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Peek A Boo I See You (Emma Frost #5)

Willow Rose



  Emma Frost #5

  Willow Rose

  Copyright Willow Rose 2014

  Published by Jan Sigetty Boeje

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  Cover design by Jan Sigetty Boeje Cover Design

  Special thanks to my editor Janell Parque

  African Mask Photo: Thomas Ernst

  Connect with Willow Rose:

  Peek-a-boo, I see you - boo boo!

  Peek-a-boo, do you see me? Boo boo!

  Peek-a-boo, I see you - boo boo!

  It's fun playing peek-a-boo with you.

  It's fun playing peek-a-boo - with you.

  Children's song written by Denisa Senovsky


  February 2014

  THEY CALLED HER SUSIE SUNSHINE. Mostly because she was always so entertaining and joyful. On the good days that was. That was when everybody loved her and enjoyed being around her.

  Susie opened her eyes and stared at the white ceiling, wondering if this was one of those days or if it was one of the others. One of the black ones where she had no energy for anything. On those days, all she wanted was to be left alone. She especially didn't want to see her mother, who always stopped by around noon to make sure Susie was out of bed and that she had taken her medicine. But Susie had cheated the last couple of days. She did that sometimes. Stopped taking her medicine. Just for a couple of days usually. Just to lose a couple of pounds. The medicine made her eat more and made her gain weight. A lot of weight. Susie was tired of being fat. So, that was why she sometimes cheated on her meds.

  But this time, it was different. This time it hadn't happened on purpose. This time, she actually hadn't been able to find her medicine for at least a week now. She simply couldn't remember where she had put the bottle. She didn't want to admit it to her mother, who would go berserk if she knew. She would blame her for cheating on her medicine and immediately admit her to the hospital again. Susie really didn't want that, so she kept it to herself and just hoped and prayed that this would be one of the good days. One of those where she had tons of energy and hardly needed any sleep at all.

  Those days her doctor referred to as the manic days.

  Those were the best. And Susie had missed them. When she had her manic days, anything was possible. She even liked herself and she was funny and told jokes that made people like her. But then, when the depressive days arrived - which they always did at some point - no one understood where the funny girl had gone. They all wanted their clown back.

  Susie lifted her head and looked out the window, pulling the curtains aside. The sun was shinning. It was rare at this time of year and she closed her eyes as the rays of the sun hit her face through the glass. She put the palm of her hand to the glass and felt how cold it was. It had snowed while she was sleeping and the yard belonging to her small apartment on the first floor that the county had provided for her, was covered in white. The neighbor's daughter was playing outside, making a huge snowman. Her mother watched her from the window with a cigarette in her mouth. Susie knew it was hard on the neighbor to have her daughter visiting. She lived with her father and only came twice a month, so as not to overburden the mother. Susie smiled at the sight of the girl and felt like jumping out the window into the snow and playing with her.

  Susie burst into laughter. It was one of the good days. It had been for almost the entire week now. Maybe the depression wouldn't come this time around? Maybe it was possible for her to stay happy forever and ever? In her mind, anything could happen right now. She could possibly even learn how to fly.

  Susie jumped out of the bed feeling ecstatic. She stretched her hands in the air to embrace the beautiful morning. A neighbor walking by her window looked in and seemed perplexed by her nakedness in the window. Susie laughed and shook her body, forcing her big breasts to dangle back and forth.

  The man ran away. Susie laughed again. She felt like running after the guy and bringing him back to her place. It was always like that on the good days. Her sex drive went haywire. She craved sex and often ended up with the strangest types.

  Susie laughed again and held a hand to her belly. Oh what a wonderful day this was. She felt like going outside, maybe visiting her neighbor who was staring anxiously at her daughter through the window. Maybe cheer her up a little? Lord knows she could use some cheering up and Susie was in a perfect mood for just that. She felt almost invincible.

  How beautiful the world is today. I feel like singing and dancing. I feel such love for everyone and want to tell them how much I love them. Why do they all look so sad when they pass my window? I don't understand why they're not all playing in the beautiful snow?

  Susie chuckled and looked at the girl playing, then she decided to run outside, not thinking for one second about the fact that she was still naked.

  With a huge smile, Susie jumped out the door and screamed as she threw herself in a pile of freezing snow. Laughing manically, she rolled around. She didn't even notice the young girl's small shriek, nor the fact that she rushed back to her mother's apartment shaking and trembling with fear. No, Susie laughed and rolled in the snow like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Meanwhile, the neighbors closed their curtains and moved away from the windows, knowing that it wouldn't be long before the police arrived and Susie would be admitted to the psychiatric ward once again. They had seen her like this many times before and didn't want to get involved.

  Susie didn't stop laughing until the moment a hand was reached down towards her and she grabbed it. In front of her stood a person dressed in a long black coat.

  Susie smiled.

  "You'll catch a cold," the person said.

  Susie answered with another carefree laugh.

