The Murmurs by Michael J. Malone EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Michael J. Malone
- Language: English
- Genre: Witch & Wizard Thrillers
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Annie – Now
She was underwater. The world reaching her ears through a muffle,
gurgle and splash.
At first, it was nice. The water just how she liked it. She was on her
own. No annoying sibling or parents demanding anything.
Then.
Pressure and a weight on her head.
Strong.
Firm.
Determined pressure.
She kicked furiously. Screamed, ‘Help!’ But as she opened her mouth
it filled with water. She spat it out. Panic sparked bright, increasing her
need for oxygen.
Desperately trying to scream while not taking in any more water.
‘Help.’
Shaking her head, fighting to get away from the pressure. Fighting to
get a hold of the fingers holding her head. Struggling to get purchase that
would help her push up out of the water. But her heels slipped furiously
against the floor of the bath.
And no matter how much she fought, and struggled, and screamed,
she was stuck. Always stuck.
Lungs desperate for air.
Breathe, breathe, BREATHE. But she couldn’t open her mouth
because it would fill with water again.
In silent desperation she pretended she’d drowned. Went limp. Waited
for the hand to move. Then she could shoot up out of the water onto dry
land.
But the pressure never let up.
Until, blessed relief, she shot up from her pillow, hair sweat-plastered
to her forehead and her quilt wrapped so tightly around her legs it took
several moments to get free.
That Annie had the dream on the night before the next big change in
her life, having not had it for a long time, made her query her choices.
Was she doing the right thing? Going for the right job? Was the dream
some kind of warning?
‘Did I nearly drown as a kid?’ she’d asked her brother Lewis after the
first dozen times the dream visited her.
‘Pff,’ he snorted. ‘I can barely remember what I had for dinner last
night, and you expect me to remember something like that?’
‘Godssake,’ she countered. ‘Surely you’d remember something like
your favourite sister nearly dying?’
‘Only sister.’ He grinned.
‘Well, what the hell is this dream all about then?’
If she’d had parents, she could have asked them, but they both died
when she was in her teens. Her mother in a car accident – that she was
also supposedly in; no memory of that either – and her father ten months
later, of a broken heart.
‘Great that he loved his wife, and all that,’ she’d said to Lewis during
a teenage Buckfast session in the local park. ‘But suicide? Really?
Couldn’t he have loved his kids a wee bit more? Save us having to live
with those losers.’
Those ‘losers’ were the McEvoys, childhood friends of their father –
church elders, who applied to adopt them when their father died, to save
them going into the system. A fact that Mrs McEvoy reminded Annie of
after every teenage huff.
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