Secrets of the Weeping Willow Read online

  Copyright 2021

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN: 978-1-09836-944-6 (print)

  ISBN: 978-1-09836-945-3 (eBook)

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  The rustic swing hung under the weeping willow tree, its wooden plank seat hard as it cut into the back of Elizabeth’s young legs while her hands gripped the coarse rope that hung from the branches far above her. Giddiness filled her as she watched beautiful, delicate butterflies dance among the rays of sunlight that broke through the long graceful tentacles that tenderly enveloped her, scattering the shadows of secrets long forgotten.

  Happy, Elizabeth fell back while her legs propelled her forward through the warm, filtered rays of sunlight, bringing her higher and higher until she felt as if she was indeed floating among the leaves. Her hands released their grip on the rope as the swing seemed to evaporate into the summer breeze with her arms spread wide. A giggle full of carefree innocence filled the air as the delicate wings of the butterflies tickled her skin where they touched while she floated among them.

  Not wanting to leave this imaginary fairytale, Elizabeth held her breath, trying to will the vision to last as long as it could, knowing it would end soon. It always did. It was always the same, starting so innocently and beautifully before the darkness and madness took over. This she knew as the air around her grew cold, sapping the warmth from the air and her soul, her heart now heavy with bitter sorrow. Her breath was painfully raw as she slowly opened her eyes to the darkening shadows that earlier had refused to be penetrated by the glorious light, but now crept forward to take back what the sunlight had taken. Elizabeth was left lost and full of hopeless confusion as her youthful innocence melted into the black mist that held so many secrets.

  Her unconscious mind reached deep within the recesses of her brain to find that which her conscious self kept hidden from her. Fear became a painful vise around her heart as her sanity began slipping like water through her fingers, until she was unable to fight the inevitable. Tears clouded her eyes, then fell down her cheeks like raindrops onto a woman who stood beneath the weeping willow in a gown of pure white that flowed around her in a shimmer of ignorance.

  A scream froze in Elizabeth’s throat while she willed herself to move so that she could break the trance in which found herself in. ”NO!” came the half-mad scream, loud within the silence of the vision as she broke free. Elizabeth knew she had seen it all before, knew that evil was just around the corner, lurking in the shadows. Sadness and desperation replaced the fear that had consumed her only a moment earlier. Her breath caught within her throat when beautiful green eyes, full of hopeless sadness, looked up, piercing her like a jagged knife. A sob escaped Elizabeth as she reached forward, afraid that the woman would vanish like a mist in the morning sun.

  “No.” Elizabeth’s voice was a whisper of despair as the woman looked down and away before she dropped to her knees beneath the weeping willow.

  The progression of the dream inevitable, the woman’s movements became frantic while she dug with her head dropped back, her scarlet lips moving, her breath a mist that filled the air with incoherent words that flowed around them in a thick fog. The fog started to swirl, lifting and carrying Elizabeth along until she found herself no longer beneath the weeping willow. Instead she was standing in a room of sunshine and blackness where blood, dark and as beautiful as a polished ruby, oozed up between the cracks of the hardwood floor seeping between her toes. Fascinated and horrified, Elizabeth found herself transfixed, unable to comprehend the slick warmth as it rose around her ankles, holding her in its warm grasp while a cool blackness started to settle down around her shoulders.

  Sensing an evil presence Elizabeth attempted to step back into the light where she knew her sanity lay but panic consumed her as it held her like quicksand, refusing to release her from its cruel grasp. Madness once more on the fringe of her mind, a scream filled the air, the sound full of the raw pain and sorrow seeping through Elizabeth’s pores like a poison. It tore through her soul brutally as she fell away from the noise. Her body became light while it disappeared into the blackness.

  Elizabeth Janson jerked awake, her breath a sharp gasp as she attempted to still her racing heart. Her eyes searched for something familiar to orient herself to the foreign furniture that surrounded her. Terrified by the dream, Elizabeth closed her eyes. Her breathe was shallow as she took it in, then she slowly released it once more in an attempt to calm her heart while she waited for her sanity to return. A realization settled over her that it had finally begun. It was as she had predicted, but now doubt was in the forefront her mind. She wondered if she truly was ready, as she had believed only a few days earlier.

  Leaning back, Elizabeth rested her head on the headboard while her eyes skimmed the room in which she found herself before pausing on a set of French doors leading into a small sitting area just beyond the bed. Calmness gradually settled over her with the normality of the room in front of her.

