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Listeners' Fantasies |
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Phantoms - Part One
by farmingannie
 An unsettling tale from the Fantasy Archers topic of .
Helen paused mid sentence in the book she was reading on 'Meditation in Pregnancy'. Something was wrong. She looked around, but the room appeared normal. Despite that, there was something she could not define that differed from the normal atmosphere. She felt somehow separated from her surroundings.
She put the book down, and went out to the kitchen, intending to make herself a nice soothing drink of warm milk. As she poured the milk into the pan, a wave of coldness swept over her. She shivered, and, once again, looked around her. There was, she reassured herself sharply, no one there. She poured her milk, and went upstairs with it to get another jumper. She had just caught sight of herself in the mirror when it happened.
There was a shadowy figure behind her - by the door, partially reflected in the mirror, but not clearly enough for her to see who it was. Had she left the door unlocked downstairs, she wondered, and someone had simply wandered in.
"Hello?" She queried, trying to keep her voice steady.
There was no reply, but as if in response, the figure appeared to step forward. Helen began to turn, but, as she did so, it felt as if an icy hand had gripped her stomach, and she doubled over instead. By the time she had reached the bed, sat down for what felt like an eternity, and regained her breath, the figure had gone.
She did not know how she knew, but she knew.
Downstairs, the phone began to ring, and she made her way to answer it, concentrating on her breathing to calm herself down. It would, after all, be good practice for when the baby was coming. As she thought of the baby, she realised that the icy feeling inside her was still there.
"Hello?" Helen said guardedly into the telephone.
"I'm sorry, Helen, can we talk?"
"Not... Not now, Bren, not really..."
"Are you all right? You sound..."
"I'm fine. I have to go now. Goodbye."
She slammed the phone down before she could regret it. She did not want anyone asking questions, not when she had no answers herself. She went back into the kitchen and regarded the little bit of extra milk left in the saucepan with distaste. It would obviously be cold: it had a skin on it.
She remembered, without warning, Greg burning her with the pan. It had been hot, so, hot, and now she was so cold. Could she be sickening for something? It was so basic, despite a niggling worry for the baby, that she laughed out loud of not thinking of it before. She hurried up to the bathroom and arrived, puffing. She allowed herself a moment for her temperature to return to normal and her breathing and heart rate to slow, and then she took her temperature.
"Hello, Helen."
She gasped and stared into the bathroom mirror so she did not have to turn round. The thermometer shattered in the sink.
***
Brenda frowned and took a deep breath. Tom wasn't going to thank her for this - he was always so busy these days.
"Hi Tom", she said, when he answered. She hadn't had to wait as long as sometimes.
"Bren? What's up?"
"Nothing. With me, anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"Tom... I was ringing her for a... chat... and she sounded really odd."
"Look, Bren, I'm going to have to go. Jazzer's just arrived with..."
"No! Not later, Tom, now. Go round and see her now, please..."
"But it's..." He sighed. "I'll see what I can do. I'll go round when I've... Bren? Bren, you're breaking up. Bren... Typical!" He put his mobile down in disgust. "Well done, Jazz, are those they?"
"Aye."
He and Jazzer got down to their latest enterprise, and time was ticking on. It was only appreciably later when Tom looked at his watch and remembered Helen...
***
Helen put her hand to her head, and it came away wet with blood. She must have hit it on the sink when she fell. I fainted, she realised. That was my first pregnancy-related faint! She was, of course, no stranger to fainting from lack of food, but this... This...
She remembered everything, though dizzily, and froze. Surely it had all been a figment of... She scrambled to her feet, and turned towards the door, where a shadowy figure was waiting for her. The milk that she had drunk seemed to curdle in her stomach and rose unbidden in her mouth like bile.
"How...?" She whispered, then vomited before she could stop herself.
***
"My God, Helen, whatever's the matter?" Tom hurried into the bathroom to catch his sister as she fell. "Helen? Helen, what's wrong?"
"John?" Helen whispered, looking straight through him. "What are you doing here?"
It was Tom's turn to feel sick. "It's Tom. Helen, it's me, Tom."
"Why's it taken you so long?" Helen asked.
"I know." He said, feeling guilty now that he realised Brenda had not being playing mind games. "I should have come here earlier but..."
"Oh, don't be silly, John, all I want to know is where you and Greg have been. Did you have a nice trip? I mean, it's a long day's journey into night, isn't it?"
"Of course." Helen heard the words without registering John's mouth move. "How are you, Helen?"
Here was someone else who wouldn't know. "I'M PREGNANT."
Her voice sounded too loud even to her own ears. She felt as if she was justifying herself rather than telling her glad news.
"Are you sure?"
"What?"
"I know, but do you?"
"What are you talking about, John? This is crazy."
Like an echo of her own voice, Helen heard something very distantly. She cocked her head to listen to it, but the words, and name, did not make sense.
"Mum? Mum, it's Tom. I'm with Helen… I think she's going crazy…"
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