Subj: Grammar Story -- 28
Date: 8/4/00 11:44:25 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Beverly LaCroix

Where am I? Jeremiah thought, not recognizing the feeling that had occurred earlier with the unknown ghost. Before when he had been flung through time, the sensation had been disorienting, leaving him feeling a bit nauseous. Pain had never occurred like it had a moment ago. He didn't even want to think about that torment. It had been momentary in actuality, but had seemed to last an eternity as every fiber of his physical being had been torn and ripped from his very essence, his soul.
A new thought occurred to him, and it panicked him, was he dead? And if so, was he in Hell? Was that why this infernal darkness, and the feeling of not being grounded. With that thought he reached out to grab a wall or touch a physical object, just so he could have some connection with reality as he knew it, but nothing. He was floating in darkness, a black darkness like he had never known.

All of Abigail's warnings and teachings came back to him of how he was always playing right into the devil's hands, and he was going to go to hell if he didn't give up his sinful ways. The thoughts were ceaseless and merciless, and he knew if he didn't stop them, he would surely go mad.

Light, he thought joyously. Time to get moving, was his thought as the place where he was became more illuminated. Looking around, adjusting his vision to the light, he found entirely unnecessary. "I know where I am," he whispered. Soon the whisper became silent screams, as he saw himself manacled to the wall of the cell at the Old House, and watched helplessly as Barnabas, Maggie, and Willie entered the room.