  "Not me," she said. Then she repeated it again and again like a four-year-old would do. "Not me, not me, not me."

  "You don't get cold?" the person in the long coat asked.

  Susie giggled and shook her head. "No! Not me. I'm invincible. I can do anything. Can't you see?"

  "I do see," the person said. "And I do believe you."

  Clouds had gathered in the sky and covered the sun. Now it was starting to snow again. Susie threw her head back and stuck her tongue out. Several snowflakes landed on it and melted. It made her laugh again.

  "You're just having fun, aren't you?" the person in the coat asked.

  Susie closed her mouth and looked at the person in front of her. "I am having fun. I really am. I think I'll stay out here all day. Oh no, maybe I should go skiing. Do you want to come? Do you want to go skiing with me?" she asked with wide-open eyes.

  "I'm afraid I'm not much of a skier," the person answered. "Plus I don't have any skis. Do you?"

  "I'll just go anyway. I don't need any skis," she said with a grin.

  "Of course you don't. ‘Cause you can do anything, can't you?" the person asked with a smile.

  "Well yes. You are right. I can do anything."

  "Can you also fly?"

  Susie froze. Then she nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes I can. How did you know that?"

; The person shrugged. "Took a wild guess. You know I have always dreamed of learning how to fly. Could you show me?"

  Susie giggled. She felt so happy at this moment in her life and she never wanted it to go away. She loved this strange person in the black coat and beanie standing in front of her so much right now. And, of course, she would like to help him learn how to fly. Everyone should learn how to fly like the birds.

  "Yes," she said. "Of course I'll show you, come."

  She grabbed his coat and pulled him. She knew exactly where she was going to show him. She walked back into the building and into the elevator where she pushed the button for the fifth floor. The person followed her and stepped in with her. Susie giggled all the way up, thinking about how wonderful it was going to be to finally have someone to fly with. It could be so lonesome up there among the birds. At least that was what she thought. Suddenly, she couldn't remember. But she knew she had done this before. She definitely had. Hadn't she? Yes. Yes, she had. Many times. She could still hear her father's words to her:

  Susie Sunshine shines in the sky like diamonds.

  The elevator stopped and they went out. Susie showed the way to the stairs leading to the roof. She had been up there many times before to fly and knew how to get up there, even if it was locked. She knew a trick to unlock the door and now she showed her new friend, using one of his credit cards.

  The door opened and Susie went outside on the roof. With great confidence, she walked towards the edge and looked back at the person who was smiling and nodding.

  "I'll go first, then you follow," Susie said with a grin. "Make sure you watch me closely first to see how to do it."

  "Sure," the person said.

  Susie climbed up on the railing, bent her knees, and jumped. She felt the cold air against her skin as she skyrocketed through the air. She screamed with joy and flapped her arms wildly.


  April 2000

  SAMUEL WAS THE CUTEST little boy. His mother especially thought so. Alexandra Holm was a woman in her mid-thirties when she had him and he was exactly like the child she had always wanted. He had the cutest chubby cheeks, the bluest of eyes and blondest of hair. He was gorgeous and everyone told Alexandra so when they saw him.

  Alexandra thought about the day when she had first held him in her arms as she watched him blow out the candles on his cake for his four-year birthday. These had been the best four years of her life. Her husband Poul had thought so too and now they were exchanging loving glances as the boy shrieked with joy over being able to blow out all the candles at once.

  "That's my boy," Alexandra said, and cut a piece of the cake and put it on the boy's plate. The piece tipped over on the plate.

  "Moom," the boy whined, annoyed.

  "Sorry," she said with a smile and flipped it upright again. She placed the plate in front of him. "There. Now it's perfect."

  "Say cheese," Poul said, and took a picture of Samuel.

  Samuel didn't look up.

  "Samuel, look at me," Poul said.

  Still, the boy didn't react.

  "Samuel, look at your dad," Alexandra said.

  "I don't want to," Samuel replied, then dug his fingers deep into the cake.

  Alexandra's mother gasped. She was sitting next to Poul's parents at the table. "Alexandra," her mother said, with a condemning tone. "You can't let him do that."

  "Samuel, use your spoon," Alexandra said, feeling very self-conscious.

  It had been hard becoming a mother, she thought. Harder than expected. Especially the disciplining part had become increasingly harder and harder for her. She wasn't tough enough on the boy, her own mother kept telling her that when Samuel acted out.

  "Boys need discipline," she would say. "They need consistency; they need to know right from wrong at a very early age. And most importantly, they need to know who is in charge. Don't let him think he's in control, or he'll end up controlling everything in just a few years."

  But for someone like Alexandra, it was hard to be tough on her little boy, who she adored so much. She had tried to become pregnant for more than eight years, so finally receiving a child was a gift that needed to be cherished. She couldn't find it in her heart to be angry at the boy and, especially, not to raise her voice at him.

