Stolen Dreams by Terri Reid Read Free Book Online

when he comes by to pick
up his check,” Rosie suggested.
    Mary silently bristled slightly at Rosie’s suggestion.   Just because she was pregnant was no reason
for her not to be able to handle some loud-mouthed bully.   She didn’t need Bradley’s help to run her own
business.
    But she smiled at Rosie when she replied. “Well, I’ll keep
that in mind,” she said. “But I’m sure Mr. Atkinson is more bark than bite.”

Chapter Eleven

 
    Mary snuggled against Bradley and allowed herself to relax,
concentrating on breathing slowly and evenly.   Their bedroom was dimly lit and she could feel sleep beginning to
overtake her.   She started thinking about
the nightmare, picturing herself there and reminding herself that she was in
charge, she was in control. This was the fourth night she had tried lucid
dreaming.   After taking Gracie’s advice
and not overthinking, she seemed to be able to gain a little more control. Every
night it seemed that she was getting closer to a break-through, but she never
seemed to quite get full control of her dream as Gracie had advised her.
    “I need to do this,” she whispered.
    Bradley leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Why
don’t you try to relax this time,” he suggested. “Just take a walk through your
dream like it’s a movie. You’ve been there before, and now you know you don’t
have anything to be afraid of.”
    She took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. No
pressure,” she said. “Okay, just a walk.”
    She closed her eyes, breathed in the lavender on her pillow
and let her mind drift.   “Take a walk,”
she whispered. “Just take a walk.”
    The room was dark, and
Mary was back in the middle of her nightmare. She moved forward tentatively,
trying to find an exit door or a light. She didn’t feel afraid. “I’m in charge.
I’m in control,” she repeated to herself as she investigated her surroundings.
      A low sound, like the thrum of a bass note,
was pulsing in the background over some hidden speaker system. She remembered
that sound and realized it made her anxious.   “I don’t like that sound,” she said. “Let’s change the channel to soft
rock.”
    Suddenly the thrumming
stopped and soft music floated throughout the house. “Cool,” she said with a
smile.
    Continuing forward,
she heard the sound she’d been waiting for, soft and whispered in the distance,
the sound of a child’s cry.
    Dismissing caution,
she hurried forward towards the source of the sound. Running down dark corridors
that turned and twisted, she became even more frustrated. “I really need the
lights to be turned on,” she said aloud.   Suddenly, the dark halls were filled with light.
    She looked
around.   The house was more like a
dormitory with a number of small doors opening up to the long hallway.   There were religious plaques and pictures on
the walls.   But at the end of the
hallway, the window was encased with metal bars.
    She found herself at
the staircase and jogged down the stairs, listening for the cry. Finally, she
arrived at the door at the far end of a narrow hall. Light flooded out from
beneath the door and around the sides into the dark hallway.
    She grasped the
doorknob, but the door itself seemed to be shrinking. “Stop shrinking,” she
commanded the door, and it obeyed. “Unlock the door.”
    The door opened up and
Mary stepped through.   In the corner of
the room was a young woman dressed in a black dress with a white apron over
it.   Her eyes were filled with tears and
she turned to Mary with a look of desperation.
    “They’re taking my
baby,” she cried. “They’re taking my baby and they didn’t even let me say
goodbye.”
    Mary looked ahead and
saw women dressed in long, black dresses carrying a swaddle of blankets and
hurrying from the room. “Stop,” she called out. “Stop this instant.”
    But the women didn’t
stop; they carried the infant away into the shadows.
    “They took my baby,
and I never saw