Beautiful Nightmares (The Asylum Trilogy) by Lauren Hammond Read Free Book Online Page B

smiled at her and started chewing on my hair. That time, she gawked at me for seconds that felt like minutes and after she walked away even I had to admit to myself that I was one step closer to the precipice of madness.
     
    I know that I am a little nutty.
     
    That my screws are most definitely loose.
     
    That I’ve been cooped up and caged in for so long that I’m not sure when or if I’ll ever know what it’s like to be free again.
     
    I’m afraid that I’ll start to forget what it feels like for the wind to whip through my hair.
    That I won’t remember what it’s like to feel the warmth from the sun on my cheeks.
     
    I tuck those thoughts away for now and remind myself that I need to uncover the mystery of my past before focusing on anything else. I’m hoping that once I do then I can finally focus on the one thing that I’ve been wanting to do since I arrived here a second time.
     
    And that is…
     
    To set myself free.

 
    Chapter Eleven
     
    ~Before~
     
    I know Elijah had reservations about becoming a father. I know that most of his reservations stem from the fact that he had an awful, awful relationship with his own father. He never goes into too much detail involving their relationship, but I remember one story in particular when Elijah mentioned his father locking him in his bedroom for twenty-four hours without feeding him or letting him out to use the restroom. After hearing that story, I never inquired about his relationship with his father again.
    But, even though Elijah had doubts about becoming a parent, I never did.
    I always believed that despite his terrifying childhood that he would make a good father.
    And I was right.
    I watch him a lot.
    When he’s with Willow.
    He doesn’t know I’m watching, but I always peek into the nursery when he’s in there. He’s so careful and soft and I never thought I’d ever be able to say that ‘being soft’ was a part of my husband’s nature, but Willow seemed to change something in him.
    Sometimes, I think that the life I’m living now is an illusion.
    I have everything I’ve ever wanted.
    I am a mother.
     
    I have a child.
     
    I am married to a wonderful, wonderful man.
     
    I never thought I’d be able to say those things to myself.
     
    Willow has been fussing for hours.
     
    I rock her against my chest.
     
    I sing her a song Mommy used to sing me. “Little bird, little bird spread your wings and fly. Little bird, little bird soar through the sky.”
     
    Elijah has been working the midnight shift so I hate to wake him and have him take her for a drive.
     
    We usually take turns. When we first met, he told me he didn’t want kids. I laugh at that now. And I think part of the reason he said he didn’t want to be a father is because he was terrified of turning out like his own.
     
    He’s an amazing fa ther and Willow, who is only eight months old, has him wrapped around her tiny finger.
     
    Willow cries a lot. The pediatrician says its colic and the only way I can get her to stop fussing is by taking her for a drive in the car. The gentle hum of the engine is like a lullaby for my beautiful baby girl and it amazes me how she can look so different when she’s sleeping.
     
    I’ve been driving now for almost a year and I don’t think I’ll ever get over the liberating feeling that comes with it. I love to drive with the windows down. I love feeling the wind tousle my hair. I love how the car makes me feel like I’m a bird and that I can fly anywhere.
     
    Willows’ cries turn into shrieks and I start bouncing her on my hip. “All right, all right,” I tell her in a sing-song voice. “Mommy is moving as fast as she can.”
     
    After grabbing my purse, the car keys, and buckling Willow into her car seat, I turn the car around and speed down the driveway. And within minutes, I check on Willow through the mirror and she’s already fast asleep.
    I admire my beautiful daughter who resembles her father in more ways than she