When Mom Wants Me to Join Her in Death

It felt like my heart had been bound by a thousand ropes attached to a block of lead. The crushing weight yanked me out of sleep, and my eyes snapped open.

I stared around at the all-too-familiar bedroom, and the realization slammed into me—I'd come back to life.

I picked up my phone and the screen lit up, showing it was 4:00 am.

A faint gray line had already appeared along the horizon outside the window.

Thinking about how I'd been rushed into the ICU in my previous life, I immediately called my sister, Claire Dawson.

"Claire! Stop whatever you're doing right now!"

Her reply came through between ragged breaths and the edge of a sob.

"I can't, Maeve! Mom showed up in my dream! She said if I don't reach the top of Mount Mistwood before sunrise, those evil spirits will tear her apart!

"I know you're worried about me, but I can't just sit here and do nothing while Mom's being pushed around! Anyway, I have to go. The sun's coming up in less than an hour. If I don't make it by then, it'll be too late!"

The call cut off, leaving only the cold beep in my ear.

Then, my perfectly healthy heart twisted sharply, as if someone had grabbed it and wrung it out. Pain rolled through me until I doubled over.

I clutched at my chest, and my mind was racing.

My mom, Margaret Hale, had always been deeply spiritual. Claire grew up with her and ended up believing in spirits just as firmly.

When Claire told me Mom had appeared in her dream, I thought it was just her missing Mom too much.

Besides, Claire was perfectly healthy and had never shown any sign of heart issues.

So, even as I was being taken into the hospital, it never occurred to me that what was happening to me might have anything to do with Claire climbing the mountain.

The idea that her injuries could somehow transfer onto me was ridiculous.

I told myself it was just the shock of losing my mother so suddenly. I thought that my body had simply given out under the grief.

But as things kept happening, it became obvious that I was paying the price for everything Claire did to herself.

My gaze dropped to my arm, and a crazy idea flashed through my mind.

I squeezed my eyes shut, braced myself, and slammed my forearm down on the sharp edge of the wooden desk with all my strength.

A sharp, clean crack rang in my ears. My heart seized hard in my chest, as if it were giving one final warning.

The double hit of pain was too much. My vision blurred, and I blacked out.