Heather's story part 3

Heather’s story part 3
By Varian Milagro


Heather woke up disoriented, unsure at first where she was or even what day it was. She was in a large, pink bedroom and there were sounds of water hitting tile coming from a door on the other side of the room. When she spotted Mr. Whiskers snoozing on a desk next to a pink laptop, the events of the previous day came back to her, as did her dream.

She wasn’t sure if dream was the right word--nightmare, vision, unlocked memory--she wasn’t quite sure which fit best. It had been too weird to be memory, but too lifelike to be a dream. Either way, dream or memory, it was definitely a nightmare. Vicky and Rebecca were now strippers? It was too absurd to be true. There was no way they’d be caught dead in a strip club, let alone dance naked in front of a bunch of perverts. Her sister, Bethany, now had magical mental powers? There was no such thing as magic, but it would go a long way to explain her mom’s changes, the smoking and visits to a hair salon. Plus, Rebecca wasn’t gay, they hadn’t kissed and Heather hadn’t enjoyed it. It was all a lie, it had to be, and just thinking about it gave her a headache.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Abigail said when she exited the bathroom. Her hair was wrapped up in a towel and her body was wrapped in a robe nearly as fluffy as her cat. Her legs and face shined from recent application of moisturize. “How do you feel? I bet that you’re tired. You tossed and turned all night long.”

“I’m sorry,” Heather said. “I should probably sleep in the guest room tonight.”

“You didn’t bother me. I just bet that you could really use some caffeine. I was thinking of going to Hava Java while you shower. You want your usual?”

“Yes, please. You’re so sweet.” Heather picked up her dress off the back of Abigail’s desk chair. “I’m not sure what I’m going to wear.”

Abigail motioned toward her walk in closet. “You know that you’re welcome to borrow anything of mine.” More to herself she said, “Not that you’ll actually wear any of my clothes.”

Heather was well aware of the contents of Abigail’s closet, skirts that showed off the leg and colorful, sleeveless blouses. “It’s alright, I’ll put my clothes in the washing machine before I take a shower.”

Abigail frowned at the drab brown dress. “Are you sure that you don’t have any other clothes with you?”

Heather thought back. She hadn’t brought anything with her when she’d visited her sister on Saturday, but in her dream Tracey had gone to her house and packed a suitcase with clothes, toiletries and her bible. Could that suitcase be in her car? She waited for Abigail to dress before heading outside, afraid of what she might find and not wanting to face it alone.

When she opened the trunk of her car and saw the suitcase, the same one from her dream, she gasped. Upon opening it, she found it filled with the same clothes and toiletries as in her dream. Did the events in her dream actually happen? Rebecca was a stripper and Bethany was some kind of witch?

“It’s not possible.” Heather stared at the suitcase.

“What’s wrong?” Abigail said. “These are your clothes, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but…”

“You’re scaring me, Heather. Why are you looking at your clothes like they might jump up and attack you?”

“I’m sorry.” Heather wiped at the tears forming in her eyes. “I don’t remember packing the suitcase and it’s kind of scaring me.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is? You were pretty freaked last night, too. That must have been a scary nightmare to make you scream like that.”

Rebecca’s naked body covered in tattoos flashed in Heather’s mind, along with the feeling of her full, soft lips pressed against hers. She looked up at Abigail. Her lips weren’t as full as Rebecca’s, but they looked just as soft and inviting. She shook her head, hoping to clear her mind from the obscene thoughts.

“I’d rather not talk about it right now.”

Abigail looked hurt for a second, but she quickly plastered on a smile. “Okay, I’m here whenever you want to talk.”

Heather carried her suitcase into the house while Abigail headed toward her car.

The shower felt wonderful and did much to improve her mood, but it crashed quickly afterwards when she tried to remove the eyeliner from around her eyes. No amount of rubbing would remove it. She tried using soap and cold cream with a wash cloth, but it was just as dark as when she’d started. She hadn’t even managed to smear it.

It was while she scrubbed her eyelids raw that the cravings began and were quickly followed by a headache centered directly behind her eyes. The strange craving was bad enough, but she didn’t know what she wanted. It was a general need for something. Her first thought was that she needed caffeine, but she’d never craved coffee like this before, not even a triple shot, salted caramel, mocha. Figuring that the craving had to be caffeine related she dressed quickly and then sat on the bed, petting Mr. Whiskers, while awaiting Abigail’s return.

Her craving grew by the minute and with it the strange heat that she’d felt the night before. It simmered in her belly, growing in strength and power slowly, steadily. She focused her attention on the force inside her and her mind was assaulted with flashes of hooded figures and vile liquids in depraved goblets. They were replaced by the image of a large man rushing toward her, a malicious look in his eyes and a hunger in his lewd smile, the fire within her rising to meet him.

