Take a break and give your soul what it needs - Audrey Kitching

Ah, Sunday. The most boring day of the week. Nothing to do, nothing to watch on TV. Everything opens late and closes early.

I had the weirdest dream last night. The same girl as before, Aubrey, was standing in front of me. I could make out her features more clearly this time. She had slightly pointed ears, almond-shaped green eyes, and a beauty mark above the left side of her lip.

Last time she wouldn't speak to me, which I assumed was what would happen again. But I was wrong.

I looked around, partially expecting to see Mr. Haggerty since she seems to have some sort of connection to him.

After a few moments of looking around, I heard, "You won't find him." I whipped around, brows raised. "You're looking for your teacher, correct?" I slowly nodded. "He won't be joining us tonight."

Okay. This just got really creepy, really fast.

"Your name is Aubrey, right? What do you want from me?"

She refused to answer my question. "Don't help him. He is one of them. He will betray you."

"What are you talking about?"

Then I remembered Mary asking me to help Damon.

"Are you talking about Damon?"

"He cannot be trusted," Aubrey repeated with a sense of urgency in her voice. "He was born of them. He will become the same. He cannot be trusted."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said as fear started creeping up my spine.

Aubrey's eyes seemed to pierce through my soul as she continued speaking cryptically about betrayal and danger lurking ahead if I were not careful.

Suddenly, a group of women appeared behind Aubrey—all different ages and ethnicities but sharing the same haunting gaze that sent shivers down my spine.

"What is this? Who are they?" My voice trembled as panic started setting in.

"We are those who have fallen victim to their deceit," one woman said softly, yet with an underlying tone of warning.

As they surrounded me, their presence felt suffocating and ominous, like a dark cloud looming over my head.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my wrist tightly and yanked me back as if trying to prevent an escape from this eerie encounter.

"You must listen, or you will end up like me, like us." Aubrey's voice echoed with a haunting tone as she gestured towards a group of women behind her, all bearing similar ethereal qualities.

"What the? What is this?" My heart raced with fear and confusion as the women stood silently watching our interaction unfold. Their gaze bore into my soul with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

"This is your future if you're not careful." Aubrey's words lingered ominously in the air as she continued holding onto my arm firmly, despite my futile attempts at breaking free from her grasp.

Just when it seemed like there was no escape from this nightmare, a bright light illuminated the scene, causing everyone to shield their eyes in surprise.

As I struggled against Aubrey's hold on me, a bright light appeared and a voice cut through the darkness like a knife: "Let her go!"

Wait, I knew that voice...

"Mary?" My voice trembled as realization dawned upon me.

"I won't say it again." Mary's tone was stern and unwavering as she demanded Aubrey release me.

Reluctantly but obediently, Aubrey let go of my wrist, and Mary turned towards me with eyes filled with sorrow and determination. As Mary confronted Aubrey and the other women with words laden with hidden truths and warnings about Damon's true nature, I stood there frozen in place, trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation unfolding before me—a battle between forces beyond my understanding where loyalty and trust were mere illusions masking darker intentions lurking beneath the surface.

In that moment of uncertainty and fear gripping my heart like icy claws, Mary turned towards me with pleading eyes filled with unspoken emotions, begging for my help in protecting Damon from unknown dangers lurking on his path ahead—disadvantages that even she couldn't fully comprehend or control despite her maternal instincts guiding her every step along this treacherous journey into darkness where betrayal awaited at every turn.

As my dream began fading away into darkness once more, leaving only echoes of unanswered questions swirling around in my mind, one thing became clear amidst all uncertainties: the line between dreams and reality had blurred into a chilling nightmare where trust was fragile, alliances were uncertain, and destinies intertwined in ways beyond comprehension...

I was brought out of my flashback by rapping on the window.

Slowly getting up, I made my way over, pulling back the curtain and unlocking the latch.

"Hey Jon," I said as he let himself in. He was dressed in a nice button-down black shirt and dark jeans.

"What are you up to?"

"Just thinking." I sat back down on my bed, with him joining me. "There's not much to do on Sunday."

"True. But isn't Florence's baby shower today?"

I jumped up. "How could I forget?!"

My mom reminded me of everything last night.

Florence was one of my mother's employees at her bakery, and she had become like family to us.

"Okay. This case is beginning to mess with my head."

"Beginning?" Jon teased, chuckling to himself.

"Ha ha. Very funny. Don't make me grab my bat and live up to my namesake."

"Okay, okay. I surrender." He relented before following me into my closet.

I sighed as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to decide what to wear to Florence's baby shower. Jon sat on my bed, watching me with a hint of amusement.

"Come on, Harley, we don't have all day," he teased.

I rolled my eyes and continued rummaging through my closet until Jon finally picked out an outfit for me: a black ruffle spaghetti strap top with red roses and matching black shorts with a billowy skirt attached. It was perfect for the occasion—not too revealing but still stylish.

I began pulling off the shirt I'd slept in when Jon said, "Whoa! What are you doing?"

