The Witch Is Back by H. P. Mallory Read Free Book Online

glanced over at the clock again and realized two minutes had gone by.
    I heard something. I know I did
, I told myself, shaking my head in wonder.
    Just go back to sleep
, came the indifferent response from that side of myself I mostly didn’t care to hear from.
    Where are you?
    It was the voice again. Glancing around in the darkness, searching for a corner where someone could be hiding, could be concealed by the night, I suddenly realized that the voice was coming from my head. Granted, I had the habit of talking to myself—usually arguing with myself—but this was different. This was clearly a man’s voice and, what was more, it had an English accent.
    WTF?
    I will find you, Jolie
, the voice continued.
    I wasn’t sure if I should respond, thinking it would seem completely crazy for me to do so. I mean, the fact that there was a random, disembodied voice floating through my head was probably reason enough for most people to commit themselves to the local loony ward.
    Can you hear me?
the voice asked.
    I didn’t respond, didn’t want to encourage the ravings of my lunatic mind. My heart was now pounding through me and sweat was beading along my forehead.
    Jolie? Can you hear me?
    I clamped my eyes shut tightly and shook my head, telling myself not to respond. Nope, instead I would just ignore the voice and it would eventually go away and I could get back to sleep.
    Just ignore the voice and go back to sleep. It sounded like the perfect prescription.
    Jolie?
    Maybe the voice wouldn’t quit, wouldn’t give up untilI acknowledged it. And then the hope struck me that maybe in admitting to the existence of the voice, my frazzled mind would be satisfied and give me a break.
    Yes! Yes, I can hear you
, I thought the words finally, my tone panicked at the same time that it was anxious.
    I’m coming for you soon
, the voice continued.
So please don’t worry
.
    You aren’t real
. I thought the words, shaking my head again, as I tried to convince myself there wasn’t a ghost in my room, or in my head. No, I’d just eaten something the night before—something that was bad and was now giving me hallucinations.
You’re just a figment of my imagination
.
    The voice didn’t respond right away. It was as if it was thinking, pondering what to say next.
    This is ridiculous!
I thought to myself.
The voice can’t think! And moreover, it’s not like it’s someone else’s voice in your head. That’s impossible. It’s your stupid brain making you think it’s someone else’s voice in your head. God, you must be losing your mind!
    I’m sorry I upset you
, the voice responded finally.
Of course you don’t remember what’s happened. I don’t know what I was bloody well thinking
.
    What is wrong with me?
I thought and dropped my head into my hands, a sob tearing at my throat. “Stop talking!” I yelled at myself, begging the voice to recede, even as I wondered how my brain had concocted something so real, so believably British.
    There’s nothing wrong with you, Jolie. This is just a dream. Close your eyes and go back to sleep and when you wake in the morning, you won’t remember any of it
.
    Something funny happened then. I felt my eyelids go heavy, as if the voice had issued a command that my body couldn’t help but obey. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to lie down, to lose myself to sleep.
    Who are you?
I said the words in my head, even as Iclosed my eyes and felt the satin of the pillowcase beneath my cheek.
    Sleep, Jolie, and forget this ever happened
.
    At the end of the following Monday, I managed to locate a real estate agent, and by the middle of the week, the agent and I had narrowed down the list of housing possibilities for Sinjin to two houses and a condo, all of which seemed promising. All three properties were maybe five minutes from my house, which had been entirely by chance rather than design … no, seriously, I mean it.
    I was exhausted after viewing so many places but also pretty excited about