Chapter 17. “Rebecca!” Mary managed to choke out

“Rebecca!” Mary managed to choke out. Rebecca’s body swung heavily above Mary’s head. Gaping up in horror, Mary saw the heavy rope tied around Rebecca’s neck and suspended from the rafter.

She saw Rebecca’s arms dangling lifelessly.

She saw Rebecca’s face, the skin dark, the eyes bulging.

Creak. Creak.

“Rebecca! Nooooooooooooo!” Mary uttered a high-pitched wail and dropped to her knees. The floor tilted up to meet her. She felt ready to faint.

She shut her eyes and shook her head, as if trying to shake the whole scene away.

But even with her eyes closed, Mary saw Rebecca’s body swinging from the rope like a heavy, ripe fruit.

What happened here?

Did Rebecca hang herself?

Was she murdered?

The horrifying questions forced their way into Mary’s mind.

She opened her eyes and saw Rebecca’s dress hovering beside her face.

“I—I cannot accept this,” Mary said. “I—I—cannot—” She began to vomit then, her entire body convulsing in tremor after tremor.

Until she was crying. And screaming.

And on her feet again.

And outside. Without realizing it, she had started to run.

In the now heavy rain. The cold rainwater washing her face, drenching her hair, soaking through her dress.

Her shoes splashing up puddles as she ran through the soft dirt toward her home.

“Edward! Where are you? Edward?”

And where is Ezra? she wondered.

And how will I tell everyone?

And how will I ever get the hideous sight out of my mind?

How? How? How?

The pouring rain couldn’t wash away the image of Rebecca, her head twisted at such a strange angle, swinging so gently from the ceiling.

The rain couldn’t wash away the blackened skin, the bulging eyes.

The rain couldn’t drown out the creak-creak of the body as it swung gently back and forth.

“Edward! Father! Mother! Help me!”

Mary ran through the rain, her arms outstretched as if reaching for help. Ran screaming without hearing her own cries.

Rebecca, you cannot be dead.

Please do not be dead!

Do not be dead, Rebecca.

Mary was halfway across the pasture now, slipping over the puddled grass. Rainwater matted her hair against her head, ran down her forehead, and blurred her vision.

The house loomed ahead of her, gray against the low black sky.

“Edward! Where are you? Edward? Father? Father?”

Her feet slid out from under her, and she fell, sprawling facedown in the soft cold mud. She landed hard on her elbows and knees.

‘Oh!”

Maybe I will not get up. Maybe I shall stay here forever.

Maybe I shall just lie here in the mud and let the rain carry me away, float me away from—everything.

With a desperate cry she pulled herself to her feet, her clothes covered with mud, her hair hanging heavily in her face.

She took a few steps, then stopped with a shocked gasp.

Who is that?

A stranger standing in the middle of the pasture.

Dressed in black, standing as still as death.

Am I seeing things?

She pushed her hair out of her eyes with both hands and wiped the rainwater from her face.

No.

He was still there.

Who can it be?

Why is he standing so still in the pouring rain and staring at me?

She called out to him.

The dark figure stared at her without moving.

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20