Inside The Mind Of Kindra Sowder: Delving Into the Unknown: The Deliverance of Desiree Tanner

Good evening,

Tonight I'm going to make things personal and talk about my new short story that I am currently working on for an anthology. All in the spirit of October as well as in honor of paranormal author Clarissa Johal who is running the October Frights Blog Hop I am participating in along with the authors which whom I will list at the end of this post (and each author name is clickable so you can venture to their own blog).

I am writing a story and I have never written one of its kind before....Well, not since I was 11 anyways and writing ghost stories for school. It is titled "The Deliverance of Desiree Tanner" and I am delving into my own experiences on this one. For those who do not know, I suffer from anxiety and PTSD, which I am using to fuel this story. My background in psychology with two degrees is also helping push this story along. Oh...and GHOSTS! I will be sharing a snippet of this tonight with you guys in honor is this magnificent blog hop we have going on so I hope you enjoy!

The Deliverance of Desiree Tanner (A Snippet)

The chill of the air outside hit my uncovered face and neck as I made my way out of Doctor Elliot’s office, causing me to cross my arms over my chest even though the rest of my body was warm. It was the only sign so far that Fall was among our small town, the leaves not yet changing to their beautiful oranges and reds as the year grew colder. The wonderful thing was that the sun was out, beaming down on me, but not providing the warmth it was known for. I took a deep breath in as the door shut noisily behind me, letting the cool air move through my throat, chilling it ever so slightly as I let the same breath out.

I scanned my surroundings, noticing the black Jeep Wrangler that I arrived in with my roommate still parked in the same spot we had left it. Luke was a wonderful man and one I had known since the age of five where most children have a tendency to meet lifelong friends. He was smart, attentive, and attractive, but not once did I ever see him in a romantic light and we were both alright with that. He had been the most helpful when it came to my afflictions and offered to take me in as a roommate in his three bedroom house that his parents had left him when they died when my own parents decided the PTSD was too much for them to handle.

As I moved towards the Jeep, I began to fish for my cell phone within the large satchel I carried. He wasn’t waiting in the car and was more than likely still in the hardware store down the block, but I wasn’t about to go searching for him. I could wait, but I would be waiting alone which caused my anxiety to peak yet again, a cold sweat breaking out across my forehead and body. My palms even began to perspire as I dug around inside the cavern for the phone, my hand gripping everything but that item. More panic.

Out of the corner of my eye something drew my attention, and I couldn’t help but look up while still rummaging. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. A tall, dark figure was standing next to the car, face unreadable and barely recognizable in the darkness he was shrouded in despite the light from the sun surrounding me. The edge of his long coat was clear against the bright sunlight and blew slightly in the small breeze, hands in his pockets. Fear gripped me like a vice. I wanted to turn around, walk back into Doctor Elliot’s office and tell him I was hallucinating again, but I was rooted to the spot and completely frozen in terror. Completely and utterly immovable. I had even stopped rummaging through my bag, the search for the cell phone a long forgotten memory.

My breathing became ragged as sweat tricked down my back and my heart raced behind my rib cage, my mind sprinting right along with it and not only matching my heart’s speed but outrunning it altogether.

He is dead, I thought to myself. I repeated it in my mind over and over until there was no way I could possibly doubt it but he was still there. Unmoving. Unflinching. Unchanging except for the blowing tendrils of his long coat. He is dead. You killed him. He is dead. The words didn’t change the feeling of dread and terror that ripped through me and formed a solid pit in my gut right along with the lunch I had had earlier, nausea moving up my throat.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I stood there, not wanting to take I the scene before me. Knowing that there was no conceivable way for Alex to be standing next to Luke’s car. I just had to be sure.

My eyes shot open and Luke was before me, blue eyes regarding me with concern as he stood in front of me, blocking my view of what was behind him. A soft cry was all I could muster, a solitary tear rolling down my cheek that I quickly wiped away.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he continued to watch me, his stare not leaving my face as I tried to compose myself.

“He was there, I’m sorry,” I breathed.

He turned away from me, searching around for someone he also knew could not possibly be there. Trying to appease me, it seemed.

He placed a hand on my shoulder and bent down to look me in the eye, “Do you need to go back?” I knew what he meant. He meant did I need to go back to the hospital. Did I need to live in that cesspool of insanity again?

I shook my head and waved him off; looking past his shoulder for all of a second to see that the figure was no longer there.

“No. I’m okay. Just tired is all. I think I just need some ret.”

“Well, you haven’t been sleeping well so I think you could be right.” He shifted the bag I just noticed in his hand to the other hand, placing his arm around my shoulders and guiding me towards the car that I was still regarding with a suspicious glare.

He had been there. I knew he was dead, but Alex had been standing there watching me and I knew this wasn’t over. It may have been something my mind cooked up to cope with what had happened to me, but that didn’t matter. It was real enough to me.