“Come on we’ve got to find her!” Leigh once again pulled Geoff behind her. She wasn’t quite sure why. Trailing behind them were…
Hola and Misha
Right, Misha was the guy Corby had started talking to in the kitchen before things went really wacky. Leigh wasn’t sure exactly why she was so anxious to find Corby. Yes she did. Leigh flew down the stairs. Corby was a kid, like she was once, in need of friends. Corby didn’t deserve to die, just because some strange shadow decided she should. That’s not how life should be.
Leigh stopped at the door to the basement stairs. If it had sunk through the floor it would have to go past here. Or had it already? Leigh put her hand on the door.
“CORBY!” she screamed before flinging open the door.
Down the stairs she went and through the rooms; calling for Corby with Hola. Geoff and Misha were strangely silent. At least Misha was until Leigh went for the door with junk piled against it.
He quickly stepped in front of her. “Not in there.”
Leigh stared at him. “But what if she’s in there?”
“She’s not.” Leigh turned at Hola’s sob and quickly rushed to where Corby lay.
There was no sign of the shadow that had attacked her. There seemed to be no life in her. Still Leigh rushed over. Kneeling she put her knees under Corby’s head. Leigh stroked the girl’s hair, while softly saying her name over and over. Hola held one of Corby’s hands. Geoff kept trying to say something but couldn’t and Misha seemed to get more and more anxious as time passed.
“Look, can we bring her upstairs?” Misha finally spoke after his umpteenth round of pacing.
“I agree.” Geoff finally said something.
“Fine,” Leigh muttered as she began to pick Corby up. The two men started to help her, but she brushed them off. “If I can pick up a three hundred pound motorcycle off its side, I think I can carry Corby.”
As Leigh trudged up the stairs, Hola in front to open doors, and the boys in back in case she fell, she was thankful for her taller than average height, which made the trip easier. At last they made the couch. Leigh gently laid Corby upon it and positioned herself to sit, with Corby’s head on her lap. She doubled over so her forehead touched Corby’s.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “There was nothing wrong with what you did. You saw my past that I had repressed. Anyone who had been there could have done that. If it’s anyone fault it’s mine. I shouldn’t have repressed it. We can not be who we are without our past. Oh Corby, I’m sorry.”
Leigh let her tears fall gently on the girl’s cheeks. She found it so easy to become attached to people; like Geoff. Leigh raised her head to look at him. “I am sorry for yelling at you on the stairs,” she said. His image, blurred by the tears, looked oddly familiar. She reached one hand out to him, the other continued to caress Corby’s hair.