“They were out of blueberry muffins so I got you a marionberry scone.”

Heather’s body jerked at Abigail’s voice. Mr. Whiskers sprang off her, landing on the floor with his back arched and tail raised high, hair standing on end.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Whiskers,” Heather said. Her voice sounded unsteady to her ears.

The cat hissed at her and then bolted out of the room.

“He’ll get over it,” Abigail said as she handed Heather a drink.

Heather took a long drink from her mocha, hoping that the caffeine would ease her pain, wanting to be rid of both her cravings and headache. The first gulp didn’t help so quickly followed it with another.

“Wow, somebody needed to get their caffeine on,” Abigail said as she took a sip of her own drink.

Heather popped off the plastic top of her coffee and took a larger gulp. Sipping through the tiny slot in the lid only frustrated her.

“You are acting really strange,” Abigail said as watched Heather drained the last of her 20 ounce drink.

“I have the worst headache and I thought that it was a caffeine headache.” Unfortunately, the coffee hadn’t eased the pain in her skull. If anything it had intensified her cravings.

“I have some Aleve in the bathroom.”

The pain reliever helped the headache, but the cravings remained and grew stronger throughout the day. Heather’s mood grew fouler by the minute.

They hung out in Abigail’s bedroom for the first half of the day, listening to soft music. Abigail sat at her laptop going through her Facebook feed while providing a running commentary to all who’d listen. Heather lay on the bed and focused on resisting the urge to scream her troubles away.

In the early afternoon they abandoned the refuge of Abigail’s room and ventured into the kitchen for something to eat. After inventorying the contents of the refrigerator for a few minutes they decided on a chicken breast and avocado salad.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or do I have to guess?” Abigail said as she hacked at a head of romaine lettuce.

Heather stopped cutting her avocado. She ached to confide in her friend, she hated facing her distress alone, but was so ashamed. Her sister had been corrupted by evil and now she was corrupting their family one member at a time. Not only that, but she’d kissed a girl and liked it. Sure, her sister had used magic to force her to like it, but now whenever she looked at Abigail she remembered the kiss and had the impulse to see if she kissed as well as Rebecca. How could she share that?

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Heather resumed slicing up the avocado.

“Keeping things bottled up is what gives you nightmares.”

Heather slammed the knife down on the cutting board. “I’m not ready, okay? Stop bugging me about it!” The force that had been growing inside her body throughout the day suddenly flared, making her feel like she was about to explode. She grabbed the kitchen counter and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself.

Abigail shrank away from her friend. “You’re starting to scare me, Heather. You haven’t been yourself since you got here yesterday. I’m just trying to help.”

“I’m sorry. I’m tired and I’m worried about Jimmy and Donna.” She’d keep the parts about the weird cravings, the strange internal force building inside her body and her new appreciation for her best friend to herself for the time being.

“Well, why don’t we go by the high school today? We could give them a ride home and see how they are.”

“I can’t go home!” The thought of going into her house or even stepping onto the property terrified her. When she saw the expression on Abigail’s face, a mixture of fear and confusion, she scrambled for a reasonable excuse for her outburst. “If my mom sees us together she’ll tell Bethany where I am.”

Abigail’s body relaxed slightly. “Your sister can probably guess where you are; we’ve been best friends for like, ever.” She scooped up the chopped lettuce and dropped it into a large serving bowl. “Instead of taking them all the way home, We can drop them off down the street, around the corner.”

Heather agreed with Abigail’s plan, but it hit a snag after lunch when they informed Kathleen that they were leaving.

“You’re not going anywhere until your chores are complete.” Kathleen looked up from her book. “You are too old for me to constantly have to remind you to fulfill your responsibilities.”

Abigail threw up her hands. “Why don’t we hire a housekeeper? It’s not like we don’t have the money. Even Dad wants one.”

Kathleen’s jaw clenched. “Not this again.” She closed her book, set it down on the living room coffee table and then stood. “As long as you live under our roof you will help out in the household chores. You are welcome to get a job and move out if you find the few tasks we assign you too bothersome.”

“Is it okay if I do Abigail’s chores for her while she’s gone?” Heather said, knowing that by the time Abigail finished her chores they’d miss the chance to pick up Jimmy and Donna from school.

Kathleen studied Heather for a moment. “Today I’ll allow it.” Turning her attention back to her daughter she said, “Tomorrow I want you to do them first thing and without complaint, understand?”

“Why don’t you go while I do my own chores?” Abigail said as they walked toward the front door.

“I’m afraid to be with them alone.”

“Why? What are you afraid of?” The fearful, confused look was back on Abigail’s face.

“I don’t know why. I’m probably just being paranoid.”