  “I can do this,” she thought apprehensively. The sound of a riverboat horn in the distance evaporated the thought from her head as a rush of adrenaline rushed through her veins. A scream formed a lump in her throat as she leaped forward. Her heart once again beat a violent rhythm in her chest as a whooshing sound drowned out the noise of the room. Her eyes looked frantically around the room, searching for the danger her unconscious mind held from her. A quiet serenity was the only danger that faced her; as a chuckle escaped her, which slowly became an uncontrollable fit of laughter at her overactive imagination.

  Elizabeth sighed when she was finally able to calm her heart and laughter, realizing that Aurora, her good friend and traveling companion, would truly believe she had gone insane if she had walked in at this moment and seen her like this, crouched on the bed like an animal about to pounce, laughing uncontrollably from the sound of a riverboat horn.

  She sat back so her back now rested against the high headboard. A hiccup escaped her while she looke
d across the room, her hands shaky as she reached up to wipe the tears from her cool cheeks, the dream flashing behind her eyes and her throat tightening with the memory of it. Lifting her knees, she hugged them to her chest, her face buried within the bony tips. The irony of the moment slowly sank in that it had been nine years to the day that she had been returned to her mother, bloodied and bruised with all her memories gone. She had been twelve then, but at times it felt like only yesterday when she was that scared little girl who had looked in the mirror wondering who she was while at the the same time, Rita, her eccentric mother, fed her bits of information about her childhood before her memory loss and then ironically encouraged her to forget those lost years. She had asked her mother once years ago: why? If her life had been so great before the abduction then why wouldn’t her mother want her to remember? Her mother had explained to her that she was afraid-afraid that with the happy memories would also come the bad.

  Elizabeth shook her head to clear it from the cluster of insecurities her mother always laid on her whenever she attempted to remember her past. Her mother never understood that she was willing to take the risk to get back a part of herself that was lost. With that thought in mind, she finally allowed the dream to seep back into her consciousness with a deep-seated feeling that the nightmare held the secret to her past and lost memories. Her breath was a flutter in her throat, and strange images filtered through her mind as Elizabeth struggled to place the pieces together. She felt scared but hopeful, knowing this was what she had hoped for when she had secretly started to plan this trip after seeing a television documentary on the city of New Orleans.

  Now that day seemed so long ago, when she had sat in her mother’s living room and watched in disbelief while images of New Orleans flashed across the screen, filling her with a sense of déjà vu. She could still remember how her heartbeat had become a throbbing in her head while she watched in unbelievable suspense a place she knew on a level deep within. The memories had scratched at her consciousness that day pleading to be released. But unfortunately as quickly as hope had filled her, frustration had quickly followed when she found her mind still unable to give her what she desired as the memories sat on the fringe of her conscious thoughts. The harder she attempted to recall those lost years, the more they pushed away from her consciousness.

  She had cried in frustration that night, the first time in a long time, overwhelmed by the sadness of her lost memories. But when she dried her eyes, she remembered reading an article once about lost memories and the truth behind amnesia. The article had mentioned that forgotten memories can sometimes be recovered by a sight, sound or even a familiar smell of that particular memory. Then, strangely, as if a voice had whispered in her ear telling her she could get back what she had lost. She just needed to go to the source which she now believed was New Orleans, she formulated a plan that night, a desperate plan, to retrieve her lost memories at all cost.

  Now with the return of the dream she knew that she had truly found her source. This strangely familiar place felt like a confused homecoming to her with its foreign familiar sounds and foreign familiar smells, she knew deep within her soul that she had come home, that this place was the answer to her amnesia that she could get back what she had lost. But, before she could truly get a grasp on the significance of this or what the images of her dream meant, the phone next to her startled her away from her thoughts. The sound loud within the quiet elegant room. She glared at the phone when it rang once more, the dream slipping away from her.

  She knew she had to pull herself back together. If she reacted this jittery to every little sound how was she going to face her hidden past? Furthermore she needed to finally tell Aurora why she had picked New Orleans for their milestone twenty-first birthdays. She would tell her, she had to tell her. There was no other way to do what she needed to do if Aurora knew nothing of it. Her hands absently rubbed her arms where goose bumps pricked her skin.

  Chapter 2

  Swearing under her breath she reached over to stop the persistent ring of the phone, at the same time reminding herself it could be Aurora telling her to get her lazy ass up and join the party. Her traveling companion and best friend Aurora had stepped out to do some exploring of the city so Elizabeth could close her eyes for a few moments after a migraine had developed shortly after they had landed in New Orleans. Migraines have plagued her since childhood with debilitating side effects if not caught in time.

