her racing heart. Her eyes searched for something familiar to orient herself to the foreign furniture that surrounded her. Terrified by the dream, Elizabeth closed her eyes. Her breathe was shallow as she took it in, then she slowly released it once more in an attempt to calm her heart while she waited for her sanity to return. A realization settled over her that it had finally begun. It was as she had predicted, but now doubt was in the forefront her mind. She wondered if she truly was ready, as she had believed only a few days earlier.

Leaning back, Elizabeth rested her head on the headboard while her eyes skimmed the room in which she found herself before pausing on a set of French doors leading into a small sitting area just beyond the bed. Calmness gradually settled over her with the normality of the room in front of her.

“I can do this,” she thought apprehensively. The sound of a riverboat horn in the distance evaporated the thought from her head as a rush of adrenaline rushed through her veins. A scream formed a lump in her throat as she leaped forward. Her heart once again beat a violent rhythm in her chest as a whooshing sound drowned out the noise of the room. Her eyes looked frantically around the room, searching for the danger her unconscious mind held from her. A quiet serenity was the only danger that faced her; as a chuckle escaped her, which slowly became an uncontrollable fit of laughter at her overactive imagination.

Elizabeth sighed when she was finally able to calm her heart and laughter, realizing that Aurora, her good friend and traveling companion, would truly believe she had gone insane if she had walked in at this moment and seen her like this, crouched on the bed like an animal about to pounce, laughing uncontrollably from the sound of a riverboat horn.

She sat back so her back now rested against the high headboard. A hiccup escaped her while she looked across the room, her hands shaky as she reached up to wipe the tears from her cool cheeks, the dream flashing behind her eyes and her throat tightening with the memory of it. Lifting her knees, she hugged them to her chest, her face buried within the bony tips. The irony of the moment slowly sank in that it had been nine years to the day that she had been returned to her mother, bloodied and bruised with all her memories gone. She had been twelve then, but at times it felt like only yesterday when she was that scared little girl who had looked in the mirror wondering who she was while at the the same time, Rita, her eccentric mother, fed her bits of information about her childhood before her memory loss and then ironically encouraged her to forget those lost years. She had asked her mother once years ago: why? If her life had been so great before the abduction then why wouldn’t her mother want her to remember? Her mother had explained to her that she was afraid-afraid that with the happy memories would also come the bad.

Elizabeth shook her head to clear it from the cluster of insecurities her mother always laid on her whenever she attempted to remember her past. Her mother never understood that she was willing to take the risk to get back a part of herself that was lost. With that thought in mind, she finally allowed the dream to seep back into her consciousness with a deep-seated feeling that the nightmare held the secret to her past and lost memories. Her breath was a flutter in her throat, and strange images filtered through her mind as Elizabeth struggled to place the pieces together. She felt scared but hopeful, knowing this was what she had hoped for when she had secretly started to plan this trip after seeing a television documentary on the city of New Orleans.

Now that day seemed so long ago, when she had sat in her mother’s living room and watched in disbelief while images of New Orleans flashed across the screen, filling her with a sense of déjà vu. She could still remember how her heartbeat had become a throbbing in her head while she watched in unbelievable suspense a place she knew on a level deep within. The memories had scratched at her consciousness that day pleading to be released. But unfortunately as quickly as hope had filled her, frustration had quickly followed when she found her mind still unable to give her what she desired as the memories sat on the fringe of her conscious thoughts. The harder she attempted to recall those lost years, the more they pushed away from her consciousness.

She had cried in frustration that night, the first time in a long time, overwhelmed by the sadness of her lost memories. But when she dried her eyes, she remembered reading an article once about lost memories and the truth behind amnesia. The article had mentioned that forgotten memories can sometimes be recovered by a sight, sound or even a familiar smell of that particular memory. Then, strangely, as if a voice had whispered in her ear telling her she could get back what she had lost. She just needed to go to the source which she now believed was New Orleans, she formulated a plan that night, a desperate plan, to retrieve her lost memories at all cost.

Now with the return of the dream she knew that she had truly found her source. This strangely familiar place felt like a confused homecoming to her with its foreign familiar sounds and foreign familiar...