The Haunting of Anna McAlister Read Online Free PDF

face as she approached the room. “The depths of hell my ass. It’s just the door to my fucking dining room for Christ’s sake.”
    Swearing made Anna feel braver, so did making the sign of the cross. She pushed open the door. Before she entered the semi-darkened room, Anna carefully reached in with her right arm ( shit shit shit shit shit shit shit ) and turned on the light.  
    The room took on its usual shapes and colors. Anna looked around, carefully avoiding the table. Finally assured that all was normal, Anna looked directly at where she had lined up her music boxes. When she did, all normalcy vanished. Anna gasped and started to slowly back out of the room.
    As before, the music boxes sparkled in the light, but now, instead of being lined up as Anna had left them, all 12 were neatly stacked one on top of the other.  
    Anna turned and ran, reaching her kitchen telephone before taking her next breath. She called Tom’s store.
    “I’m sorry, Anna,” his assistant said. “He isn’t here right now. I think he may have left for the day. Do you want his voice mail?”
    “No!” Anna slammed down the phone, instantly regretting it. She waited to hear a crash from the dining room as the vibration from her action caused the perilously stacked music boxes to tumble to the tabletop and the floor. She suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of them being in any way damaged.
    When there was no sound, Anna again picked up the phone. She carefully dialed Tom’s cell. After three quick rings, his recorded voice answered: “Hi you’ve reached. . .” Anna hung up.
    The clock on the microwave read 6:48. “Where are you Tom?”
    Anna called his cell again. It seemed to take ten minutes before his happy voice asked the caller to leave a message after the beep.  
    “Tom,” Anna tried to sound calm, but knew she didn’t. “Please get over here right now. Something happened to the music boxes. Please hurry, Tom.” She bit her lower lip, knowing she was about to sound stupid. “I’m scared.”  
    Anna hung up and stared at the dining room door for what seemed like a very long time. Then, without thinking, she began to glide slowly forward. She wasn’t sure if her feet were actually moving or not. Anna blinked, and when her eyes opened, she was standing next to her dining room table, staring down at the music boxes.  
    One by one, Anna carefully lifted the boxes from the stack and placed them safely on to the table. When she touched each box, what seemed like a memory of a memory flashed before her. As she lifted the cherry wood music box with its ornately carved cherubs, she visualized a formal ball and a long blue dress. The thought lasted for less than a second. The images flew by so quickly that Anna didn’t have time to react, or register each new-found memory as one of her own.
    Another music box provoked the image of a long ago Christmas. Another, a birthday party by a river. Like pain in a nitrous oxide induced stupor, the memories were felt, but instantly forgotten. There was a small shop that smelled of cedar, and a surprise package being delivered by a handsome courier on a red bicycle. When Anna touched the wood of each box, it seemed to tell a story. Finally she came to the last box. . . the black box with the rose.
    Anna stared at it for a moment. She hesitated, suddenly unable to touch it, or even to keep looking at it.  
    “Okay,” Anna said out loud. “Now you are officially nuts. You are afraid of a music box.”
    Anna forced her logical, conscious mind to override her instincts. She knew she should leave . . . to again run, and this time to keep running. Instead, she carefully reached out and caressed the box with both hands. When she did, her world disappeared.
    Unbearable pain shot through Anna’s body. It radiated from her vagina throughout her being. Images flashed through her mind, each more terrifying than the one that preceded it. They moved at lightning speed, but now every one registered