Envision

Chapter 2- Violet

I hit the floor and my eyes fly open. I look around and take in my familiar surroundings. I breath out a sigh. It wasn't real. I'm still in my room.

"Just a dream" I mumble, "How stupid am I? Of course that's all it was..." I look around and uncover my phone from beneath some of the blankets that had come off of the bed with me. I switch it on only to have it flash a notification at me, telling me to charge it. I groan loudly; I really should stop staying up texting and on Twitter. It's really starting to kill my poor phone and the lack of sleep is catching up with me. Oh well I guess; just looks like I'm going to have a bad day, considering how it's started.

"Hey, you know it's more comfortable to sleep on the bed," my brother smirks.

I turn and scowl at him, "Wow, what a genius you are."

"Last time I checked though I'm not the one on the ground in my PJ's."

"What are you even in my room for? I mean seriously, it's a Saturday," I say, pulling the blankets back over my head.

"Remember Violet? We're going to the mall today. I figured you would've remembered considering David is coming," he taunts.

I'm on my feet in a second. I scramble to my closet and try to find any clean clothes. I glance back over my shoulder at my brother, Logan. I get ready to snap at him for bringing up that subject, but instead decide to play along. "What makes you think I want to see David so bad," I inquire innocently.

"Vi, I'm your twin. You can't lie about things like that to me. In all honesty, I'll practically be dating the poor guy 'cause I'm practically there with you for everything." I guess he had a point. The only major differences between us were that Logan was about 6 foot, and had dark black shoulder-length hair, whereas, I was only was 5'5" and had bright blonde hair with dark streaks of blackish-purple. Other than that we were the same. Bright green eyes, a thin, elegant frame and a passion for fine arts like music and art.

I grin to myself "Oh fine, say whatever makes you happy. Just get out so I can change." He holds up his hands in mock surrender and casually walks back down the hall. I kick the door closed and slump on my bed still thinking how he was really the only one there in my life that actually took an interest in my life. I shake my head pushing everything down behind a half-hearted smile and finally settle on dark gray skinny jeans and a white off-the-shoulder shirt.

I dress quickly and bound downstairs to grab some food before we leave. I walk past the TV blaring the 7 o'clock news and faintly hear my mom and brother down the hall. I slip into the kitchen and open the pantry. As I rummage though food to find something appetizing I halfway listen to the news reporter.

"- there was a break in at the state asylum... 6 inmates dead and 3 missing..." I hear reporter said dreadfully. Well that's a bit odd. Why would anyone want to do that? You'd be caught easily. The reporter continued, "Guards on duty claim seeing a hooded figure..."

I start to zone out again as I pull out some cereal. I grab a bowl and pour the cereal and milk. I walk over to the counter and tentatively begin taking a few bites.

I look back up and catch the reporter stating, "-the suspect mainly used a dagger and throwing knives and seemed to disappear into shadows when he was chased."

I choke slightly on my food. What did he just say? I have to be losing it because there's no way someone could melt into shadows...unless you were from a dream. The dumb security guards were probably just tired and seeing things. Suddenly, Logan raises his voice in annoyance, stopping me from thinking any more about it.

I stride out of the kitchen and move down the hallway. I see my mom blocking Logan in a corner waving her arms wildly. She seems to be fussing over all the details for today. She could be a world-class cop by how she threw question after question. However, ever since our father abandoned us when we were five years old, she hasn't been able to get motivated enough to do anything. Once he was gone she just slowly started to lose it. At first, she would only break down and start crying, before disappearing into her bedroom for a few days at a time. Then, when we about eight years old, she started getting her drinking problem. It just spiraled downhill from there as she got more and more violent. Often times, it would range from her smacking us to screaming in our faces: you freaks. You failures. Everything has gone wrong because of you. For awhile it almost seemed like a given fact and motto for us. As we continued to grow up, she would try to steal away our childhood and creativity. Logan always held some hope for our family and believed it was important. But in the end, Logan and I would often close ourselves away and relied on each other growing up and learned one thing from it.

Dream. If we could do that, we could make our life stronger. Make it better. We could take the frailest glass and mold it into beauty. We could form new shells for ourselves and push through hardships like a ram. We would grow, and cocoon over our brittle inside and past. We could dream.

As we got older, we ignored her abuse and lived on. She slowly realized she couldn't damage us more and now she generally curls up on the couch and binge watches soap operas. But there was still the occasional times like this where she became so invested in prying everything she could from us. I suppose it could be some maternal instinct and she was trying to be protective, but I could just feel how agitated Logan was getting. He had always hated to be questioned and not have someone just trust him instead. Luckily for him, the phone starts to ring saving him from any further trouble from our mom. She gives a slight huff and walks over to pick it up, focusing on what the person on the other end is saying. I take the brief distraction and pull my brother toward the door. We hop into our dad's old truck and start the engine. As we started to drive away, I see my mom run out the door and practically yell to us to come back. She had a look of terror on her face and I barely made out the words as she yelled, "They're out there. They're coming."