Delilah crawling on her hands and knees away from the small pond that my father used to fish in. Terror was written all over her face.
“Delilah!”
Her eyes widened and that’s when I realized. She wasn’t just getting away from whatever had frightened her—she was getting away from me.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Please!”
She stopped and countless times looked between me and the water. No one had been to this place to fish in a while, but I couldn’t imagine anything that would scare her to this degree.
I approached her as slowly as I was able to. Step by step she lost her heaving breaths and the fear trickled out of her eyes.
“Can I…”
She didn’t let me finish, choosing instead to vault herself up from her sitting position and nearly tackled me. For a tiny thing, she hung on for dear life.
I was useless against her cries.
Chapter Nine
Delilah
There was no way in Hades that I’d imagined it, yet as I recalled the event that froze my heart and sent the terror of murder through my veins, the vision refused to be disputed.
I’d seen the girl—in the water.
Her white dress remained and she’d stayed the age of the plump toddler, sweet-faced, with rounded cheeks and baby knuckles.
Until the vision was no longer a vision.
Toddler transformed into woman, reaching out from the depths with arms as cold and clammy as a dead fish. She reached for my throat. And murder lay in her eyes.
Her battle cry still blasted in my ears.
Hands were felt on my neck as real as Porter’s as he attempted to contain my shudders.
I’d gone over to the pond just to rinse my hands of the dust that clung to my palms. Never did I image what awaited me beneath the truth of the surface.
No, no, I was wrong.
I began to excuse the floating image at once recalling my shot nerves from the morning’s drama.
That must’ve been it.
My imagination had gotten away from me, fueled by the haunting books from the time spent reading the day before.
It was all a ruse of my wild mind.
“What happened?”
“I—I thought I saw something. I’m just overtired and hungry.”
That was the general excuse for everything in this place—I knew it would go over.
“Are you sure? Come, let’s get away from the water.”
Porter was about as happy as me to still be in visual distance of the pond. We walked back to the cabin, me still under the protection of his arm, though it did nothing to lessen my quaking.
“We are going to go home and you are going to eat and get some rest. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Words carried on the wind as he rushed me home. I felt like an incapable twit, being carried home and fed and rested. I’d gone from being everyone’s unpaid servant to being tip-toed around like a pampered princess.
I didn’t like it one bit.
It wasn’t so bad, though.
It was nice to be looked after.
I rolled my eyes at my constant internal arguing. Any girl would give a hand or even an organ to be treated half as well as Porter was treating me.
Yet, I complained.
The cypress trees’ limbs were lower near his home. Their leaves bowed in sadness. Even the grass bowed down to the side a little, the surrounding doom too much for them to bear.
We got to the house and the twit was handed off to Eliza while Porter made his excuses of getting Benjamin back to the stalls.
“I’m fine.” I thrust myself out of Eliza’s hold and forwent the former suggestion that I eat and sit in front of the fire like a kept woman. The stairs were taken two at a time while I made my way to the bedroom and shut the door behind me. I needed a bath and some time alone. I was sure that a few minutes of normalcy would cure me—and being by myself was as normal as it got for me.
I turned on the water, as hot as I could take it, and stared down into the clear abyss, daring the vision to show itself. Of course it didn’t. It was a farce, after all.
My clothes hit the floor just seconds before my toe dipped into the water,
“Delilah!”
Her eyes widened and that’s when I realized. She wasn’t just getting away from whatever had frightened her—she was getting away from me.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Please!”
She stopped and countless times looked between me and the water. No one had been to this place to fish in a while, but I couldn’t imagine anything that would scare her to this degree.
I approached her as slowly as I was able to. Step by step she lost her heaving breaths and the fear trickled out of her eyes.
“Can I…”
She didn’t let me finish, choosing instead to vault herself up from her sitting position and nearly tackled me. For a tiny thing, she hung on for dear life.
I was useless against her cries.
Chapter Nine
Delilah
There was no way in Hades that I’d imagined it, yet as I recalled the event that froze my heart and sent the terror of murder through my veins, the vision refused to be disputed.
I’d seen the girl—in the water.
Her white dress remained and she’d stayed the age of the plump toddler, sweet-faced, with rounded cheeks and baby knuckles.
Until the vision was no longer a vision.
Toddler transformed into woman, reaching out from the depths with arms as cold and clammy as a dead fish. She reached for my throat. And murder lay in her eyes.
Her battle cry still blasted in my ears.
Hands were felt on my neck as real as Porter’s as he attempted to contain my shudders.
I’d gone over to the pond just to rinse my hands of the dust that clung to my palms. Never did I image what awaited me beneath the truth of the surface.
No, no, I was wrong.
I began to excuse the floating image at once recalling my shot nerves from the morning’s drama.
That must’ve been it.
My imagination had gotten away from me, fueled by the haunting books from the time spent reading the day before.
It was all a ruse of my wild mind.
“What happened?”
“I—I thought I saw something. I’m just overtired and hungry.”
That was the general excuse for everything in this place—I knew it would go over.
“Are you sure? Come, let’s get away from the water.”
Porter was about as happy as me to still be in visual distance of the pond. We walked back to the cabin, me still under the protection of his arm, though it did nothing to lessen my quaking.
“We are going to go home and you are going to eat and get some rest. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Words carried on the wind as he rushed me home. I felt like an incapable twit, being carried home and fed and rested. I’d gone from being everyone’s unpaid servant to being tip-toed around like a pampered princess.
I didn’t like it one bit.
It wasn’t so bad, though.
It was nice to be looked after.
I rolled my eyes at my constant internal arguing. Any girl would give a hand or even an organ to be treated half as well as Porter was treating me.
Yet, I complained.
The cypress trees’ limbs were lower near his home. Their leaves bowed in sadness. Even the grass bowed down to the side a little, the surrounding doom too much for them to bear.
We got to the house and the twit was handed off to Eliza while Porter made his excuses of getting Benjamin back to the stalls.
“I’m fine.” I thrust myself out of Eliza’s hold and forwent the former suggestion that I eat and sit in front of the fire like a kept woman. The stairs were taken two at a time while I made my way to the bedroom and shut the door behind me. I needed a bath and some time alone. I was sure that a few minutes of normalcy would cure me—and being by myself was as normal as it got for me.
I turned on the water, as hot as I could take it, and stared down into the clear abyss, daring the vision to show itself. Of course it didn’t. It was a farce, after all.
My clothes hit the floor just seconds before my toe dipped into the water,
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