Holiday of Horrors

By BGE Ruth

Christy is a nineteen-year-old college student whose mother died of metastatic breast cancer. It was after her mothers death that Christy discovered that her mother, Hilary, had kept many secrets almost her entire life. Before Hilary died, she had planned a camping trip for her immediate family and her only real friend, Renee, and Renees son, Brett, in Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. This led the Bradley family and friends into a holiday of horrors when they encounter a serial killer wandering the wilds of Rocky Mountain Park. This killer had contact with Christys mother years before Christy was born. Read to find out how Christys present intertwines with Hilarys past.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: May 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781466990302

BGE Ruth

The writer is a retired registered nurse who worked in many areas of nursing, from pediatrics to adult medical oncology. She has always wanted to write and loves to read, so after retiring, she enrolled in the Institute of Children’s Literature and graduated on August 17, 2009. She had no luck selling any of her short stories to children’s magazines, and that was when she decided to write for adults. Holiday of Horrors is a product of that decision.

Book preview

CHAPTER I

CHRISTY STOOD AT THE open graveside of her mother, Hilary Bradley, on a damp, dreary afternoon the day before Thanksgiving. Her father, Mark, and brother, Craig, stood silently beside her. As the coffin was being lowered into the grave, Craig put his long arms around Christy’s back to console her. She broke out in uncontrollable sobs, awaking Mark from a hypnotic stare. Mark grabbed Craig and Christy in his loving embrace in an effort to console them. Tears streamed down their cheeks and on their clothing like a cloud bursting with rain. When the coffin arrived at the bottom, Christy broke from the embrace and picked up a red and a yellow rose from a flower spray at the graveside. She first kissed the yellow rose and whispered to herself, Mom, this is for our indwelling friendship I thought we had. She next kissed the red rose and whispered, Mom, this is for the love and trust I thought we had.

Craig and Mark each picked up, kissed a red rose, and threw them on top of the coffin. Pastor Swords finished the funeral service with a word of prayer. After the prayer, the Bradleys, holding hands, walked to the awaiting funeral limousine. The limousine driver drove them back to their house, where a few family members and friends were waiting. Renee Williams, their neighbor and Hilary’s best friend, met them at the door. Christy heard laughing and joking coming from the living room, and there were dirty plates on the end tables and the coffee table in her mother’s house. The scene caused grief to erupt in Christy in an angry show of raw emotions. She yelled, This is not a party! I will not take this. I’m going to bed. She ran upstairs, slammed her bedroom door, and locked it. She flopped on her bed, buried her head in her pillow, and started crying again. She heard a knock on her door. Go away! she screamed.

Christy. It’s Renee, may I come in?

Go away, Renee.

Christy, I know you’re hurting right now. I’m missing your mom too. I will not talk unless you want me to. I will sit with you for a while.

Needing comfort, Christy stood up and walked to the door, unlocked it, and stood there, her pretty deep-blue eyes red and swollen. She pleadingly looked at Renee and said, Come in, Renee. I miss Mom too, but I hate her. I hate her. Why did she wait so long before going to a physician? Why didn’t Mom tell us about the lump in her right breast? When did you find out she had breast cancer? She was so selfish keeping things to herself. I do not think she loved us. It is all so stupid and wasteful.

Renee held Christy’s hand and started her intrepid story. "I found out the first week in October that Hilary had a lump in her right breast. We were at May’s Gymnasium, Hilary disrobed to take a shower, and I noticed her right breast was red and swollen, and she had an inverted nipple. I was dismayed. I guess I made a tactless comment, telling her that her right breast looked ugly. She covered up quickly and started to cry. She told me she was terrified. Four months ago to the day was when she found the lump the size of a small walnut. She said she did not want to have a mastectomy and chemotherapy. I asked her if she saw a physician. She shook her head no. I screamed at her, ‘This is crazy, Hilary. You have to see a physician!’ She practically disintegrated before my eyes, her face became white, and her body muscles were as limp as a wet noodle. I made an appointment for her to see my family physician. The appointment was made for the following week, and I went with her."

Christy interjected, I didn’t have any idea this was going on. I was so into myself, planning what nursing classes to take so I could graduate this coming summer. Why didn’t you tell Dad, Craig, or me?

It’s not productive to blame yourself or me for what happened to your mom. She did it to herself by not telling anyone or going to see a physician. Hilary swore me to keep her secret, so I guarded her secret and kept her wishes. I went with her to all her doctor appointments and all her laboratory, x-ray, and nuclear tests. It was only after Dr. Adams, the oncologist, told her that the cancer had metastasized to her lymph nodes, lungs, and brain. It was then I convinced her to talk with her family members. Dr. Adams told her he could give her chemotherapy to arrest the cancer but not cure it. He said her life expectancy was six to nine months without chemotherapy and nine to eighteen months, possibly two years, with chemotherapy. He discussed quality-of-life issues with her and went over chemotherapy side effects. She made the decision not to take the chemotherapy. She expected to live until after the New Year. She had planned a camping trip to Rocky Mountain National Park over the holidays for herself and your family. She also invited me and Brett to go along. I told her it should be just the family.

Renee, sobbed Christy.

Renee held Christy in her arms until she stopped crying and fell asleep. In the middle of the night, Christy woke up, holding a letter addressed to her in her mother’s handwriting. She dubiously opened the letter and read it.

Dearest Daughter Christy,

I’m sorry to leave you like this. Please don’t be angry with me for making a bad decision. I was selfish, keeping my illness to myself. I should have told you and the rest of the family so we could have had quality time together before I died. I love you very much. I would not hurt you for the world. My children are my world. I have one request of you if I don’t make it to the Christmas holidays, I want you to convince the family to take the trip I planned and paid for to Rocky Mountain National Park. You know how we loved camping together when you were children. Your Dad and I always wanted to camp at Rocky Mountain National Park with you and Craig, but we became involved with our daily routines, and with Dad having to travel for his new job for weeks at a time, I could not arrange the time. I wanted to go camping together before Craig graduated from graduate school and started his life with Mindy and with you graduating from college; this year was the ideal year. Ask Renee about the trip, she has all the information and did much of the work of planning the trip. As for Renee, she has been my best friend for twelve years and has traveled through hell with me. She loves you and Craig just like her own son, Brett. So long for now, I will be watching over you from heaven.

Love, Mom

Christy stayed awake with the letter lying on her heart, thinking of her mom and their last week together. She finally drifted to sleep and woke with the sun shining in her room. She looked at her alarm clock—eight o’clock, and she was still holding her mother’s letter.

CHAPTER II

November 23, 2011: Next Morning at

Little Rock, Colorado

WHEN CHRISTY WALKED INTO the kitchen, the family was sitting around the table with a huge plate of pancakes and sausages in the center of the table.

Christy said, Good morning, anything I can do to help?

Renee answered, Yes, you could pour the orange juice.

Christy poured the orange juice and then sat down to a quiet table. I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday, Christy said.

Dad said, "It is okay, Christy. You don’t have to feel sorry. You are a human being with emotions, and yesterday was