The Second Dream

Night arrived, and I was thinking about that red haired girl again.  From what I observed, she always kept her head low and didn’t talk to anyone.  The girls on the bus always gossiped about her and giggled whenever she passed by.  The more I watched her, the more I couldn’t help but remember the glowing in her eyes the first time I met her in the bathroom.  Now, she looked like a lonesome zombie wandering the streets. 

I sighed, flopping over on my side and staring at the wall.  I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but something else bothered me.  My fingers were still bandaged up, but they didn’t seem to be healing efficiently.  The skin holding the nail down was beginning to peel back from my shortened nails, and it itched.  I pressed the tips of my fingers against the cold wall until the intense pain and itching died down a bit.  Then I curled up in my blanket and attempted to sleep.

 

When my eyes opened, I stood inside my previous house again, holding my mom’s hand.  We faced the clean, white front door with rectangular windows embedded with designs like the inside of a kaleidoscope.  The walls in the small hallway leading to the door were a dark wooden brown with a slight tint of red, and family portraits hung along the hall.  At the end was a picture of the three of us. 

There was my father with his fluffy, dirty blond hair that curled in big uncompleted loops.  His bangs brushed the top of his tall forehead while the back of his hair was snipped shorter as to not cover his neck.  He had light brown eyes and a defining jaw line.  In the picture, he wore a straightened, light blue buttoned shirt and brown khakis.  His reading glasses were propped up on his head, almost covered by his soft hair.  My mother, on the other hand, had deep, brown hair that flowed down her back in waves and bangs swaying to the left side of her face.  Her eyebrows were thick and sharp along with her piercing green eyes.  She wore a slim, dark blue dress that glowed in the sunlight.  Then there was me.  I was still a child.  I had long, brown hair and thick bangs slanted to the side, but my hair wasn’t as wavy as my mother’s.  I wore a tannish, thin layer over a solid white dress.  The tan cloth contained cut outs like snowflakes going all the way around the bottom half of my dress.  My shining, dark brown eyes stared back at me.  Mother held little me in her arms while father’s arms wrapped around mom’s waist.  I gazed at the picture in curiosity. 

We were all smiling...

Why were we smiling?

Shadows casted throughout the house, and I felt a chill crawl down my spine.  Soon, the picture became covered in darkness, and all that remained was the whites of ours eyes and our white teeth.  My eyes widened back at the six eyes, grinning at me.  I opened my mouth to scream, and for the hundredth time, blood splattered.  It hit the wall and painted across the picture of smiling faces.  I turned around to see my mother on the ground.  The door carpet that she lied on changed from the colors of fall to a dark red.  I stepped back, hearing the slush of the blood in the carpet under my shoes.  Mom.  Mom…     

“Rena, let’s go,” a low, husky voice spoke.  A hand reached out in front of me.  I gazed down at it and noticed the short claws where nails should be and blood dripping off of the claws.  I tilted my head back to look up at the face of my father.  He was smiling.

Why was he smiling at a time like this?

My heart beat faster in my chest, and my hands clenched. 

I wanted to wipe that smile off.  I wanted to smash his face until there was nothing left. 

My body shuddered with excitement, and I heard my own voice in my head.

I’m going to kill you.

 

A high pitched blaring sound snapped me awake.  I yelped in surprise, sitting up fast only to bang my head on the wooden boards above my bed.  My vision spun a little as the shrieking, mechanical wail continued on in quick intervals.  There seemed to be lots of movement in the room.  I looked around and saw the other girls running for the door and the fire alarm light flashing.  My eyes blinked awake.  The girl who slept above me, Emilie, had already gotten down and was trying to drag me out of bed.

“Rena, there’s a fire,” she hissed. I pushed my blanket off and climbed out of bed, running toward the door with her.  When we reached the entrance, everyone was shuffling toward the closes exit at the end of the hallway.  Emilie and I squeezed our way into the line.  The only ones talking were the parents who guided us down the hall to outside since we had always practiced fire drills in silence.  We all made it outside and went to a large yew that the parents chose to be far enough away from the building.  The kids from the other hallways made their way out to their own “safety zones” too.  Some of the parents went back inside to check for kids while the others counted our heads to make sure everyone was there. 

As I stood outside, the cold pressing against me and my toes beginning to freeze from the wet grass, I started to feel anxious.  I looked at the others as they tried to keep warm.  Soon, we heard the sirens of a fire truck approaching.  The other kids from the high school and elementary buildings peeked out of their windows in curiosity since the parents probably wouldn’t let them out.  The main gate opened and the fire truck came in.  The firemen jumped out of the truck and started to investigate while one of them talked to the main parents. 

After what seemed like forever in the cold, autumn night, the firemen came out of the building unharmed.  They talked to the parents, who looked rather relieved.  After a moment, the firemen packed into their truck and left.  The parents started to usher us back into the building.  Hushed voices went throughout the middle school kids, either in excitement or in fear as to what happened.  Then, I heard a familiar female voice.

“Teresa,” she said.  I glanced back to see Sydney talking to one of the parents while we walked. 

“What is it, Sydney?” Teresa said in a quiet voice.

“I think I know what happened.”

Teresa stared back in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I think someone pulled the alarm,” Sydney said, “and I think I know who it was.”

Teresa’s eyes narrowed at her. “Who do you suppose it is?”

“I think it was Pippa, the new girl, because I share a room with her and she just walked out a little while before the alarm went off.  When we were leaving the room, I didn’t see her.”

“Where is Pippa now?” Teresa asked.

“She’s over there,” Sydney said and pointed near the back of the line at the one I least expected: the red head.  She walked slowly with her head hanging low. “She probably snuck out here with us.”

Teresa made a suspicious face. “I’ll check it out, okay, Sydney?  Don’t talk to anyone else about it.  Just go to sleep,” she said. 

“Okay, I won’t tell anyone,” Sydney smiled obediently.  I faced forward once more as we entered the building and dispersed to our rooms.