Coming Home Again (A Coming Home Again Novel Book 1) by T.I. Lowe Read Free Book Online

my breath. I’m
choking. Gagging. Gasping…

 
    ~
~ ~

 
    My
trembling body nearly clears the bed in a jolt as the awful dream finally
releases me. It’s one of my many repeat nightmares. Asleep or awake, I can get
no peace. The only action I can muster is to lay here for a while, trying to
get my breathing and heart rate under control. I breathe deeply, trying to
chase the lingering ammonia and stench from my airway with the salty ocean air
filtering through the room. That pungent smell is one I will never be able to
forget. The whooshing sounds of the waves softly rolling onto the shore outside
filter in also from the open balcony door, so I place my focus there. I try to
conjure up the images of the night ocean as I concentrate on my breathing
exercises. I can see the ghostly white caps peeking from the water ever so
often and the twinkling night sky watching from overhead. Breathe in… Breathe out…
    Once I calm
down, I check the clock on my phone and disappointingly discover that I have
only slept for a few hours. I feel like I have already battled an entire
night’s sleep. I lick my dry lips and try to swallow a pasty swallow
uncomfortably. I’m parched, so I wearily grab a watered down drink and sling it
back, only to have my stomach protest. I dart to the bathroom just in time for
my body to exorcise the alcohol.
    After the
retching finally passes, I wash my mouth out with some complimentary mouthwash
by the sink, for which I’m thankful. My mouth tasted like a sewer. Fatigue
pushes my body onto the cool marble bathroom floor. It feels heavenly on my
fevered skin. Now I remember bitterly why I don’t drink. Stupid lesson learned —again .
    As I lay on
this bathroom floor, I can’t help but think about my sister and the reason
behind this nightmare I have just endured. She performed her own disappearing
act after the darkness of Evan Grey. Julia withered away at such a fast rate
that the rumor around town was she was sick with some type of cancer. My mother
did nothing to dispel the rumors either. She stayed so mad during this time in
our lives. It was the first time my sister had caused any disturbance to our
family, and it rubbed my mother wrong something fierce. Jean dared my father to
do anything about it, saying she was just being rebellious and would eat when
she got good and hungry. But I knew better. My sister did not intend to eat
ever again. She had made her mind up while lying up in that room and I knew
nothing was going to change it. I took matters into my own hands.
    There was
only one option, and that was to call Jean’s estranged parents. They had
spoiled her up until the grandbabies were born, when they realized the error of
their ways. That spoiled brat couldn’t see past herself to care for her own.
They encouraged my mother to be a better parent, and this earned them the boot
out of our lives. I had not seen them in well over six years by the time I made
that fateful phone call. Jean scheduled a spa appointment for an entire day’s
pampering that early spring day, saying all of the stress of Julia’s mess had
earned her the treat. Scared out of my mind, I arranged for my grandparents to
sneak Julia away. At that point, she was nothing more than bones and dried,
gray flesh. Her hair had thinned considerably too, and I had to fight the
overwhelming urge to be scared of the thing that my sister had become.
    I remember
them entering Julia’s room and my grandmother going to her knees at the first
sight of my sister. It was a memory filled with pity and absolute shame. She
finally picked herself up off the floor to make her way onto the bed. She lay
there holding my sister, crying, while I helped my grandfather pack a suitcase.
He spoke very few words, and I knew he was in shock at the sight of Julia also.
My grandfather finally encouraged my grandmother to release Julia so he could
gather her skeleton in his arms and carry her to their van. They both gave me a
sympathetic look as they