Watched (ONC 2021)

Chapter 8 - The Town Meeting

Photo credit: Nathan Dumlao from Unsplash

***

The rooms at the Nid de Corbeau embraced the sombre theme that came with their name. Little light trickled through the small, grungy windows. The dark walls and bedspreads swallowed the dim illumination from the faux candelabra wall fixtures. I had been trying to rest since Mike stepped out for my prescriptions, but Milo's restless pacing was rubbing off on my mind.

I picked up Mrs. Crawford's recipe book and leafed through it in hopes there'd be a stray page confirming what I had read at her house. Each one showed what I already suspected. I was slowly losing my sanity, just like my mother had.

Mental illness can be hereditary. The doctor's voice was as vivid as it had been twenty-five years ago as he spoke in a low tone to my father. I'd asked my aunt what 'hereditary' meant when we got home from an appointment after my mother had passed. From that day, with my father's help, I'd done everything in my power to stay physically fit and eat right to avoid slipping into inheriting what had afflicted her. In the end, it didn't seem to matter.

Unless today's occurrences were real.

I shook my head. Paranormal or demonic entities couldn't live inside a doctor's body, nor were people hiding in the forest and whispering to me. If that was true, it meant the body was real, and that someone had butchered another person outside our home. That couldn't be true. They would come for us next. It had to be my mind playing tricks.

The dim lights flickered, and a long thin shadow grew on the wall.

Your father wasn't always right, Winnie. Not everyone has the gift of sight like us.

Her voice had a melodic tone, like a beautiful songbird. Although I longed to tune it out and return to the real world, her voice was soothing my racing mind.

How, Mama? How can any of this be real?

If you truly listen, you will understand.

Listen to what?

The lights flickered again, and the shadow vanished. I sighed. What good was listening if the clues I sought were in a book? Did she want me to search my house? It would be crawling with cops, like Mrs. Crawford's home.

Our blue SUV pulled up in front of the motel window. After the headlights dimmed, Mike hopped out and opened the trunk. He was there for a while before he approached with a plastic shopping bag, which was odd because he always kept reusable ones in the vehicle and got on my case if I forgot to use them.

As he approached, I stood to unlock and open the door for him. He jerked back, avoiding my gaze for a second.

"Winston, I thought you'd be sleeping. You should be resting."

"Plenty of time to rest tonight. What's with the bag?"

Mike pulled out a pair of black track pants and handed them to me. "I didn't want to go home, so I bought these." I looked at the gauze poking out from the hole in mine.

"Thanks."

"The meeting starts in twenty minutes if you're still feeling up to it. Don't feel you have to attend. They'll understand after the trauma you endured today."

"After discovering Mrs. Crawford and the statue, I need to find out what's happening."

He set the prescription bag on the nightstand as I headed into the bathroom to change.

***

The police were hosting the town meeting in the high school gymnasium. More people than we saw on basketball game nights stood, sat, and mingled near the plastic folding chairs. Retired couples whispering amongst their social groups, parents soothing and chasing children too young to leave at home, and those without kids looked around the room with narrowed eyes. I hoped that I was imagining several stares following us as we crossed the gym.