Sweet Cora Jean
Cora Jean Emerson, long time resident of Sunshine Retirement Home and favorite of all of the nurses, was tired. Lately, she'd been having bad dreams, even during her daily naps. She sat and looked through her picture albums as that usually relaxed her.
“How's my favorite sweetie pie today?”, Sue Lancaster asked as she entered Cora's room. She absolutely adored Cora, thought of her as family in fact. She was worried though because, lately, Cora had been lethargic and not her usually peppy self. She could see something was troubling her as her face held a worried look and her eyes, usually a sparking blue, were now dull as she looked up from her photo album.
“I'm ok,” Cora said, in a tone lacking her usually spunkiness.
“Well, I can tell that's a fib,” Sue replied, going over to Cora and kneeling next to her and putting her hand on her arm. “You can talk to me about anything, you know. You're like family Cora and if you aren't feeling well or if something's troubling you, I can help.”
Cora looked at Sue for a time, considering telling her what's been bothering her, about the dreams, but she couldn't. She knew from past experience to never talk about her special gift. People didn't understand and never would, not if they didn't have this same burden. No. She couldn't share this with anyone here. There were only a few people that would understand. Her daughter, grand-daughter and great-grand-daughter, all of whom knew what it was like to carry such a “gift”. A curse was what it was. Following each generation of women, skipping the men in her family completely.
She put a hand on Sue's, gave it a squeeze, and with more enthusiasm than she really felt, said, “I'm fine Sue. Really I am. I didn't sleep well, drank too much tea before bed and was up several times last night for potty runs.” She smiled, hoping to convince Sue that she was ok.
Sue frowned, shrugged and said, “Ok Cora. If you say so.” She stood, took Cora's temp and blood pressure as part of her normal routine and glanced at her photos. The one that caught her eye was one with several children, a very old black and white photo. She recognized Cora in the bunch, “Oh hey! I see you there,” pointing to a skinny girl with braids.
“Yes, that's me with my gang. Well not a gang like today. We never had that sort of thing back then. Lord no. Our gang used to have some grand adventures in our time. That all stopped one day when...,” she trailed off, deep in thought.
“Cora, are you ok?” Sue asked, concerned about her patient and friend.
Cora snapped out of the vision, one that she had locked away long ago, and shivered. “I'm fine. I promise,” she said with a smile.
Sue, concerned, left for the rest of her rounds. She promised herself that she would visit Cora again before her shift was over, just to check on her. Cora watched Sue leave, wishing she could have told her what was bothering her, what had her up nights. She knew though that it was a burden she couldn't share for fear that someone might go release the creature that had so long ago been sealed in its make-shift tomb. She shivered, as a cold that reached into her soul overtook her for a minute, and then looked back to the photo that Sue had pointed out. “Oh…that day,” she thought as images started filling her mind.
It had been warm, almost too warm with the humidity and no breeze. Cora, deep in her memories could almost feel the warm air clinging to her, making her clothes stick to her skin. In her mind, she heard her friends – Sophie Bryce, Mark Hills, Katherine Sims, Jimmy Garris, Mike Smith and Johnny Black – as though she were right there again. Laughing, giggling, care-free days. The morning this photo was taken was the last time the gang laughed and joked together. They were bored and it was Mark's idea to hunt the fabled monster Curakan. According to legend, it was time for Curakan to have awakened and be stalking his victims. There had been two unsolved murders already, and the town was abuzz with rumors of the dreaded Curakan.
Of course, she and her friends all thought it was nonsense cooked up by parents to scare children and keep them from straying too far into the woods. They were too old to believe in boogeyman stories. However, they loved to explore and check out haunted houses and debunk myths. The Curakan myth seemed like a good one to debunk.
In Cora Jean’s mind, she watched the movie of her past. Watched as her younger self went into the woods with her friends - her heartbeat starting to rise as she knew what that adventure held in store. Oh how she wished she could yell to them to stop. The mist was starting to form around them as she watched, helpless - her heart rate continuing to climb as she sat in helpless reverie. As she watched the mist form, she noticed some of the tendrils coming toward her. She felt odd this time, more “connected” to this dream.
Now, as she focused more on the mist, she felt something on her skin and looked down. Around her chair, a mist was forming, but that was impossible. She was indoors, in her room in Sunshine Retirement Home and mists didn’t come indoors. She felt something squeezing her ankle and saw the vague outline of a tendril in the mist. Her eyes widened and her heart rate quickened as beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Panic started to take its grip on her. Her clothes clung to her sweaty skin and she wet herself as she felt the monster from her past reaching out to her. It was then that fate stepped in and Sue walked back into the room.
“Cora, I just had to come…,” Sue stopped mid-sentence as she saw the state of her patient. She ran to her side, took her vitals and hit the alarm for assistance. Cora Jean, dear sweet Cora Jean was having a stroke. More nurses and the on-call doctor came running in. An ambulance was called as they did the necessary steps to get her comfortable and in a more stable condition. Her family was called as she was rushed to the hospital. In the rush, no one noticed the message Cora Jean had scrawled on the old photo while she still had the strength.
