Shelley Russell Nolan - Arcane Awakenings the Collection: Books 1--6

Copyright 2019 by Shelley Russell Nolan

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For Donna, Jennifer and Dannielle

I stared at the little blue pill in the palm of my hand.

Tired of waking coated in sweat, with the bed sheets twisted around my legs, Id grabbed the last packet of pills out of the top drawer of my bedside table, despairing that the months spent weaning myself off the medication had been for nothing.

The pill, innocuous and yet seductive, promised a dreamless night and a return to existing on autopilot.

My hand shook as I lifted it toward my mouth, the sting of failure making my eyes water. Aunt Joyce had predicted I wouldnt be able to handle life without medication and would snap under the pressure of the real world. The day I moved out shed stood in the doorway and watched me pile my bags into the back of the taxi, as usual making no attempt to hide her scorn.

Shed said I wouldnt last six months without medication.

If I swallowed this pill, Id be proving her right.

My spine stiffened, and I made a fist.

No.

She was the one who was wrong.

I launched myself off the bed and raced to the toilet. Before I could think twice, I lifted the lid and threw the pill into the bowl. Breathing ragged, I flushed the toilet, and watched the water carry temptation away.

Sweat trickled down my forehead, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand as I returned to my room. I sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over, arms wrapped around my stomach as I rocked backward and forward. Gradually my breathing eased, and I lay down, arms at my sides, hands gripping the sheet beneath me. I stared at the ceiling, at the shadows cast by the lamp on the bedside table.

Eyelids impossibly heavy, given weight by weeks of disturbed nights, they closed, and sleep claimed me.

It felt as if Id only just fallen asleep when I was transported to the room that had haunted me for as long as I could remember.

I stand in the open doorway as the empty room ripples before filling with furniture. Twin timber beds rest against one wall, covered in matching pink quilts with a colourful collection of stuffed toys on the pillows. White lace billows over the window between the beds and glittering fairies dance on the pink and white curtains hanging open on either side.

On the opposite side of the room a brown rocking horse with a golden mane sits beside a large pink and white toy box. An ornate dollhouse rests on a multi-coloured rug in the centre of the room, just waiting to be played with by little hands.

The room is neat and tidy, everything in its place, but I know that will soon change. My stomach clenches, dread filling my mouth with bile. I struggle to move, to leave the room, but remain frozen in place, helpless to do anything but bear witness as the dream plays out before me.

The room ripples, and now it is no longer neat. Toys are strewn over the floor, the quilts have been thrown off the beds, and the sheets rumpled. A small child sits on one of the beds, legs dangling over the edge. She is beautiful, with dark blonde curls and sleepy indigo eyes, one chubby hand clutching a well-worn teddy to her chest. She appears to be around three years of age.

The little girl is me, a reflection of the child I had once been. I smile at my former self, enjoying this moment of peace even though I know it is not to last. The room ripples once more and I shudder as the dream shifts to nightmare.

The room goes dark and smoke obscures my vision. I wave a hand in front of my face to clear the smoke away, and desperately search for the little girl. She is now standing in the middle of the bed, beseeching me with terror-filled eyes.

A crackling noise from behind makes me spin around and I find myself looking down a long hall filled with smoke, flames licking the walls, heat pressing against my face. Mesmerised by the flames, my attention is caught, until a terrified scream has me turning back to my childhood self.

Fire is devouring the fairies on the curtains as the little girl backs away from them in fear. She reaches the end of the bed and looks over her shoulder at me.

Help me, Andie, please. Im scared. The little girl stretches a hand toward me. Her mouth doesnt move, but her words echo in my head.

I want to take her in my arms and pluck her to safety. I take one step inside the room, jumping back when part of the ceiling collapses to the floor in front of me, crushing the dollhouse. I move around it, one hand shielding my eyes when the rug beneath the chunk of ceiling catches fire. Heat blasts me from all sides as the little girl silently cries my name. I reach out to her and she smiles as our fingertips touch. I lean forward, preparing to take the last step so I can scoop her into my arms.

Something grabs me around my waist and pulls me back.

No. I struggle to break free, striving with all my might to go to the little girl, hoping this time the unseen force will relent.

Andie! The little girl screams, retreating to the other end of the bed as more of the ceiling caves in between us.

Let me go. Tears stream down my cheeks. I desperately want to go back, to rescue the little girl. Instead, I am picked up and carried down the hall.

The childs cries get louder, more insistent, and I cover my ears but am unable to block them out as they are inside my head. Smoke fills my lungs and I choke on it, eyes stinging and chest heaving.

Then darkness takes me.

I bolted upright, coughing, rubbing my abraded throat, an echo of the little girls screams ringing in my ears. My body trembled as an acute sense of loss filled me. Shivers racked my body and I grabbed a throw rug off the end of the bed and wrapped it around my shoulders in a vain effort to get warm. A wide yawn made my eyes water but I resisted the urge to lie down. Even if I did manage to go back to sleep, experience taught me the nightmare would return.

I grabbed my mobile phone off the bedside table and checked the time. Three am. I stared at the wall opposite my bed, still seeing the little girls face, my face. I rubbed my eyes, wiping away tears, wishing I knew why this dream continued to haunt me.

The first time had been the night after my parents died in a car accident. All I had were vague memories of waking in the middle of the night, in a strange room, screaming. Id called for my mum, only to be told she was gone and Joyce, Uncle Bills new wife, was now my mother. A woman I had never met stood beside the bed, frowning at me. Then she walked out of the room without saying another word, leaving it to my older brother Daniel to comfort me.