Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Sixty-Two

I jerked awake with a wild gasp, bolting up into a sitting position. My eyes flew around the darkened room, finding everything exactly as it had been before I'd fallen asleep.

My heart was racing; I felt sick to my stomach. I went to wipe the cold sweat off my brow and was surprised to see my hand shaking.

I stared at my hand as it trembled before me, confusion setting in. What was I so terrified of? Had I just woken up from a nightmare?

Yeah... I did, but about what?

I racked my brain, trying desperately to remember what I'd been dreaming about, but came up blank.

Dammit, I thought to myself. This is the third night in a row....

"Brianna?"

My eyes flashed up to the door at the familiar voice, my heart beating so fast I thought it might falter. A second of silence passed as I recognized Mirah, and I let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Are you... all right?"

I nodded, placing my hand to my chest as if that would help slow it down. My head was spinning — why was I breathing so hard?

"Are you sure? Because you look really pale — woah!" Mirah lunged forward as I fell back against my pillows, my head smacking against the headboard. Stars erupted before my eyes as my vision blacked out, and I squeezed my eyes shut, my hands flying up to hold my head.

"Brianna?" Mirah's concern was obvious in her tone, and I tried to tell her I was fine, but I couldn't string the words together.

I waited patiently until the pounding in my head eased, and I slowly opened my eyes, blinking multiple times to get the stars out of my eyes.

Mirah was crouched over me at the edge of my bed, her brow fixed into a frown of worry. "What's going on? Are you sick? Do I need to get Mom and Dad?"

"No, no..." I mumbled, trying to sit up, "I'm fine."

Mirah pushed me back down, looking nervous. "No, stay there. I think I should get Mom —"

"Mirah, don't worry, I'm all right."

Mirah pursed her lips uncertainly, her narrowed eyes carefully studying my face. It almost looked as though she were looking for a trace of madness in my expression.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Mirah met my eyes innocently. "Like what?"

"Like I'm insane."

"I don't know, maybe because I heard you screaming at the top of your lungs, and when I came to check on you, you toppled over and hit your head on the headboard!"

I stared at Mirah, befuddled. "I was screaming?"

"Yeah, I'll say. You sounded like you were being murdered — scared me half to death, you know —" Mirah cut off suddenly, frowning at me with wide eyes. "Hold on... you don't remember screaming?"

I thought about it for a moment before answering, "No, not at all."

"So... you were screaming in your sleep, then," Mirah concluded, now looking slightly alarmed.

I rested my head on my pillow, sighing deeply. "It must've been a terrible dream."

"You mean you don't remember the dream, either?!"

I pressed my lips together, not giving her a straight answer, but Mirah got the gist anyway. Her frown deepened, and she looked at me as though I'd lost my mind. "Yeah... I'm getting Mom. You've gone mad."