Sweet Cora Jean
Cora Jean Emerson, long time resident of Sunshine Retirement Home and favorite of all of the nurses, was tired. Lately, she'd been having bad dreams, even during her daily naps. She sat and looked through her picture albums as that usually relaxed her.
“How's my favorite sweetie pie today?”, Sue Lancaster asked as she entered Cora's room. She absolutely adored Cora, thought of her as family in fact. She was worried though because, lately, Cora had been lethargic and not her usually peppy self. She could see something was troubling her as her face held a worried look and her eyes, usually a sparking blue, were now dull as she looked up from her photo album.
“I'm ok,” Cora said, in a tone lacking her usually spunkiness.
“Well, I can tell that's a fib,” Sue replied, going over to Cora and kneeling next to her and putting her hand on her arm. “You can talk to me about anything, you know. You're like family Cora and if you aren't feeling well or if something's troubling you, I can help.”
Cora looked at Sue for a time, considering telling her what's been bothering her, about the dreams, but she couldn't. She knew from past experience to never talk about her special gift. People didn't understand and never would, not if they didn't have this same burden. No. She couldn't share this with anyone here. There were only a few people that would understand. Her daughter, grand-daughter and great-grand-daughter, all of whom knew what it was like to carry such a “gift”. A curse was what it was. Following each generation of women, skipping the men in her family completely.
She put a hand on Sue's, gave it a squeeze, and with more enthusiasm than she really felt, said, “I'm fine Sue. Really I am. I didn't sleep well, drank too much tea before bed and was up several times last night for potty runs.” She smiled, hoping to convince Sue that she was ok.
Sue frowned, shrugged and said, “Ok Cora. If you say so.” She stood, took Cora's temp and blood pressure as part of her normal routine and glanced at her photos. The one that caught her eye was one with several children, a very old black and white photo. She recognized Cora in the bunch, “Oh hey! I see you there,” pointing to a skinny girl with braids.
“Yes, that's me with my gang. Well not a gang like today. We never had that sort of thing back then. Lord no. Our gang used to have some grand adventures in our time. That all stopped one day when...,” she trailed off, deep in thought.
“Cora, are you ok?” Sue asked, concerned about her patient and friend.
Cora snapped out of the vision, one that she had locked away long ago, and shivered. “I'm fine. I promise,” she said with a smile.
Sue, concerned, left for the rest of her rounds. She promised herself that she would visit Cora again before her shift was over, just to check on her. Cora watched Sue leave, wishing she could have told her what was bothering her, what had her up nights. She knew though that it was a burden she couldn't share for fear that someone might go release the creature that had so long ago been sealed in its make-shift tomb. She shivered, as a cold that reached into her soul overtook her for a minute, and then looked back to the photo that Sue had pointed out. “Oh…that day,” she thought as images started filling her mind.
It had been warm, almost too warm with the humidity and no breeze. Cora, deep in her memories could almost feel the warm air clinging to her, making her clothes stick to her skin. In her mind, she heard her friends – Sophie Bryce, Mark Hills, Katherine Sims, Jimmy Garris, Mike Smith and Johnny Black – as though she were right there again. Laughing, giggling, care-free days. The morning this photo was taken was the last time the gang laughed and joked together. They were bored and it was Mark's idea to hunt the fabled monster Curakan. According to legend, it was time for Curakan to have awakened and be stalking his victims. There had been two unsolved murders already, and the town was abuzz with rumors of the dreaded Curakan.
Of course, she and her friends all thought it was nonsense cooked up by parents to scare children and keep them from straying too far into the woods. They were too old to believe in boogeyman stories. However, they loved to explore and check out haunted houses and debunk myths. The Curakan myth seemed like a good one to debunk.
In Cora Jean’s mind, she watched the movie of her past. Watched as her younger self went into the woods with her friends - her heartbeat starting to rise as she knew what that adventure held in store. Oh how she wished she could yell to them to stop. The mist was starting to form around them as she watched, helpless - her heart rate continuing to climb as she sat in helpless reverie. As she watched the mist form, she noticed some of the tendrils coming toward her. She felt odd this time, more “connected” to this dream.
Now, as she focused more on the mist, she felt something on her skin and looked down. Around her chair, a mist was forming, but that was impossible. She was indoors, in her room in Sunshine Retirement Home and mists didn’t come indoors. She felt something squeezing her ankle and saw the vague outline of a tendril in the mist. Her eyes widened and her heart rate quickened as beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Panic started to take its grip on her. Her clothes clung to her sweaty skin and she wet herself as she felt the monster from her past reaching out to her. It was then that fate stepped in and Sue walked back into the room.
“Cora, I just had to come…,” Sue stopped mid-sentence as she saw the state of her patient. She ran to her side, took her vitals and hit the alarm for assistance. Cora Jean, dear sweet Cora Jean was having a stroke. More nurses and the on-call doctor came running in. An ambulance was called as they did the necessary steps to get her comfortable and in a more stable condition. Her family was called as she was rushed to the hospital. In the rush, no one noticed the message Cora Jean had scrawled on the old photo while she still had the strength.