  This migraine had progressed differently than normal. The intense pain had intensified quickly as Elizabeth had watched the city unfold in front of them. The metro shuttle brought them through the streets of New Orleans to their boutique hotel located a couple blocks from Bourbon Street in the heart of New Orleans French Quarters. The cab driver had explained the various sites they passed, but all Elizabeth could remember was a sense of eerie familiarity as she felt herself becoming more removed from the conversation and instead watched everything unfold in a strange disconnected reality.

  The streets and people had blurred behind flashes of another time, another place, with different people and different places unrecognizable to her yet strangely familiar. The visions had been quick and random as they assaulted her violently, overwhelmed, she attempted to hide the knowledge from Aurora who had sat next to her exclaiming in excitement all the fun they were going to have. Elizabeth had grinned in false excitement before finally she conceded to her pain when they arrived at the hotel; which reminded her that she needed to thank the desk clerk for the advice on the over-the-counter pain pills, because what she had used in the past had never worked this quickly or as efficiently.

  Elizabeth sensed that the migraine along with the flashes she had experienced earlier were all related to the nightmare she had just experienced. She just wished she could understand the significance of it better before she had to explain it to Aurora. Hell, who was she fooling? Aurora knew she had no memory of her life before the age of twelve and had been the one to point out to her that the dream was most likely a link to that time.

  Elizabeth cleared her throat as she reached over to pick up the phone, her spirits plummeting as she hears her mother Rita’s voice. So not who she wanted to talk to, her eyes rolled skywards in frustration.

  Her mother’s overprotective nature was the main reason she had hidden the trip from her until the day they flew out. She had known since she still lived with her mother she would have to tell her at some point about the trip. So she had put off telling her until she felt her mother could say nothing to discourage her from taking the trip. Finally when she broke the news to her mother, she had reacted precisely as Elizabeth thought she would; Which was to refuse Elizabeth from taking the trip. Elizabeth had been angry at the demand and had told her so, stating that she was too old to be forbidden a trip with a friend. But, her mother had insisted that since Elizabeth still lived under her roof, she could make irrational demands. This brought up the question in Elizabeth’s mind once more why she had let her mother convince her to live with her while she attended school. She was too old for this crap. When this trip was over she was going to have to cut the hours of credit she was taking, so she could work more hours to pay for a place of her own. Even though she knew it would crush her mother.

  Their relationship, in more ways than one, not a typical mother-daughter relationship. It was very complex and multilayered with experiences they had both lived through, creating a level of understanding and trust between them, or so Elizabeth had thought, until recently, when her mother started to make irrational demands of Elizabeth with no explanation.

  This made Elizabeth wonder if what happened to herself as a child had something to do with her mother’s past, a past that Elizabeth knew very little about. Her mother had been left outside a dumpster at the age of three with no note or form of identification. From then on, her mother had been moved from one foster home to another, until she ran from the system at the age of sixteen. This Elizabeth knew, with the further
knowledge that she was a product of it. Knowing that it was a very painful time in her mother’s past, Elizabeth had always let it lie, not wanting to hurt her mother further with having to explain the details of those days.

  But even with this knowledge, Elizabeth still had a hard time wrapping her mind around the way her mother had handled her abduction when she was twelve, never giving her any clear answers, hiring a seedy private investigator instead of notifying the authorities when she had been taken. She had only given Elizabeth a vague explanation, but what Elizabeth took away from it was that her mother was afraid. She never truly explained who or what she was afraid of, but the fear ran deep. On another note, it also brought up the question that had nagged Elizabeth for years, such as why her mother would continue to lie to her and, most importantly, why her mother was lying about New Orleans. Elizabeth knew they had been there but her mother refused to concede this knowledge to Elizabeth whenever she was asked.

  Even after Elizabeth had told her mother that she remembered that they had been to New Orleans her mother had treated her like she had mixed up memories and that with her disorder of amnesia, her memory was not to be trusted. However, Elizabeth had seen the fear in her mother’s eyes as she forced the argument until finally Elizabeth had realized that her mother wouldn’t or couldn’t say why. At that time, Elizabeth had decided that she was going to discover herself what her mother would not tell her and to do this she needed to hide the trip she had planned with Aurora to New Orleans.

  Elizabeth blew out her breath in exasperation before she answered. “Hello, Mother.”

  “I thought you were going to call when you arrived?” Her mother said, a sharp note to her voice.

  “No. I told you I would call when I had an opportunity to.” Elizabeth replied in exasperation.

  “And this was your first opportunity?” her mother asked her words laced with disbelief.

  “Mom, please…did you just call to give me a lecture? Because, I’m not up for that lecture right now.”