Shadows of the Past: A Supernatural Suspense Mystery (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 1) by Nellie Steele (read aloud .txt) 📗

Josie spent the rest of the day feigning relaxation on the couch when she was anything but relaxed. She felt guilty, both Damien and Michael were falling over themselves to make sure she was comfortable and stress-free, but she couldn’t shake the residual emotions from the latest version of the dream. The dreams seemed to be intensifying and coming more frequently. They were lasting longer and including more disturbing information.

By the end of the afternoon, she found it difficult to keep her cool and jovial attitude. The movie marathon provided little distraction no matter what genre they tried.

“What movie next, Jos?” Damien asked. “We have time for two more. It’s your pick.”

“Ah, pass, someone else can pick.”

“Come on, it’s your turn.”

“Actually, I think I’ll get some fresh air.”

“Fresh air?”

“Yeah, I’d like to take a walk, clear my head.”

“Yeah, stretch the legs, that sounds good, then we’ll do one last movie,” Michael said.

“I didn’t mean all of us,” Josie retorted.

“Well, too bad,” Michael responded, “You’re not supposed to be going out alone, remember?”

“Oh, whatever, I’m too tired to argue, let’s just go. First, I have to change my shoes.”

“Okay, we’ll meet down here in a few minutes,” Michael said.

Annoyed, Josie trudged up the stairs. She just wanted five minutes alone. She knew everyone was concerned for her and doing their best to protect her from whatever was happening and she hated herself for reacting this way. But she was becoming overwhelmed with the entire situation and growing anxious about trying to sleep that night.

As she retrieved her shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on, she opened the music box. Its sweet music filled the room. She took a few deep breaths, closing her eyes, letting the music soothe her frayed nerves. She put her shoes on, tying the laces slowly and methodically as she let the music wash over her. She spent another moment listening to the music before heading down to meet the guys for a walk. As she closed the music box, she saw the business card again. Her hand reached for it before she stopped herself. She would not dwell on it, instead, she forced herself to go for her walk.

The walk did not clear her mind. She spent most of the time trying to keep up with the pleasantries designed to keep her mind off of her troubles. She forced herself to sit through one more movie before feigning tiredness and excusing herself to go to bed.

Josie was not tired, but she needed to be alone. She opened the music box and curled up on her bed with a book. She wasn’t able to concentrate on it and after a few pages she gave up on it, tossing it aside and grabbing her laptop. She browsed social media sites, news articles, and email before playing a few games of solitaire. She tried anything and everything to distract herself but none of it worked.

After running out of distractions, she tried to sleep. She was exhausted, but almost too terrified to close her eyes. She laid down and fought to stay awake but after a while her eyelids became heavy and she closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep. The dream came to her not long after, ruining her sleep early on. She awoke in tears, not only from the terror of the dream but in frustration.

The little music box continued playing its tune on and on, doing its best to soothe her tattered nerves. She reached for it, hugging it to her, wiping tears away. Her fingers ran over the necklace then the business card. She grasped it for the umpteenth time and studied it in the moonlight that streamed in through the window. How could he help her, she wondered? Then again, how could he hurt? She was a mess. Something seemed strangely familiar about the man, she thought, something that calmed her or drew her to him. In a moment of impulsivity, she grabbed her cell phone from the night table and texted the number: How do you think you can help me?

She regretted it as soon as the message was sent. Josie threw her phone down among the covers. Why was she texting a stranger in the middle of the night? What did she expect him to answer? The man was unbalanced at best, yet Josie had texted him and asked for his help. What did that say about her?

She tried to push everything from her mind and concentrate on the music. She closed her eyes, focusing on it until another sound intruded into the night. Opening her eyes, she picked up her cell phone. She had a text message waiting: Hello, Josie, or can I now call you Celine again?

The prompt response surprised Josie. She waited a moment before responding, considering if she should answer and what she should say. Before she responded, a second message came through: I can help you, you’re not crazy.

Uncontrollable tears streamed down her face. She didn’t know why, perhaps from relief that someone didn’t think she was crazy or perhaps she was just overtired. She let herself sob for a moment before grabbing her phone with a shaky hand to reply: I don’t see how you can help me.

Within moments, the reply came: You must have thought I could, you texted me.

Josie answered: Why are you following me?

I need your help, but only after you remember who you are. I can help you remember.

Josie was lost: I’m Josie Benson. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

You’re having dreams, nightmares… about that night, the night you changed… the night that changed your life.

The conversation unnerved Josie. She texted back: I made a mistake contacting you, please leave me alone.

A response came almost immediately: Celine, please…

Josie ignored it but within minutes another text came through: I can help you… stop the nightmares and help you remember

Tears rolled from Josie’s eyes again as another message came