Never Look Back. Robert Ross

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      “It’s okay,” he heard himself saying.

      You are so lame, Chris Muir. Here’s a pretty girl crying in your arms, and all you can do is hold her and say stupid things. No wonder you’re still a virgin. Lame, lame, lame.

      She pulled out of his embrace, wiping her face. “Sorry.” She gave him a weak smile. “You still want to help me?”

      “Sure.” If it means I get to put my arms around you again.

      “Well, I should warn you. It’s worse now.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “I know they aren’t dreams, Chris.” Jessie sighed. “It’s the house. There’s something living in that house. And I don’t mean people.”

      “Then what do you mean?”

      “Do you promise to help me?”

      “Jessie, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

      “Unless you help me, I won’t be able to stop them.”

      “Stop them from what?”

      She put her fists up to her ears in frustration, scrunching up her face. She turned away, then looked back at Chris. “Have you ever heard of Lettie Hatch?” she asked.

      Lettie Hatchet took a butcher knife, and with it took her father’s life….

      “Yeah,” Chris said. “Everyone has. She killed her parents.”

      “I live in her house, Chris. Lettie Hatch’s mother killed herself. And two years later her father got remarried to this young bitch and then Lettie killed her father and her stepmother.” She walked over to the window where the rain was still pounding the earth. “And my dad just got married again…to a girl way younger than he is. Are you starting to follow my line of reasoning?”

      “Uh, yeah…”

      “It’s going to all happen again, Chris, I know it is. I dream about it. I dream about the knife and the blood. And last night—”

      Gooseflesh crawled up Chris’s arms. “What happened last night?”

      “Last night I dreamed about killing her.” Jessie laughed. Almost a funny ha-ha kind of laugh, but Chris knew she wasn’t joking. “I dreamed I went into the kitchen and got the knife and went into her bedroom and started stabbing…and it felt so good!”

      She looked over at him with wild dark eyes.

      “It’s Lettie, Chris. She’s still in the house, somehow. She’s in my mind. Unless I stop her, unless I can do something, she’s going to do it again. She’s going to make me do it.”

      “Whoa.” Chris’s mind raced. “Let’s just take a breather here, okay?”

      She’s nuts, she has to be, she’s telling you she’s going to kill her parents, this is all so fucking crazy, get her out of here, she’s not stable, Lois and Joe are going to come home and find me carved up…

      “You have to believe me, Chris.”

      Something about her eyes, wild as they were, made Chris keep looking into them.

      “I don’t want to do this. That’s why you’ve got to help me.”

      Humor her, Chris, tell her what she wants to hear, but get her out of here.

      “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

      “I don’t know.” Jessie buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

      “Maybe…” He hesitated. “Maybe you should go back to your therapist.”

      “That would be totally brainless, Chris. If I told her—anyone else—they’d just lock me up somewhere, medicate me—and that won’t change anything!” She looked at him sadly. “It’s not that simple!”

      “Isn’t it? Come on, Jessie—maybe you’re wrong. Maybe—maybe the…” He cast about in his head for the right words. “Maybe your mom’s death—”

      “Unhinged me? Made me crazy?” She sighed. “Chris, crazy people don’t think they’re crazy. They don’t even wonder about it. And I do. Every day.” She sank back into her chair. “Every fucking day I wonder if I’m crazy. But what if I’m not, Chris? What if I’m not?”

      He looked down at her, not knowing what to do, what to say. How had he gotten into this mess?

      “You do think I’m crazy. I can see it in your face.”

      She ran into the bathroom and got her wet clothes. “Don’t worry,” she called, slinging them over her shoulder. “I’ll mail these sweats back to you. I won’t ever darken your doorstep again. I won’t bother you anymore!” And she ran into the front room.

      “Hey!” He went after her. The front door slammed shut behind her and within a few seconds he had it open again. She’d reached the gate.

      “Lettie! Don’t go!” he shouted.

      She stopped and stared back at him, the rain pouring down her face. “What did you call me?”

      “I—uh—”

      “You called me Lettie.” She stepped back onto the porch. “Why did you do that?”

      “I—I don’t know.” He really didn’t know. He knew her name was Jessie. His head started to hurt. Everything started to spin. “I don’t feel right—”

      “Chris!” he heard her shout, and then everything went black.

      He opened his eyes.

      She was looking down at him, her face lined with concern. But she wasn’t Jessie anymore. Oh, sure, she was about the same age, and looked like Jessie, but she was different somehow. The hair—it was the hair. Jessie’s hair was shoulder-length; now it was hanging down her back. And it wasn’t raining anymore: the sun was shining and he could feel the sweat on his forehead and under his arms.

      “Are you all right, Samuel?”

      “I—” He struggled to get up to his knees, but the dizziness came back. He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. He heard a horse clopping by and shook his head. The air was different somehow. Everything was the same but somehow different.

      “Samuel, talk to me!”

      “I don’t know what came over me,” he managed to say, opening his eyes and looking at her again.

      “You scared me.” Her voice was small, and shook with every word. He felt her lips press against his forehead. “Are you sure you are fine? Should I get you some water?”

      “I’ll be fine.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back. God, he loved her. He thought about her every waking moment, and dreamed about her as well. The pretty face, СКАЧАТЬ