2~ Nightmare

Through the darkness of the large room I see a little girl, dressed in an old fashioned nightgown, staring out at the foggy night through her very large window. The moon shines just right so that I can see the girl’s size and the size of the room, but nothing more; no details, no real shapes, save for the vague shape of a bed and a dresser and a door. A door. I shouldn’t be here, I don’t even know where here is. I walk through the door and down a long flight of slightly curving stairs to a large room that looks like a ballroom. It is very dimly lit by candles that seem to be sticking directly out of the walls. Why do I feel at home here? I lightly run my finger tips along the wall and the railing to the stairs, and, out of nowhere, translucent figures begin to dance with one another, as if they were at a party, but soon only two of them remain. They are serious, cold, unhappy looking people. But the woman looks like me. The little girl is coming down the stairs now, slowly, timidly, like she is afraid. Why would she be afraid? Are these people not supposed to be here? In her home? I can’t make sense of anything here, why don’t these people see me, I want to go home. I can’t go home… I’m on my way to my new house… The little girl slips, sliding down two steps on her butt before looking at the woman advancing towards her with horror filled eyes. She stands eyes down, apologizing. How old is this girl? She looks only two years old, why is she acting so much older? The woman slaps the girl, hard, right across the face. The sound of it echoes through the large dancing room and yet the girl simply walks back up the stairs, not a single sound slips from her lips. I want to scream, I want to tell that woman off for treating a child like that, but I can’t, my voice doesn’t work and she doesn’t know I’m there. The girl appears, poking her head just so she could watch the grown ups dance, but not be seen. That poor girl… I can’t believe that woman slapped her. That is called child harassment lady! You can go to jail for that! They stopped… they stopped dancing, why? A man walks into the room, dressed in all black. They talk, the man apologizes, the woman cries and her throat is slit, in one swift movement, the man in black silences her screams. The man, who looks to be the woman’s husband, holds her, and looks to the man and black. He whispers something and a knife pierces his heart, causing a river of blood to flow and pool around the couple. The little girl walks down the stairs, not a tear in her eyes. She looks at the man and says “Are you here to hurt me too?” The man shakes his head, “I am not here to hurt you, I am here to hurt them. But you are here, so now I have to make sure you never talk to anyone about this, do you understand?” She nods once, “So you won’t kill me, then? You will only hurt me…” The man in black looked as though he could cry. The girl just smiles and brings his hand up for him to hit her, and hit her, and hit her. He doesn’t stop until she is bloody and I can’t tell where one cut ends and the other starts. Then, just because it is how he has to do things, he cuts into the side of her ribcage the shape of a star. His boss’ signature. I feel my left rib and tears start too poor down my face. I want to leave. This never happened. LET ME LEAVE!

 

     Rosalie’s eyes shot open, her hand was on the star-shaped scar on her left rib and tears were running down her cheeks. The boy beside her was looking at her with a concerned look. Her first instinct was to look down and pretend he wasn’t looking, but Rose just wouldn’t allow that. She wiped her eyes with a Kleenex, while examining the boy beside her. He looked about 16, not very attractive, probably not very popular. He had grey-ish eyes, dirty blonde hair, pale skin, glasses, and his teeth were too straight and too white. She didn’t like him already, but she had to start somewhere. So, not knowing what else to do, she smiled at him and bit her lower lip, her nervous habit.

     “Heh, you look like you’re watching someone die. Do I look that freaked out?” She raised an eyebrow playfully and he seemed to relax a bit.

     “Well when people squeeze their own nails into their own hands hard enough to draw blood, one tends to worry.” He said, teasingly, back. Though, there was truth in his words; her hand hands were bleeding, and the places the blood was coming from were in the shapes of her nails.

     “I suppose you’re right,” Rosalie smiled a cute, half hearted smile and excused herself to the bathroom to wash the blood off her hands. The blood ran down the sink in pink swirls, but to her it all looked like a deep crimson pool of blood, situated around two lifeless parents of a little girl she couldn’t name. She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to extinguish all similarities between herself and the woman who would dare hit her child.  Her blue eyes were the only last distinguishing factor. They had to go. So, she added another mental note onto her list of things to change: get colored contacts, preferably black.

