The Curse of 1977 (Book 2)

It was like someone had splashed a bucket of hot, scolding water all over her face. Lynnette awoke inside her bed with such a
jolt that she had to catch her breath that had been eluding her in her night terrors.
Soaking wet and crying, the young woman sat up in her bed clutching her heaving chest while tears dripped down from her eyes.
Lynnette breathed in and out so rapidly that she had to force herself to calm down; before long, the inane beating of her heart
gradually ceased, but not to a level where the woman was satisfied.
She reached over to her nightstand and yanked out the drawer from underneath before clamoring for the bottle that was within.
Feverishly, she twisted open the bottle which in turn caused tiny pills to spill up and out of the bottle and all over the bed.
Infuriated, Lynnette quickly gathered as many pills as she could grasp before stuffing a multitude into her mouth all at once.
Before she knew it, she was on her knees, allowing the pills to take their effect. Lynnette's body began to sway back and forth on
the bed. Her tank top shirt was saturated in sweat. She happened to notice that her panties were wet from both sweat and urine.
Before she could even attempt a simple move, her body began twitching and jerking before it ended up falling off the bed and
onto the wood floor. Lynnette laid there trying her best to keep the "shakes" from taking full control of her. She grabbed her body
all over in the hopes that she wouldn't awaken anyone else in the house.
After nearly ten minutes of commotion, her entire body went still. Lynnette remained on the floor for a moment or two more
before she looked up at her clock to notice that it was 2:57 am.
As though she had just fought a battle, Lynnette slowly hoisted her body up by the aid of the bed's railing and sat herself down
onto the mattress. She was still sweating profusely, but at least the convulsions had ended for the evening. Once she was able
to regain her bearings, she got up and stepped over to the window that overlooked the backyard and alley. All she could see was
the bright safety light that her father had installed on the back porch shine like a stadium's beam. Beyond that was nothing but
nighttime darkness and sounds.
The woman rooted around a bit longer before she yanked the curtains back and walked herself out of the bedroom and into the
blackness of the hallway. She stood and viewed all the bedroom doors before she carried on down the hall to the final door. With
a shaking left hand, Lynnette twisted the knob and opened the door to find Isaiah fast asleep in his bed. She stood at the
threshold momentarily before stepping inside and standing over the resting child. Her body wanted to shake, but she wouldn't
allow it to be.
She just stood, watched and listened as her son snored away peacefully before he suddenly turned onto his side. Soon, Lynnette
began to discover something very peculiar, she saw her own two hands raise and extend towards the boy. Inside her head was

still the nightmare that had disturbed her slumber. She didn't want to try and rationalize why her hands were slowly creeping
towards Isaiah's neck; all she knew was that something was compelling them both far beyond her own control.
With as much will power as she possessed, Lynnette pulled away. Before she knew it, she was backing out of the room and into
the hallway, all the while carrying a revolting frown on her face.
"What are you doing?" Lynnette's mother appeared all of the sudden from out of nowhere in the hallway.
Right there, Lynnette's body began shaking all over again, but only from sheer, stunned fright.
"What?" She stammered. "Mama, what are you doing up?"
Her mother stood down the hallway. All Lynnette could see was the woman's black silhouette, all of her other features were too
dark to view.
"Mama...what are you doing up?" Lynnette's voice rose.
"What are you doing in there?" Her mother asked in a more indignant tone.
By then, Lynnette was not only afraid, she was becoming even more frightened of her mother than she was of her nightmare.
"Mama, why don't you go back to bed?" Lynnette's voice faltered. "I was just checking on Isaiah."
"You need to be away from that child."
"What?" Lynnette began to slowly back up. "What are you talking about?"
For the longest time, Lynnette's mother would not respond. The woman just stood perfectly still, nearly hunchbacked only ten
feet away from Lynnette down the opposite end of the hallway.
"Stay away from him...he's not yours to take."
Lynnette, from head to toe, was perfectly solid. Her entire body was as stiff as the old wooden floor she was standing upon. It
was her mother, the voice let her know that much, but the woman's words were eerie and cryptic. The last thing Lynnette wanted
was to cut on the hallway light and see the woman's face.
She just watched as her mother turned and went back into her room, slamming the door behind her.

The very second her mother was out of sight, Lynnette's body saw fit to unloosen itself from the position it was in and race back
to her own bedroom. Lynnette shut the door and jumped right back into bed like a little child scurrying from a thunderstorm.
It was hot that early morning, nearly 80 degrees, and yet there she was, underneath her covers, praying for another nightmare to
take her mind away from her own mother.