Page 16 of Mistress A-0002

Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.

“I want you to keep exploring. Walk out of the gardens and tell me what else you see.”

Time passed as Braddock’s face drew in.

“I’m in front of a house. A large brick house. But…it’s not Pappy’s house…I don’t like this. I…I don’t want to go inside.”

Not Pappy’s? Had the memory been altered? He shouldn’t have left the location we were anchored into. Not without my lead.

“You don’t have to. Take a deep breath. You’re safe. Tell me what this house looks like.”

“It’s brown brick. It’s big. Really big.”

“Brown brick.” My fist rose to my mouth as my mind raced. “Is it possible that it’s your parent’s house? It used to be brown.”

“I…don’t like it.”

“It’s okay. What else do you see? Does the house have shutters?”

“…yes. They’re a…off-white color. Like a cream. And.” Braddock’s hands started shaking in his lap.Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.“He’s looking at me through the window.”

“Who is?”

“I don’t want to see him.I want to leave.”

“Soon. You’re safe here with me. Hold your blanket. Let it comfort you. I want you to take in this person at the window. What does he look like? Who’s looking at you?”

Braddock’s head shook hard. “He’s covered in blood. He’s…angry. Fuck. Oh, God. No. I want to leave.”

“Brad, who’s at the window? Look into his face. Who is it?”

“You know who it is.”

“No…I don’t. You have to tell me. Who is it?”

“It’s…him.It’s Braddock.”

The room went silent. I turned to Melissa, lifting my hand as her mouth parted to say something. He was under too deep. He was too stressed to hear two voices. It would confuse him. It would add stress to his already unstable mind.

“Tell me about Braddock. Why is he angry? Why’s he covered in blood?”

Back and forth Brad’s head shook. “I-I-I?—”

“Elec, don’t do this.You’ll do more harm than good.”

My hand pulsed towards Melissa to get her to stop talking.

“You’re perfectly safe, Brad. You have no reason to be afraid.”

“He will have reason if you continue.”

“Melissa.” I threw her a glare, going back to Braddock who was nearly hyperventilating. “What do you see, Brad? Why are you covered in blood?”

“I-I don’t…I don’t—” He yelled, slicing his head to the side as his lids squinted, squeezing shut.

“Force the answers, Braddock. You can do this. Why are you covered in blood? Whose blood is it?”

“…I—No. Mine? Me. I think I. She’s—” Another yell. Words were rushed, but I couldn’t understand them with how fast and jumbled they were becoming.