A Dream Chronicle

1

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ⓢilence. The wind only carried silence. Nothing to be heard, except silence. Not even a car, cat, man or woman was to be heard from beyond the window. It touched each man like a chilling hand that spread to each person, as if it were a disease. You could hear the floor boards creek from two floors below, it was so quiet.

I couldn't fall asleep. I always would become soundly asleep at the distance noises of cars and buses, and the faint night lights of the shops, car lights, and the busy streets' lamp posts, but in this cottage we were surrounded by trees and dead, empty land.

Nothing else.

The holiday was now turning into a nightmare. Melissa, gone away for weeks on end with business, little, annoying Caleb off with his mates at a sleep over, then spending the week or so with Nan and Grandad, so it was just Dad and I, alone. For two whole weeks.

It's not that I don't love Dad, I really do, it's just after Mum died and Dad married Melissa, things have been different. Caleb really likes her, I somewhat do, but she's hiding something. Obviously! But I just can't put my finger on it.

Lying in bed, watching the whole world go by, I get a message on my phone. I try and hide it under the covers, not wanting Dad to hear it go off and come up. The trip was supposed to be a "Communicating Experience", as Dad put it, and he didn't know I had my phone with me. Dad's all about trying new things that take up less screen time, like pottery classes near Melissa's work, taking Tishka for a walk as a family near the local park, or even having a family picnic with little sandwiches and ginger beer for all. But that was before Mum died, and so this was the first time we got out properly since then.

The message I got was from Angela, my old best friend from the all girls school I went to before I moved to St. Victoria's School, which was an ordinary school where Caleb could go as well, but he'd be four years below me. Angela was telling me all about her new friends, which was ok, and I told her all about this holiday we'd just arrived at. Hours later after trading news of our lives, my phone died, and Dad didn't bring any chargers.

That was really it. No communication with the outside world, just me and Dad, for two weeks.

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The next morning I wake up to the sound of the kettle whistling away. I rolled over and looked at the old bed side clock, 6:00am.

"Robyn, come down!" Dad called me from the miniature kitchen downstairs. I groand and pulled the covers over top of me. I wanted to lie on bed all day, but that would be impossible for Dad to cope with.

☪Rustling of trees, crunching leaves, where was I? "Hello!?" No answer. I was lost. I didn't even know if I was still in England. The star shone brightly.
It glared at my face.
Scouring in shame.
Mum? Was it you?
Couldn't have been!
All of a sudden I fell into the leaves, pushed, even. Falling down to the cushioning leaves which in actual fact didn't seem as soft as I thought, almost like tumbling over onto the cement pavements of London.
The light was still there, shaking me as if I was having a seizure.
No! No!
No!☪

The next thing I knew, my clock showed 7:00am. Dad was there, sitting on my bed, shaking me to wake up. I must have fallen asleep for a whole hour! I apoligised to Dad, and drank the pulpy-orange juice he put on the bed side table.

Feeling guilty, I immediately got dressed and hurried downstairs to join Dad for whatever activity he wanted to do. Even though I just wanted to go swimming and find a nice book store down in the village a few miles away.

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"Efforts and courage are not enough without purpose and direction."☪

-J. F. Kennedy