The Haunting of Anna McAlister Read Online Free Page A

Jeffrey said “If you did you would dress better.”  
    Jeffrey knew that Stacy was not a lesbian. He just thought she dressed like one.
    “And for sure you’d have more men.”
    “Fag bag,” Stacy raised her coffee cup and toasted Jeffrey.
    “Butch bitch,” Jeffrey toasted back.  
    It was a typical morning in the coffee room for everyone, except Anna.  
    “Hello?” Anna said. “I think I had the floor.”
    “Well you certainly had it this morning, honey,” Jeffrey squirmed just a little.  
    Anna had started her story by telling them about what she and Tom ended up doing in the dining room.  
    “Please, Jeffrey,” Anna said. “You’re making it really hard for me to finish.”
    Before Jeffrey could say anything, Stacy reached over and stuffed a hand full of napkins into his mouth.
    “Continue,” Stacy said as Jeffrey started frantically spitting out chunks of napkin. “And hurry.”  
    Anna tried as hard as she could to remember something about the night before. She knew she was trying to remember a nightmare so real that it was probably best left forgotten. But, she just couldn’t stop being afraid, and that scared her.  
    Anna had hoped that the florescent reality of work, and the playful bickering of her friends would help. She had learned long ago that sometimes it’s a good idea to step away from a troubling situation in order to take a long look at it. In this case the technique was failing miserably. There were bits and pieces of memories from the night before, but nothing more. It was like trying to start putting together a jig saw puzzle with all of the corner and edge pieces missing.  
    Still, Anna had to try. “There was someone, or some thing in the room. I was on the bed and it was coming at me.”
    “Tell me about it,” Jeffrey’s mouth was now mostly napkin free and moving fast. “I’ve certainly been there and done that. . . a lot.”
    “No, Jeffrey, you don’t understand. I think it grabbed me and held me down. Then it hurt me. I just don’t remember.”
    Jeffrey wanted to again relate, but Stacey’s balled up, napkin-filled, fist convinced him to speak not and forever hold his peace. . . at least until she dropped the napkins.
    “It’s just not there,” Anna shook her head. She shivered as she tried to force her conscious mind back into the world of unconscious memories. “I think there was this smell. This horrible, awful smell. And pain. Incredible pain.”
    For a moment Anna felt as if she were encased in solid ice, but then it was gone. She bit her lower lip. “So what do you think?’
    “Hell of a dream,” Stacey said.  
    “Agreed,” Jeffrey stated. “And that’s from one who has had more than his share of, shall we say, unusual dreams.”
    “But if it was all a dream,” Anna said. “Then how do you explain these?”
    Anna quickly got up and locked the lunchroom door. She then lifted her turtle neck sweater over her head.  
    “Don’t!” Jeffrey screamed. He put his hands over his eyes and his head down on the table. The last thing Jeffrey wanted to see were breasts. They frightened him.  
    “She’s wearing a bra, jerk-off,” Stacy laughed. “Besides a little tit won’t kill you.”
    “Speak for yourself.”
    “Would you two please look at me,” Anna was almost in tears.
    Both Stacy and Jeffrey stared at what Anna was pointing out. She traced a line of small, but definite purple bruises that dotted a path from her neck to her left breast and down her belly. She started to undo her slacks, but Jeffrey screamed that he had seen enough. He said he fully believed that the bruises continued on to a place that scared him even more than breasts, and that he didn’t need to finish the journey.
    “Oh my God,” Stacy said. “Did Tom do that to you?”
    “He says he didn’t,” Anna shrugged. “And anyway, these aren’t, like, hickeys or something. They’re different. They hurt.”
    Stacy moved to Anna and gently touched one of the marks on