Chapter 76: Cecile VII

These Nightmares

Chapter 76: Cecile VII— These Nightmares

Everyone went to bed late so that it was almost midnight when the children were finally corralled and sent to their bedrooms. Cecile almost felt like she needed a lasso and a horse as she helped Michele chase down Freddy who was chasing down Jana who was chasing Gigi. Both of the little ones were hopelessly wired after watching that absolutely insane and ludicrous game. First their father threw an embarrassing and childish tantrum on the ice, then that poor goalie was injured God knows how bad and then poor Rob Blake had contorted on the ice in an inane frenzy just to appease the powers that be. Why wouldn’t the little ones be hyper after watching that? Add to that fact, Michele had been so engrossed in the game she didn’t seem to notice that Jana had ripped open a bag of chocolate malt balls and she consumed them with her brother.

Jonathen didn’t seem so energized though when Michele had brought him home after realizing in horror that she had forgotten all about him because of that game. He trotted in the front door a pale, almost ethereal glow on his face. Cecile had actually gasped and held her hand to the emerald cross at her breast when she saw him. He looked beautiful and angelic. He looked angel-kissed.

"Jonathen!" Jana had squealed tearing down the stairs in her pink nightie and flinging her arms around his waist. "Did you see it?"

"Yup," Jonathen said wistfully with a slow nod of his head. "Here."

Jana squealed in delight and snatched the fluffy, pink kitten stuffed animal he was holding to her. Before Michele could swat at her the little girl was gone and up the stairs, thundering on little feet to her bedroom.

"Go on to bed," Michele whispered to Jonathen, kissing him on the cheek and swatting his bottom to get him moving up the stairs. Cecile watched his stumbled little trot as he went up the stairs and then she looked at Michele who had a slightly sad expression on her face. It touched Cecile in a way she didn’t want to be. She was looking at Michele and the woman was without trappings and flirtations as she stood there. She wasn’t putting on a show for the world, and she actually looked like a warm, full-blooded mother. Michele sighed and placed her hand across her tummy. "He is in love," she said and Cecile wasn’t sure if Michele was speaking to her or not. Then Michele turned around and looked at her, a clean smile on her mouth. "He is too young but he feels it. He is in love... the little brat."

Cecile nodded, she wasn’t too sure what to say. "You think?" she finally said.

Michele’s eyelids fluttered and she smiled a broader smile, and there was that familiar catlike gleam returned to her eyes. "Did you not see him my dear?" she said. "The boy did not even realize that he had been waiting outside of that ice arena two hours longer than he should have. He just stood there, glowing, like an angel. Whoever this girl is... she’s in for trouble." Michele winked playfully as she said those last words and Cecile felt her cheeks suddenly flush. Now that lewd glint had returned to Michele’s eyes and Cecile felt a little scared.

"Well, that said," Michele sighed, shaking off her previous mood as if she were a cat shaking water from its paws. "Thank you very much for helping me get the babies in bed, I should have noticed what they were eating... silly, so silly..."

Cecile swallowed and nodded. "Oh no problem," she said.

Michele made a small noise coming from the back of her throat, like a coquettish little squeak and Cecile began to feel extremely nervous. Somehow, she had an odd feeling, like the feeling one gets when someone undesirable is trying to flirt with one.

"What are you gripping in your hand so tightly?" Michele asked, narrowing her eyes some. "Your knuckles have gone white."

Cecile then realized the sharp pain in her palm, she was still gripping onto her cross. "Just... it’s nothing..." she said. And she couldn’t let it go.

Michele closed one eye her smile becoming something like a smirk as she walked towards Cecile. "Let me see," she said.

Beside herself, Cecile backed away from her and stumbled over a footstool, falling on the other side of it. Michele was by her side almost instantly, her thin, yet strong hands gripping onto Cecile and helping her stand up.

"Ah Sacre Coeur!" Michele exclaimed in a high voice. "Are you alright?"

Cecile nodded weakly. "Yeah," she murmured.

"It’s a crucifix," Michele said quietly almost in her ear. "How lovely, is it real?"

"Yes," Cecile said as Michele peered at it. "It’s emeralds and silver... my mom gave it to me." She held it up closer to Michele’s face.

Michele stood up straight, her eyelids fluttering again as she yawned. "How lovely," she said. "Things like that are so precious."

As Michele walked away stretching and talking to herself in French, Cecile rubbed her upper arm where Michele had gripped her. From mother to something frightening in such a short amount of time. For the evening as she had sat on the couch with her, watching that game, there had been none of the animosity that she had expected to feel. There had only been a tiny; slightly careworn faced woman, throwing popcorn at the television screen, swatting at her noisy children and finally squeezing Cecile into a warm, vibrant, beautifully scented hug when the final goal had been scored.

She had saved her life. Cecile was determined to think of the woman hugging her and not of the woman she had backed away from, feeling some sort of innate, subconscious terror. Who knows what that man had wanted to do, and Michele had no second thoughts about driving her foot into him and driving him away. Cecile needed to be grateful for that.

She could hear Michele humming something as she trailed up the stairs and Cecile looked at her cross again. "Grateful... but should I trust her?" she murmured to herself.

Her breathing had stopped and she could feel her lungs collapsing as they pinched and screamed for air. Prickles of pain were blossoming on her face and if felt as if her eyes were going to pop out. She couldn’t even moan and she reached her hands up to claw at anything, her nails meeting skin and as soon as they dug in the pressure was released. Cecile coughed and she felt the hands all over her, large coarse hands, squeezing like pythons, pressing in on her arm, squeezing her breasts, and forcing her legs apart.