"What? Changing? What's the matter? We change in front of each other all the time. Okay, not all the time. But you know what I mean."

He laughed, though it sounded skittish.

I furrowed my brow as I pulled on the top he'd help choose, but I was struggling with doing up the ties on the back. "Hey. Can you do me up?"

"What?!" He exclaimed.

I turned around, seeing him wide-eyed. "My top. Can you help me do it up?"

"Oh, right. Sure." I turned around, holding my hair up as he began tying the back. I'd decided to just leave my hair in its natural curls.

"I'm just glad we have a little bit of a day off. All this investigating the disappearing girls and Miranda's murder has really begun to take a toll on me. I keep seeing them in my dreams," I confessed to Jon.

His eyes widened in surprise. "Again?"

I nodded solemnly. "Last night, Aubrey visited me again. Only this time did she speak to me. She seemed shocked that I knew who she was. There were other women there too, but they just stood there, watching with hollowed eyes."

Jon leaned forward, intrigued by my words. "That is really freaky. Why do you think she keeps contacting you?"

"I have no idea," I admitted with a shiver running down my spine. "First it had something to do with Mr. Haggerty, where she watched him die, and I could swear, I sensed relief. Now she's warning me not to help Damon."

Jon raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he listened intently to every word I said.

"Did you tell her about Mary?" he asked.

I nodded slowly before continuing with a troubled expression etched on my face, "Yes, and then guess who showed up."

"Mary for $200, Alex."

I slapped him playfully. "You're ridiculous. But yes, Mary appeared in the dream too."

I showed him the bruise on my wrist where Aubrey had grabbed me in the dream—evidence of how vivid and real these encounters felt.

"The dream felt so real—like an out-of-body experience," I confessed.

Jon pondered for a moment before suggesting we look up more information online about Aubrey Jacobson and her connection to Willow Creek.

As we delved deeper into our search, a headline caught our attention: "Missing Local Girl Found Dead."

"That's her connection," Jon muttered as we both realized that Aubrey was one of the missing girls who had disappeared years ago, shedding light on why she might be reaching out to me through dreams.

"We need to dig deeper into this," Jon urged as he began searching for psychological interpretations of recurring dreams involving deceased individuals like Aubrey.

I showed him the bruise on my wrist where Aubrey had grabbed me in the dream—evidence of how vivid and real these encounters felt.

"The dream felt so real—like an out-of-body experience," I confessed.

Jon pondered for a moment before suggesting we look up more information online about Aubrey Jacobson and her connection to Willow Creek.

As we delved deeper into our search, a headline caught our attention: "Missing Local Girl Found Dead."

"That's her connection," Jon muttered as we both realized that Aubrey was one of the missing girls who had disappeared years ago, shedding light on why she might be reaching out to me through dreams.

"We need to dig deeper into this," Jon urged as he began searching for psychological interpretations of recurring dreams involving deceased individuals like Aubrey.

In an attempt to make sense of these haunting visions, Jon began scouring psychological interpretations of dreams while I watched intently over his shoulder.

"Maybe this will shed some light on what they're trying to tell you," Jon suggested optimistically.

The rain pelted against the windows of my bedroom, creating a rhythmic sound that matched the pounding in my chest.

I watched with bated breath as he scrolled through various psychological analyses and theories, hoping to find some semblance of understanding or closure regarding these inexplicable nightmares that had plagued me for so long.

Just then, a soft knock sounded on my door.

"Harley, hun. Are you getting ready?" My mother called from outside.

"Yes mom. I'm almost done," I replied as Jon, my best friend since childhood, sat on the edge of my bed.

"Alright. You and Jon come down when you're ready. The baby shower is about to begin," she said before retreating back to the kitchen.

"How does she always know I'm here?" Jon asked with a grin.

"She must have a gift," I returned as we exchanged knowing looks. "Or maybe she hears you coming in through the window."

With a chuckle, we quickly finished getting ready and made our way downstairs, where my mom was bustling around in the kitchen, making sure everything was in order for the event.

"You need help, mom?" I offered as Jon stood by my side.

"That's alright. If you wouldn't mind helping me carry everything to the van, that would be great," she replied with a warm smile.

Florence's father had lent us his work van to transport all the desserts my mom had prepared for the baby shower.

The van soon brimmed with an assortment of homemade delights—rice krispie squares adorned in blue and pink chocolate coatings, onesie-shaped cookies in matching hues, and other assorted treats that showcased my mother's culinary prowess. It was evident that she had poured her heart into creating these delicacies for Florence's celebration.

We grabbed trays of cupcakes and brownies, homemade rice krispie treats, and themed cookies, while my mom carefully carried out her masterpiece—a stunning cake adorned with delicate fondant decorations.

With each careful step she took towards the van, it was clear that this confection held not just physical weight but also emotional significance for her.

As we arrived at the banquet hall for Florence's baby shower, the excitement in the air was palpable. My mom's bakery had pulled out all the stops, and I couldn't wait to see Florence's reaction to the spread of delicious treats.

