Date: 1 January 2021 Time: 00:42 AM Location: Evening Primrose
“Sarah?”
Hugh wakes up to the voice, finding himself lying on the corner booth of Evening Primrose. He remembers dropping by for the New Year’s. He must have passed out. The light is out in the diner, and all is quiet-- but the air is dark and heavy and familiar... like walking through the hospital corridor at night. “Herb?” Hugh calls out, kicking off the blanket over his legs and climbing out. The voice in his head warns him, be wary. “Not now,” he dismisses it with a shush, and ignores the migraine it gives him. He fumbles through the room to the store front. Hugh finds his father on the street, staring at a figure in front of him. He grimaces as his eyes play tricks on him, mixing up a shadow and that figure... he doesn’t recognize his own voice, uttering the word he had not in a while. “...mom?”
Sarah Stewart, emaciated and in a hospital gown, does not appear the way Hugh remembers but as the image from her dying days. His mind doesn’t compute with his heart beating hot with fear and confusion and anger and sorrow. “Sarah.” He hears his father whispering, whimpering. “Dad, no, get back--” he sees Sarah reaching out to touch Herbert in the cheek. He sees his father collapsing to the ground. His eyes meet with his mother’s, and they nail such horror into his chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.” Her otherworldly voice echoes as she glides toward him. His legs move on their own, backing away from his mother, as the voice in his head goes, do not let it touch you.
@hal-stewart
