The wind was a violent crash of air, whipping the branches outside the window around, making a high whistle. The clock on her wall ticked, and she heard a small noise next to her. Her eyes darted over the bedsheet but saw nothing.
The clock read eleven-thirty. She could not sleep.
"Dahlia..." A voice whispered.
"Tommy?" She replied in the dark, looking around.
She shook her head. She was hearing things. Tommy was gone...
"Dahlia..." She heard again, feeling something brush against her arm.
Her lips quivered. "No, you're dead..." She cried, sitting up, pulling at her hair. Tears lined the rims of her eyes.
She opened her eyes. The faint outline of a bright light, and a siloughette...