Florence was a kind-hearted woman who had been working at my mom's bakery since its humble beginnings. She had become like family to us, and we were thrilled to celebrate this new chapter in her life.

The banquet hall was decked out in shades of pink and blue, with delicate decorations adorning every surface.

Florence was moving around, carrying on conversations, and double-checking everything, her belly on full display in the beautiful blue summer dress she wore. Her brown hair was loose, held back by a beautiful pale blue rose flower crown. Clearly, she thought it was a boy.

Florence greeted us with a radiant smile that lit up the room. She looked stunning in her dress, her baby bump clearly visible beneath the fabric. It was hard not to be swept up in her joy and excitement.

"Harley! So glad you could make it!"

I smiled back and handed her a gift wrapped in pink paper. "Congratulations again, Flo. You're going to be an amazing mom."

She hugged me tightly before ushering us inside and instructing us where to leave the desserts.

Jon and I helped set up the dessert table, arranging cupcakes, brownies, cookies, and other sweet treats with care. The colourful display was a sight to behold, and I knew Florence would be overjoyed.

The room buzzed with anticipation as more guests began to arrive, their laughter mingling with the soft music playing in the background. The atmosphere was charged with excitement and love, creating a warm cocoon of happiness around us all.

I glanced around at the familiar faces of our friends from the bakery—Jenna with her infectious laughter, Elisa with her kind smile, Katerina with her bubbly personality, and Faith, who always brought an air of calmness wherever she went—all here to celebrate Florence's impending motherhood.

Jon grabbed two glasses of punch from the table and handed one to me. "Cheers," he said with a grin.

We clinked our glasses together before joining in on the conversations happening around us. It felt good to be surrounded by friends and laughter after a long week of work and school.

As we indulged in cupcakes and brownies, Jon leaned over and whispered mischievously, "I think your mom has outdone herself this time."

I chuckled softly before responding, "Yeah, she always goes all out for special occasions like this."

The party continued, with games and laughter filling the room as everyone celebrated Florence and her soon-to-arrive bundle of joy. It was heartwarming to see how loved she was by everyone around her.

But as the time came for Florence to cut into her cake and reveal the gender of her baby, a hush fell over the room.

As my mom wheeled out the masterpiece she had spent hours creating, gasps of awe filled the room.

The cake was a work of art—delicate fondant roses cascading down its sides, intricate designs adorning every layer of alternating pink and blue. And at its centre sat a tiny pair of baby booties made from sugar paste—one pink and one blue.

Florence's eyes widened in surprise as she took it all in, tears glistening in her eyes. "It's perfect," she whispered hoarsely, reaching out to touch the delicate petals of one of the roses.

With bated breath, Florence sliced into the cake, revealing layers of pink frosting inside. Cheers erupted around us as it was announced that she was expecting a baby girl.

Tears welled up in Florence's eyes as she hugged everyone around her, thanking them for their love and support. In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who cared so deeply for her, it felt like pure magic.

And as Jon whispered in my ear how happy he was for Florence and how lucky we were to have such amazing people in our lives, I couldn't help but agree wholeheartedly. This day would be etched in our memories forever—a celebration of new beginnings and unbreakable bonds forged through love and laughter.

As I stood in the corner of the banquet hall, watching the lively scene unfold before me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease lingering at the back of my mind. Today was supposed to be a joyous occasion, a celebration of new life and happiness as we gathered to honour Florence, one of my mother's employees at the bakery.

But despite the cheerful chatter and laughter that filled the air, my thoughts kept drifting back to the case that had consumed my every waking moment for weeks now. The mysterious disappearances of young women in our town had haunted me, their faces appearing in my dreams like silent ghosts begging for justice.

Beside me stood Jon, my best friend and confidant, who had been trying to convince me to take a break from my relentless pursuit of the truth. He knew how deeply I cared about these missing girls and how determined I was to uncover what had happened to them.

"I'm just relieved you agreed to take a day off," Jon said softly, his eyes reflecting concern. "You've been working on this case non-stop since you found out about it."

I nodded absently, torn between wanting to enjoy this rare moment of respite and feeling guilty for letting go even for a day. But Jon was right—today was not about solving mysteries or seeking justice. It was about celebrating life and love with those closest to us.

"I know," I replied with a sigh. "These women can't rest until someone knows what happened to them. Maybe that person is me. Maybe that's why they keep visiting me in my dreams."

Jon placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Maybe, Harley. But today we're here for Florence and her baby-to-be. Let's put aside our worries and indulge in your mother's delicious treats without any distractions."

With a reluctant smile, I followed Jon into the crowd, pushing aside thoughts of dark alleys and hidden secrets as we joined in the festivities. For hours on end, I immersed myself in laughter and conversation, savouring each moment as if it were a precious treasure.

Children played gleefully around us while adults indulged in delectable pastries and savoury dishes.

But deep down, beneath the facade of smiles and small talk, I knew that when night fell once again, I would return to my solitary quest for answers, haunted by visions of lost souls reaching out from beyond the grave until justice was served at last.

Florence & Michael