     She didn’t quite want to go back to her seat and talk to the boy she didn’t even know the name of quite yet, so she stayed in the bathroom, thinking of those last few moments with Kyle. Everything had gone wrong the second he expressed his feelings for her. Rosalie had never been one for emotions, never had a crush, never “loved”,  never hated, never cried. It just wasn’t something she’d cared for. To her, emotions seemed like an impossibility, or perhaps just something she could live without. Another mental note: force self to have a crush. With that she headed back to her seat, back to the boy she would test her flirting skills on.

     “So, what’s your name?” He asked when she had taken her seat once again.

     “Rose, yours?” She replied as she sat sideways in her seat, knees up to her chest, arms around them, looking at the boy directly now; she hated to speak to someone and not look at them.

     “Rae. You know, that looks really uncomfortable.” He cringed jokingly as he spoke.

     “Au contraire, it is very comfortable, try it.”

     “I’m not made to bend like that, I’d get stuck.” He laughed a bit as he spoke, imagining himself trying to get into a position like that. He was well built, with muscular legs and arms, and you could see his chest muscles through his shirt. Rosalie reconsidered how attractive he was and decided maybe he was more popular than she had first assumed.

     “Suit yourself.”

     “So, do you play any sports?”

     “I like ultimate Frisbee, but I want to take up track as well. What about you?”

     “I play football, but don’t worry, I’m not a complete airhead.”

     “Could have fooled me,” with this Rosalie smirked and they laughed. The two small talked about school, where they lived, or rather where he lived, and where she was moving, and argued a bit about various topics like whether or not Edgar Allan Poe is a good writer, or if the Super Bowl is worth watching, or if the summer is better than the winter. Rosalie was finding it easier and easier to fake a smile and giggle a little at his jokes. She managed to make time fly fairly fast, because before either of them knew it, they were landing in Seattle and it was time to get off of the plane.

     “Mind if I get your number? Your new place is near mine, maybe we can hang?” Rae asked as he grabbed Rosalie’s bag from the overhead compartment.

     “Sure, sounds fun,” She said as she reached into her purse for a pen and paper, then had him turn around so she could use his back as a writing surface. She put the number in his back pocket, took her bag and began walking off the plane, her face slightly pink, not checking to see his reaction.

     When she got off the plane she found Amanda and Sean waiting for her, and they already had retrieved their baggage.

     “All of our stuff is waiting for us at home. We had most of the fernature and things shipped a couple days ago so that it’d be here and waiting.” Sean said, handing Rosalie her bags, which had everything she had needed for school that day and getting ready (clothing options, makeup, books, shoes, purse options).

     “You mean our house. Home is back in Alaska.” Rosalie snapped and walked off where she knew a taxi would be waiting for them.

Author's Note

Tell me how it's going, and if there's something you'd like to see happen, let me know and I'll see if I can work it into one of the future chapters. Character feedback is encouraged and please tell me how I'm doing with my details and if you'd like more of something or less of something, thank you

Reviews

[Neronine]

I hope to see more from you. I love to read your writings. I think "Rain Kissed Secret" said more than I ever could.

[Rain Kissed Secret]

"Though, there was truth in his words; her hand hands were bleeding, and the places the blood was coming from were in the shapes of her nails." only one hands.

Soo... Rae huh? Interesting. Reminds me of a girl though... but, you have to love his muscles and stuff!!

I love the whole mask thing. (who does that remind you of?? *rolls eyes*) I love how we can see her thoughts as she does them, and how she doesn't pay attention to the reactions. I thought that was great, and a hint to boot! What a plus.

Uhn.. anyway. Lets see.. As I said, the dream. Its detailed, lots and lots, and its your detailed... I feel that its missing the mystery at least. Its great. Truly it is, but its not as great as I wanted it. Which, is hard to do, Nit Picky and all. (who would have imagined)

I think that about covers it.