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From: cj841@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Chris Steiner)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [NEWCOMERS] The second of three gatekeepers
Date: 2 Aug 1993 21:53:58 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA)
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Message-ID: <23k2dm$oun@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu>
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   Sandra turned to look at her boyfriend.  It was always a wonder to her why 
he wouldn't leave her when times were bad.  Like they were getting now.  
Really the yelling and screaming solved nothing, it never did, but he seamed 
to be relieved afterwards.  /At least he never hit me,/ Sandra mused.  /A talk 
with mother will help.  Yep that will do it./

   A knot formed in Sandra's stomach as the car approached the place.  The 
place where Mother stayed.  The place that really wasn't.  A feeling of 
sickness and nausea washed over her,  Mother was calling her.  /I'm coming 
Mother,/ Sandra thought.

   Jim turned to look at Sandra, "Is this really necessary?".

   "Yes, please Jim, I don't want to go into it now."

   The ride continued on in silence.  The car drove up to the front gate and 
stopped.  As the headlights went off, Jim turned and spoke once more.

   "I'll wait right here for you." Jim said.  The darkness that enveloped the 
car when the headlights turned off was suddenly split by a brilliant bolt of 
lightning.

   "I know Jim, I know."

   Sandra stepped out of the car and walked to the front gate.  Looking down 
the path she repressed a shudder.  The nausea came upon her full force.  Her 
stomach cramped up with the urge to expel its contents.  /NO!/ she thought.  
/Mother please, I just wish to talk.  Is talking ok?/

   The gate that Sandra's hand rested on slowly moved inward to let her in.  
Sandra bowed her head and walked in past the front gate.  Suddenly there was a 
popping noise as she walked down the path, like bubbles bursting.  Bubbles 
that were supposed to keep her out.  Bubbles that were to keep Mother in.  The 
bubbles were bad.  Still every time she came they were there and burst at the 
same point in the path.

   A small statue of Mary sat on the grass just off the path to the inside of 
the gate.  Sandra kneeled as always and prayed.  /Please Mary take care of 
Mother as always and I hope she is well now./

   Sandra continued her walk down the path towards Mother.  The trepidation 
was almost to much to bear.  Would she be as she was before? or would she be 
better.  /Better I hope, please let her get better,/ Sandra thought.

   An image unbidden sprang to her mind.  It was her mother hitting her time 
and time again.  A convulsion wracked through her body as the memory was 
forcibly silenced.  /Mother was better now, they tell me like I will be.  I am 
sure of it,/ Sandra thought.  Her feet started carrying her forward again.  
Toward the place, the place that mother now stayed.

   Sandra walked off the path and kneeled down on the grass in front of the 
marker that marked the place.  The marker really wasn't needed, Sandra just 
knew.

   Another image sprang to her mind.  The shaking began and Sandra fell down 
to the ground.  "Please mother not again!", she screamed.

   The image was of her and her mother standing in her little sister, 
Christine's room.  Mother was in a bad way.  They had already been screaming 
at each other for a long time and both had fallen silent.  The only noise was 
Christine whimpering from the broken arm mother had given her.

   A wild look was in mothers eyes when she grabbed the broomstick and swung.  
The blow was incredible, her arm suddenly became cold and numb as if it really 
wasn't there.  There was no pain, only silence.  A cold, deadly silence.  
Sandra walked towards her mother.  A confused look came to mothers eyes as she 
looked into the new eyes of her daughter.  Cold silent eyes.  The eyes of 
someone with nothing left to lose.  "I can't let you hurt Christine again" she 
whispered.  The whisper carried across the gulf between them like a gunshot.  
Mother scrambled back two steps towards the window.  The floor was slippery 
from Christine's blood.  Mother slipped and fell towards the night table.  Her 
head cracked against it with a loud bang and she stopped moving.

   The image faded out leaving Sandra crying.  "I'm sorry mother.  I didn't 
mean it."  She looked up at the stone she paid for herself.

   Jean Ann Surrai, died June 1 1983, Survived by her daughter Christine.

   Another feeling washed over her as the lightning in the sky began to flash 
more intensely.  This time the feeling was to run, to put as much distance 
between herself and the grave.  A light beckoned her to the north, further 
into the cemetery.  

   Sandra picked up herself and ran headlong towards the light.  Stumbling she 
came to the north edge of the cemetery to see two people walking down the 
hill.  Something told her to follow them.  They would know what she should do.  
That was certain.

   Behind her she could hear the laughing of her Mother.  A horrible cackling 
that seamed to shake the trees and caused their leaves to fall.  Sandra turned 
to look back at the source of laughter, but continued to run away from it.  
/I'm sorry Mother, please forgive me./

   Suddenly the world darkened as a branch whipped into the side of her head.  
Stumbling, she reached for the next tree to regain her balance.  Not finding 
it she collapsed into a heap on the forest floor.  Giving in to the 
unconsciousness, she lay still.

                                *       *       *

   "Sandra!" Jim called.  "Sandraaaa!" His voice echoed through the cemetery.  
When the echo died down Jim was completely alone in the cemetery's silence.