Where is Ivy Rose?

Chapter 12

Taylor

A scream broke out and my eyes snapped wide open, the sound sending chills down my spine. I looked around me, frowning as a sheen of sweat trickled down my forehead and chest. My body was aching, skin flushed from the scorching heat of the suns rays as it streamed through the window. I was in a hotel room, the curtains were drawn wide open with pieces of clothing ripped and torn, leading a trail to the bed I was currently lying in. I frowned, lifting the covers to see that it was my nightgown that was torn.

Another scream erupted from the room, this time even louder, causing me to cover my ears. It echoed throughout the hotel room, bouncing off the walls. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the terrifying sound as it snuck up on me like a deadly snake. It was constant, sending a feeling of dread coursing throughout my body, I couldn't take this anymore.

I squeezed my eyes tighter, my hands pressing against my ears harder as I tried to block out the sound. A soft hand traced my face, suddenly grasping my jaw In a vice-like grip. I cried out in pain, trying to pry the hands from my jaw, only for my own hands to be thrown back and strapped to the bed.

'Open your eyes, open them!' I shook my head vigorously, whispering out a no as tears fell from my eyes and down my cheeks. The voice was harsh and uncaring as it gripped my jaw, ignoring my cries of pain. 'Open them, open!' the voice yelled again. A sob escapes my lips, my jaw starting to ache from the pressure that was applied there. I was trapped with no way to move or escape, it was no use, my attempts were useless.

With a reluctant nod, I opened my eyes, screaming as I was suddenly flung into the air. The floor was closing in, getting closer and closer as I fell. I waited for the impact to hit me, prepared for the pain the would batter my body, only to land safely in front of a long-standing mirror. Blood trickled down my legs as pain ripped through my stomach. I hunched over in pain, clutching my stomach, wincing as the stabbing pain continued. I was a mess, one big mess. My hair was frizzy, dull and lifeless, my lipstick smudged and my mascara dripping down my face in long black streaks.

My reflection in the mirror shimmered, washing away my ghastly appearance, replacing it with someone much younger, a girl who looked to be in her early twenties. Her outfit mimicked my own, her nightgown almost non-excistent as it exposed her bloody beaten body.

I reached my hand out to help her, banging my fist on the mirror till it cracked at the edges. She sobbed, shaking her head, telling me that it was no use, that she couldn't be saved. I grabbed the mirror, shaking it In my hands, trying to find a secret way in. Her broken cries were like a stabbing pain to the heart, raw, broken, real. I wanted to help her, but I didn't know-how.

A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, pulling her away from me, clasping a hand over her mouth to stop her screams. No! No! This can't be happening. I placed the mirror down and once more began to bang my fists against the surface.

The figure laughed as shards of glass bit into my skin, tearing my soft flesh. I winced, biting my bottom lip to hold back my cries as the stinging sensation tore my skin open. Blood trickled everywhere, creating an ocean of crimson warm liquid at my feet. My eyes widened in horror as bloody hands emerged, grabbing both my ankles. It dragged me down till I was waist-deep in the pitless pool of blood.

I screamed, flailing my arms in the air as I tried, but struggled to break free from its grasp. The shadowy figure continued to laugh, stepping closer into the light. I gasped, tears threatening to spill from my eyes once more as the face was revealed to me. No, it can't be.

'Dad? Dad?!'

'Mummy, mummy, wake up, your phones ringing.' I bolted upright, hand to my chest. My heart was erratic, banging against my ribcage. I blinked rapidly and looked at my hands and surroundings, sighing in relief. It was just a dream, one bad silly dream. With a soft relieved smile, I kissed my daughter's forehead, and gently took the phone from her, pressing it against my ear.

'Hello? Taylor Sharpe speaking.'

'Taylor? Taylor Sharpe?'

'Yes, this is Taylor Sharpe, may know who's.....'

'Look into Scarlett SinClaire.' I furrowed my eyebrows, confused at the sudden but strange request, but before I could ask why the call ended. SinClaire? That was my mum's maiden name. But who the hell was Scarlett? Was she a distant relative, my mum's cousin perhaps?

My mum walked into the living room, a dishtowel in her hand as she looked at me, her brows furrowed in concern. After finding out I was adopted, I rushed straight to her house, demanding answers. I had a right to know where I came from.

She held me that night as I cried, her arms holding me close. It reminded me of when I was a little, afraid that the boogeyman was out to get me. As much as I asked her, begged her for an answer, she didn't' give me any. I was told that I was still in a fragile state, that it would be best to wait till I got better.

That was over a week ago and she hasn't breathed a word about it since. I was beginning to feel frustrated, angry at the thought that she could be avoiding the conversation that needed to happen. I tried bringing it up again a few times, only to be shut down, her answer always 'It's too soon, it's not the right time.'

'Is everything okay sweetheart? I'm sorry Amelia woke you up! She got to your phone before I could and scurried off, you know how fast she is! She definitely takes after you! She gushed, frowning when I remained silent. I looked at her, my brain slightly still groggy from the dream and the mysterious phone call.

'Mum, who's Scarlett SinClaire?'

'Where did you hear that name?'

'That's not important, who is she? Do you know her?'

'Sweetheart, I don't think this is the right.....'

'No! Enough! I'm tired of hearing those words, first dad and now you, I deserve some answers so please cut the crap! WHO IS SCARLETT SINCLAIRE?!'

'She's my sister! Your....' She sobbed, grabbing my face with both hands as she kneeled before me. It pained me to see her cry, but I had the right to know, I was tired of all the small talk. 'She's your aunty.'

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As promised, chapter twelve! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Did you agree with Abigail lying to Taylor about who Scarlett really is? Why do you think she lied? Hope you can give me your opinions below. Please don't forget to vote! Stay safe everyone, hope you guys are looking forwards to tomorrows update which will be the last one this week for Where is Ivy Rose!