Do You Read Me?

Prologue

The world outside swayed with the battering rain, and trembled beneath the thundering clouds that veiled the sky. The rain trickled down every wall, and sheets of water ran like millions of intertwined rivers down the thick glass on the windows. The screen that flapped uncontrollably on the outside was only kept in by it's frame, screaming with the screeches of the old, creaking house. Only the flashes of lightning lit the dark world that was encased in the fresh rainwater, so cold and dark.

While every other soul in the house was fast asleep, dreaming foolish dreams that could hardly made sense, a child tossed and turned in his bed, memories flashing back to him in his sleep, ones that only in his nightmares he could remember. Their hands like claws gripped around his heart, laughing as he attempted to break free from their grasp, but as long as he was dreaming, he couldn't get away. This is  the way that it always had been, and would always be. But still, he would wake every now and again with a scream of terror--and he didn't know why.

The last crack of thunder pulled back it's whip against the flashing lightning, pulling Robbie's nightmare with it. It drew him out of his sleep like a fish line is pulled out of the water, and his breath was stolen straight from him as he jumped up. He blinked once or twice, choking for the return of his air, and it took him a full minute to realize where he was. He was safe in his bed, with the comforting sound of a thunderstorm on the outside. He thanked the thunder silently as he breathed in deeply with relief.

He was now sitting upright in his bed, trying to stop hyperventilating all on his own in the back of his room. He knew that the Mainsteys would probably still be asleep, so he wouldn't bother them. He could deal with this on his own, as dizzy as he was. And then he would be able to go back to sleep.

Robbie concentrated on deep breaths, as he looked around his spacious room. One couldn't see much in the dark, but there wasn't much to see anyways. There was a closet, a small toy box and a dresser besides the bed he was in. The dresser served also as a nightstand, where a blue lava lamp/alarm clock dimly lit the room with a comforting shade of blue. Every thing was just-so, neater than a pin without even a sock in any corner or dust on the ceiling fan. Robbie was taking care of himself, and naturally, he liked to keep his room perfectly tidy.

The clock, he realized, stated that it was 6:12--twelve minutes past the time he usually got up, anyways. So he decided that after he had calmed himself, he would start on his morning routine right away--though he hardly wanted to go to school. Robbie breathed in and out slowly, and reached for his bear that had been pushed to the other side if the bed while he was having his nightmare. He hugged it close to his chest, and pressed it's soft fur to his face and he tried to get the horrible images out of his head.

There was so much ice...snow...cold. So many faces that he didn't quite recognize were frozen in ice, those terrified expressions plastered to their dead faces forever. And like always, he tried to save them, but they just turned to cold dust at his touch. It was his fault that they were like that, anyways, but he couldn't figure out why. Was he some sort of evil jack frost come in the winter?

But no. It was still August, and only fall was just around the bend. Winter wasn't due until December.

Robbie sighed, his heartbeat now slowed. His breathing was still acting up, but he was calm enough to prevent any sort of attack on his lungs. All he had to do now was focus on his breathing as he got dressed.

Most of the things in his wardrobe were blue, because this was just his favorite color. In fact, just about everything he owned was blue, because somehow he felt comfort in knowing that he was surrounded in his favorite things. Tiredly, he unfolded a grey t-shirt, pulled on some black skinnies and pulled a royal blue sweater-jacket over his head. He jumped into his deep blue chucks as quickly as he could when he was half asleep, and tied the laces out of mere memory. He remembered to make his bed, but did so in the dark because the sudden light would hurt his eyes.Then he combed through his shaggy hair, naturally black as coal, and cleverly covered the scar on his left cheek with it, being careful that his hair would stay that way for the rest of the day.