Demon's eye

Chapter 1: Life

     Predawn light filled a morning sky, turning it turquoise and yellow with the shades of dark blue beginning to die. The Catalina mountains faded from dark brown to purple and magenta. Shadows were cast onto empty streets and houses. Soon, a bright gold-red sun peeked through the top of Black Mountain, and clouds were painted shades of vibrant purple, red, orange, and pink. The light made my room glow as the sun rose in my window through the blinds.

     I was already awake. Nightmares had interrupted my peaceful sleep and caused me to wake up with screaming, with a cold sweat. As I decided to sit up, however reluctantly, my bedsheets covered and twisted around me. The light creeping on my blinds was getting gradually brighter. Mourning doves were starting to make their daily cooing. I stretched, stood up, and yawned.

     My curly black hair looked, as always when I woke up, like a mini tornado had tried it's hardest to make a mess, sprawling across my shoulders and sticking up in random directions. I walked out of my room into a hallway. My buttermilk skin glowed eerily in the dark. Since there are never any lights in our house to turn on, I'm used to it, so I didn't have to worry about stepping on stuff.

     Our family is not really accustomed to the whole technology deal. My parents never really explained why. My family is made up of my mom, dad, my older brother, and my little sister, and me.

     As I walked to the very end of the hall, to the left, I saw my older brother, Jake snoring with blankets in a mess on his bed. He has a tall, muscular build and movie-star looks.

     He has short black hair, piercing gray-blue eyes, a square jaw, pale skin, and a boyish grin that makes all the girls drop their skirts. He's funny and can be sweet when he wants to, but he plays a dumb asshole to win the favor of the guys at school. Whenever it comes to girls, he becomes a stereotypical football jock. He's planning on joining the military when he's 20. 3 years from now.

     When I looked to the right, I saw my little sister, Opal, sitting up, already awake. She looked terrified.

     Opal was a small 6-year-old. Straight, white blond hair reached to her waist and covered her right eye. Her eyes were gray with a tint of silver that gave an impression of unusual knowing and intelligence. She has a pale, round face that is dotted with freckles. She has a lithe form that most people mistake as weak and skinny. You don't want to make her mad. Underestimating her is the last thing you want to do.

     I walked over to her bed and sat next to her, stroking her hair.

     "Opal, what's wrong?" Tears streamed down her face.

     "I had the dreams again, Violet. They were worse this time." I gasped and hugged her.

     The "dreams" we're visions that only my sister, brother, and I had known about. We didn't want to ask our parents, since they were too busy already. We also didn't want them to think we were freaks. The worst part? We figured out that these dreams come true somehow, at some point in your life. Hers had been about ghouls and vicious beasts haunting her.

     Imagine souls, black, sickly green, and gray, with disfigured attributes. They all just moan, as if in pain. All scary, all mean. Opal hadn't really said anything else about it. Other than they started about when she was 5 and a half. The dreams last until you're about 17 or 18. Jake's had ended early. The lucky bastard.

     Mine had been frighteningly similar to Opal's. I had always found myself in my room. Its dark, and I see black-green ooze melting off the walls. The floor smells and is scarlet and feels sticky, so I can only guess what it is. The thought of so much blood spilled makes me nauseous. I look out the window and I see nothing but black. If anything, I think the window is emanating blackness. The only reason I can see is because of the demons. There are about 100 trying to crawl into my room. They're humanoid and all of them are disfigured in some sort of way. Most are missing limbs. Some of them have missing heads, twisted limbs, body parts eaten... They are making a greenish glow. I try to get as far away as possible by climbing onto my bed, but the gnashing teeth and raking claws grow closer and closer. The putrid smell of death and decay comes so close I can barely stand it. Things start to grab on to my leg, then waist. Teeth are digging through my flesh as they start tearing me apart. Soon, I hear my leg break and the lower half of my calf comes off. I scream. Now, they've reached my chest and head. I feel pressure on my neck. I feel them digging their sharp claws and nails in my neck until I hear a sickening crack, and I wake up. This is every time. Some nights it's worse.

     Its not just the dreams that are scary, but it's the fact that they are going to come true in some way or another in your life.