Dinosaurs, Christmas, and Sexy Men In Suits

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

• • Talon • •

"This time, I remembered I was lying in the oak closet, and I heard distinctly the gusty wind, and the driving of the snow; I heard, also, the fir bough repeat its teasing sound, and ascribed it to the right cause: but it annoyed me so much, that I resolved to silence it, if possible; and, I thought, I rose and endeavoured to unhasp the casement. The hook was soldered into the staple: a circumstance observed by me when awake, but forgotten. 'I must stop it, nevertheless!' I muttered, knocking my knuckles through the glass, and stretching an arm out to seize the importunate branch; instead of which, my fingers closed on the fingers of a little, ice-cold hand!
The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in—let me in!' 'Who are you?' I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. 'Catherine Linton,' it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of Linton? I had read Earnshaw twenty times for Linton); 'I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!'
As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child's face looking through the window. Terror made me cruel; and, finding it useless to attempt shaking the creature off, I pulled its wrist on to the broken pane, and rubbed it to and fro till the blood ran down and soaked the bedclothes: still it wailed, 'Let me in!' and maintained its tenacious gripe, almost maddening me with fear. 'How can I!' I said at length. 'Let me go, if you want me to let you in!'
The fingers relaxed, I snatched mine through the hole, hurriedly piled the books up in a pyramid against it, and stopped my ears to exclude the lamentable prayer. I seemed to keep them closed above a quarter of an hour; yet, the instant I listened again, there was the doleful cry moaning on!
'Begone!' I shouted. 'I'll never let you in, not if you beg for twenty years.' 'It is twenty years,' mourned the voice: 'twenty years. I've been a waif for twenty years!'"

"Talon?" I looked up from the book I was reading to Olivia and frowned at the nurse standing in the doorway. She held a bunch of equipment, including a syringe.

"We will continue Wuthering Heights later baby." I stood up after placing the book in the bedside table and left the room. I could never stay and watch them squeeze puréed food down her tube that was connected to her stomach. After all these weeks, I was the one who brushed her hair, gave her a sponge bath, read to her, and told her all about my day. I updated her if anything happened at school. The guys, Lexi, Mina and I would play board games in her room, and it just brought her to life a little bit more. Corrine stopped by daily like I did, and we chatted, including Olivia in all the time.

After giving Olivia a tender kiss on her head, I headed home, my heart feeling heavy. It's almost been a full month, but I don't let it bring me down.

"Talon?" my mom calls as I step into the house. I saunter through the foyer and into the kitchen where she was cleaning up after supper.

"Yeah mom?"

"How is Olivia?" Farrah stopped what she was doing and gave me her full attention. I smiled meekly and sat down on the stool sitting at the breakfast bar.

"She's the same. I'm reading her Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë." My mom's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Wow. That's not an easy book to read." I nodded in agreement.

"Corrine told me that that was one of her favorite books."

"Well that's nice of her to tell you that. Are you going back tomorrow?" she asked.

"Of course." Since the conversation wasn't going anywhere, I told her goodnight and went upstairs to go to sleep. When I opened my door I was surprised to see Lexi on my bed, waiting for me.