Hold her still!

You haughty bitch!

I know those eyes!

And then the splash of water around her face and enveloping her head, the feel of a hand holding her under the water. Cecile pushed herself forward and she fell onto the cold, hard ground looking up at the ceiling where a million eyes were staring down at her, a million unblinking eyes on a million small faces. She spit the water out of her mouth and noticed with dismay as water was all over the floor, rising up around her body.

You have such a pretty neck; you should show it more often....

Cecile looked up and saw Michele standing on top of a pale, blond bench above the water level. Her eyes seemed larger than life like huge blue orbs and her smile too was exaggerated as she began to laugh.

Stop laughing!

Cecile stood up in the water, which was up to her calves.

Stop laughing!

Michele continued to laugh harder.

Such a lovely thing. You should learn to swim!

Cecile’s emerald crucifix was dangling and swinging from Michele’s hand. Mouth hanging in horror, Cecile looked down at her breast and saw an ugly black burn on her skin in the shape of her cross. Michele’s laughs continued to ring louder and Cecile couldn’t take it any longer, narrowing her eyes and stepping forward she whipped her hand back and slapped Michele across the face causing her to cry out and fall into the water.

Cecile my angel, forgive me...

Cecile looked up and saw her mother standing in the water, tears running down her face and her arms held out to her.

Mommy! Mommy!

With a loud strangled gasp, Cecile woke up, clutching her pillow to her chest, sweat beading her skin. It was dark, she was in bed, and she was safe. But the water... Cecile sat up, she could hear the water pouring in the bathroom, and it sounded like it was filling the tub. She didn’t remember running a bath!

"What in the world," Cecile muttered to herself glancing up at the red digital numbers of the clock. It was after two in the morning.

Shaking her head, Cecile slid her legs over the bed and then gasped when her feet sank into soaked carpet with a cold, squishing sound. "Oh my goodness," she muttered.

Gritting her teeth she hopped through the soaked carpet all the way to the bathroom, flicked on the light, and covered her own mouth to keep from screaming. The tub was filled past overflowing and cold water was pouring from it and flooding the basement. But what had made her scream was the sight of a black clothed, stocky man, in the tub, his face bloated and from first glance she knew he was drowned, the way his tongue was hanging, black and purple from his mouth.

Panting back sobs, Cecile ran out of the bathroom and out of the basement and she stopped where she was in the kitchen. It was silent there, but whomever killed that man, drowned him could still be in the house. How could she have slept through it? Was he attacking the rest of the family now? Why had he left her alone?

There was long mournful howl she assumed was from the puppy and then a silence.

A pair of hands closed around her shoulders and Cecile screamed in fright.

"Reveille-toi!"

Cecile opened her eyes again; she was back in bed and awash in the scent of clean soap and powder. Cecile held her breath for a moment and closed her eyes, not wanting to know what was going on.

"Reveille-toi. Wake up!"

"Mommy is she OK?"

"Oui my darling, just a nightmare. Jonathen take her upstairs. And take Gigi too, her howling is distressing."

There was a loud offended outburst from the puppy and Cecile could hear them going up the stairs. Cecile could feel warm breath on her forehead and she could hear Michele’s voice. "Open your eyes. Open them slowly mon cher, and breathe. It is always easier when you breathe."

Cecile exhaled and opened her eyes seeing the dimly lit world around her. Her mouth opened a bit and Michele wrapped her arms around her and pulled her to a sitting position. "You were making quite a noise," Michele said. "Loud enough to wake the house."

"Oh," Cecile whispered, she began to tremble. "I’ve never had a nightmare like that before."

Michele hugged her and Cecile closed her eyes. "They are terrible, these nightmares." she said.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I don’t know why..."

"After your ordeal, you did not even cry! It is natural for you to have a nightmare like this, were you dreaming of being attacked again?" Michele said.

"Yes," Cecile said. "In a way."

"See," Michele said kissing her on the cheeks. "Is normal."

Cecile shrunk away from Michele, her cheeks burning where she had kissed her.

"Are you OK now?" Michele said.

Cecile nodded.

"Bon," Michele said standing up and pouring a glass of water from the pitcher at the nightstand. "You must be thirsty."

Cecile grabbed the water and gulped it down gasping as she handed it back to Michele. "Bon soir," Michele said. "Sleep better little one and if you feel frightened again, do not hesitate to come up, oui?"

"Water!" Cecile said abruptly.

Michele frowned. "Pardon?"

"There was water everywhere," Cecile said. "I thought I was going to drown."

Michele stood still for a moment, blinking and then she said. "You’re such a lovely thing. Learn to swim, even in your dreams."

Cecile curled back up in the bed and as Michele turned around to leave, her foot kicked against a familiar, metal box. Michele turned back around, "Someone could get hurt tripping on this."

With her foot, Michele flipped the lid closed over the old jersey inside and she kicked it back under the bed so hard it smacked against the wall. Cecile flinched and looked at Michele. She didn’t know what to say she didn’t remember touching that box since the day that she had found it. Michele didn’t look angry though, she had that cryptic, Cheshire smile on her again and she turned and went up the stairs, flipping off the basement light as she did so. Cecile buried herself under the covers and cried softly.

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