  "Please, Samuel. Use your spoon to eat with," she repeated, when he didn't listen. She looked at her mother, who stared at her with contempt. Alexandra blushed and picked up the spoon. She tried to hand it to him.

  "Samuel, use the spoon, please."

  The boy laughed and kept eating with his fingers. Alexandra felt discouraged. Wasn't it, after all, his birthday? Wasn't he supposed to have fun and do as he pleased for once?

  Alexandra looked at Poul who shrugged. Alexandra was torn inside. She wanted to discipline the boy, yet she wanted him to have fun on his birthday and, if that meant eating his cake with his fingers, then shouldn't he be allowed to?

  "Alexandra," her mother said, with a harsh tone. "He really shouldn't…"

  "I know, Mom. I know," she interrupted her. She turned towards her son. "Samuel, please use your spoon," she repeated, more firmly than she liked to.

  The boy stopped eating and looked up at his mother. What she saw in his eyes scared her more than anything. Those delightful blue eyes that she loved so dearly suddenly turned almost black. Alexandra gasped.

  Samuel let out an ear-piercing scream before he picked up the cake from his plate and started throwing it at his mother. When there was no more cake, he picked up the spoon and threw it at her, then the plate. Alexandra whimpered and drew backwards, while Poul looked at the scene with nothing but apathy.

  "Samuel. Stop it immediately," Alexandra's mother yelled at the boy.

  But the boy didn't stop. His tantrum continued. He jumped down from his chair and ran towards his mother, hitting his fists into her stomach. Alexandra whimpered and cried. She held his shoulders to hold him back, but the boy seemed, suddenly, to possess inhuman strength and managed to get free. He hit her again and again and Alexandra cried in despair.

  "Please, sweet Samuel. Please stop."

  "Poul, do something," Alexandra's mother said.

  Poul looked at her like he didn't understand.

  "Take the boy to his room," her mother said.

  Poul put the camera down carefully then stormed towards them, grabbed the boy around the waist and, while Samuel was kicking and screaming, he carried him up the stairs and put him in his room. Alexandra staggered backwards and landed on the couch. Whimpering, she sat down while listening with terror to her son screaming and yelling from his room upstairs, banging and kicking the door.


  February 2014

  I WAS STARING AT the letter on the kitchen table in front of me like I had been for the last hour, wondering whether I should open it or not.

  The big white envelope seemed to be mocking me. Could I open it and not care what the result was? Could I not open it and go around uncertain about the result for the rest of my life?

  I sipped my coffee and took another piece of chocolate. I had eaten almost an entire package of my favorite Marabou-chocolate with licorice since I had emptied the mailbox that same morning after the kids had taken off to school.

  "It was going to happen one time or another, Emma," I told myself. "The result was going to come. You knew this. You asked for it. You can't keep going on as if everything is the same."

  I inhaled deeply, picked up the envelope and looked at it. My daughter's name on the front seemed so huge, like it was yelling at me to open it.

  I didn't want to. I really didn't want to know the truth about my daughter's father. I had contacted Erik Gundtofte and told him to go to a lab in Copenhagen and leave a sample for them to examine. I sent them hair from my daughter's brush to take a DNA sample from and have them compare them. Now they had the result and I was terrified of the truth.

  Maybe it won't show anything. He is, after all, only one out of many that could be Maya's father. What are th
e chances? Just open it, you coward, and get it over with.

  I shrugged and turned the envelope over with the intention of finally opening it when, suddenly, the doorbell rang.

  "No, not now!" I mumbled. "Go away."

  I stared at the half-opened envelope. My heart was racing. Part of me wanted to be disturbed, wanted to have to postpone it, while the other half wanted to get it over with.

  The doorbell rang again and I got up. I hid the letter in a drawer, then went for the door. Thinking it was maybe a package of clothes that Maya had ordered, I opened the door expecting to find my mailman, but it wasn't him.

  "Hi, honey."

  I was startled. Almost in shock.


  The woman standing outside looked like my mother, except she looked ten years younger.

  "You lost weight," I said.

  "Almost fifty pounds," she said with a smile. She turned her body in the leather jacket and leather pants. "Looking good, right?"

  "Did you do something to your face?" I asked.

  It looked like she tried not to smile, but her expression remained the same. "Got a facelift and some Botox. You like it?"

  I didn't know what to say. To be honest, she looked terrible. Not that it wasn't nicely done, she just didn't look like my mother.

  "Can I come inside?" she asked.

  "Of course," I said and spotted the three huge Louis Vuitton suitcases behind her. She left them there and entered my house.

  "What about the…?" I asked, but she was gone.

  I stared at the three suitcases that had to have cost at least two-thousand Euros each. They probably wouldn't last long in my yard, so I grabbed one and carried it inside.

  After getting all three of them inside my hallway, I closed the door and walked to the kitchen where I found my mother sitting at the table, still looking like she was the happiest person on earth. The only thing that gave her away was a small tear that had escaped the corner of her eye and now rolled down her cheek.