While Abigail drove to Laramie High School, Heather got busy vacuuming. She welcomed the task. The white noise of the vacuum cleaner and the repetitive motion of pushing it back and forth had a calming effect on her and kept her mind off her troubles. She didn’t know how much more she could endure before it became too much. When that happened she didn’t want to be around anyone she cared about.

When Abigail returned Heather was folding bed sheets. A weight lifted from her body when she saw Abigail’s smile.

“They’re okay,” Abigail said. “Your mom smokes in the house now and she’s taking Donna to the mall today to buy her a new, more fashionable, wardrobe. Donna is kind of freaked out, but excited at the same time. She likes the idea of getting new clothes, but is weirded out by your mom’s new dress sense at the same time.”

“Oh good.” Hearing that her brother and sister were still safe made Heather think that she could survive the day.

“There is some potential bad news. Apparently Bethany will be over at your parent’s house for dinner on Friday. From what Donna said your mom thinks that Bethany is going to give Donna a lesson in fashion.”

“I have to get them out of there,” Heather said in a panic.

“Why?”

“Bethany is going to do something bad to them.”

“Would you please tell me what’s going on?” Abigail said. “It’s killing me seeing you in obvious distress and you not sharing. You know that you can tell me anything.”

Heather still worried about her friend’s reaction to the truth, but she couldn’t keep it bottled up much longer. “I think the dream I had last night was more of a memory than an actual dream. In it, Bethany said that she had plans for Donna and Jimmy.”

“What do you think she’s going to do to them?”

Heather told Abigail about the dream, about Bethany’s mental powers, about the threat to Jimmy and Donna and about meeting Rebecca at the strip club. She skipped the kiss and her reaction to it.

“Becky and Victoria are strippers? That’s really hard to believe. I’m sure it was just a bad dream.”

“I don’t know, Abigail. It feels so real. I remember it like I remember dinner last night. Normally, all of my dreams are fuzzy and hard to remember. Last night’s dream is still crystal clear in my mind.”

“Well, there’s one way we can check it out.” Abigail led Heather into her father’s study. The walls were lined with bookcases and a large, mahogany desk took up half the room. She grabbed one of the chairs that sat in front of the desk and then carried it into her room and sat it in front of her laptop, next to her own desk chair. Once they were both seated she opened her laptop. “Newgrounds should have a website; let’s see if it shows pictures of their strippers.”

After a quick Google search, Abigail brought up the Newgrounds website. A black and white photo of a naked woman in the throes of ecstasy served as its wallpaper, embarrassing both girls. A navigation bar at the top of the page held links for “Menu”, “Dancers”, “Hours”, “Location”. Abigail clicked on the “Dancers” link and a new window popped up, containing series of photos of surgically enhanced women wearing too little clothing and too much makeup. Next to each picture was a short bio listing, among other things, the girl’s measurements and her turn-ons. Heather and Abigail scanned the page, but didn’t see a picture of their friends.

“See, they aren’t listed. It must have been a bad dream.” Abigail closed the pop-up window.

“Wait. Click on that link.”

To the right of the navigation bar was a blinking link announcing new dancers. Abigail clicked it. There was a photo of Rebecca, looking exactly as she had in Heather’s dream. Next to it was a photo of Victoria. She was dressed in a trashy schoolgirl uniform. Her hair was dyed blonde and tied into pigtails.

“Oh my god,” Abigail said as she stared at her former church friends. “We need to tell someone about this.”

“Who can we tell? Rebecca’s mom works at the strip club too. They’re not doing anything illegal, so we can’t tell the police. Pastor William might be able to do something, but he’s gone all week.”

“There has to be something that can be done.”

Heather shrugged.

They didn’t talk about Rebecca, Vicky or Bethany for the rest of the day. Heather continued to feel worse as her cravings increased steadily through the day. Her skin crawled and her face felt tight, especially around the eyes. When her headache returned she took some more Aleve, but it failed to help this time. As her physical discomforts continued to mount so too did the burning in her gut, the feeling of a force of power preparing to erupt and unleash itself on the world.

When it was finally time to go to bed, Heather told Abigail that she wanted to sleep in the guest bedroom. Abigail objected.

“You don’t want to sleep alone, not with everything that’s going on,” Abigail said.

“I don’t want to wake you if I have another nightmare.” Heather had never given a second thought to sharing a bed with her best friend. But now, when she thought about laying next to her, both of them practically naked...

“That’s all the more reason to stay in my room.” Abigail chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. “I can get my dad to set up an inflatable mattress in my room. You can sleep on that. Then you won’t wake me if you toss and turn, but I’ll be right there if you start screaming again.”

Heather agreed. She viewed the prospect of sleep with mixed feelings. On the one hand it would bring a few hours relief from her physical discomfort, but it would also mean the possibility of another nightmare.

Heather's Story - Chapter 4