Let's Play A Game.

Chapter 6: Dream

Chapter 7: Dream

 The fireflies were just beginning to come out as the sun set in the hot summer evening. My black hair was damp from my sweat and my eyes were slowly closing. I could hear crickets all around me as I swayed back and forth, sometimes catching myself before I fell. I opened my left eyes as I heard a small chuckle.

 The little girl with black flowing hair sat right beside me, dodging every time I almost fell. I crouched beside her, watching her every move. Her smile was as bright as the sun, her eyes a dazzling brown. Just then mother and father walked out and stood on the porch watching me make my little sister laugh.

 "Okay! Enough fun time! Its getting dark, come on in." My mother called over to us. I picked my sister up, and walked to the porch, joining my parents.

 "Pretty strong for an eight year old." my father said, smiling as we walked into the house. The little five year old squirmed in my arms until she was free, and ran to mother. Mother swooped her up into her arms, laughing at Marli's dirtied face.

 Suddenly, they were gone. The warm house I once knew was gone as well. I was swirling through a black hole, and then, I woke up. We were all crowded in a small closet, possibly the janitors closet. Anya was wrapped in a gray blanket in a corner with Heather, and I, Sam under a table, and the two teachers on each side of the door. Frowning, I scrunched my nose at the smell of bleach and mildew.

 I stood without waking the others, and crept along the walls. I found my way around the room until I found myself sitting in a wooden chair.

 I sat there in the darkness, thinking. Eventually, I started to think aloud.

 "Why is this happening? Why us? What did we ever do? Who is the person forcing us to lose our minds? Who's... next?" I whispered into the darkness, hoping an unknown voice would answer my questions.

 Then a light turned on, making me blink. Ms. Young stood by the light watching the sleeping survivors. Her eyes met mine.

 "You're up." she yawned, walking over to me. She pulled a chair next to mine and held my hands in hers. Sitting, she looked into my eyes, watching me intently. "I know you are scared, but you can't let your fear over come you. We'll get out of this. I promise."

 All I could do was nod and add a slight smile. Looking at my worn sneakers, I fought back tears. I wanted to find the person- or thing- that was causing this. I couldn't take anymore deaths. I wanted to be able to play with my little sister again, catching fireflies in clear jars with my family. Hear the chirping crickets at night from the open window, and the birds in the morning. I wanted to go home. And I was willing to do anything to get there.

 Sam's eyes fluttered open, followed by Anya's and Mr. Johnson's.

 "Is it morning?" Anya asked, walking over to me, rubbing her eyes. Mr. Johnson checked his watch.

 "Yeah. Its 2 in the morning." Mr. Johnson said. Sam gathered over.

 "At least we got some sleep." Sam said. Heather still lay in the corner. Her back moved up and down slowly as she slept. Suddenly, we all jumped from a loud sound.

 The school bell had just rang and we all quickly stood to our feet, waiting in painful patience.

 We all waited for the husky voice, but instead we were greeted by a woman's voice.

 "Are you guys ready?" the voice said. I quickly woke Heather up, and we all waited for the directions. "To the hallway, my dears."

 We gathered outside of the janitors closet an stared in horror. Right in front of us was a path of blood, leading down into a dark hallway.

 "Wh- what...?" Heather started, but was interrupted by the woman's voice.

 A squeaky laugh echoed through the hallways as my legs shook. "I like to call this game... Tag. The rules are the same, if you are tagged, you are it. But instead of "tagging" them, you will "stab" your victim. When someone dies, the game is over. Everyone who is hurt will be directed to a first aid kit. That's basically how you play. Anya, you will start. To your right is a kitchen knife. Please use it wisely. Begin!"

 Everyone took off running, thinking to follow the blood. We ran into the darkness, but heard nothing. Anya still stood, frozen in fear, staring at the knife on the floor. It was covered in fresh blood, leaving a puddle behind it. Anya slowly picked up the knife, and stared after me. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was crying. Then, as if an Olympic runner, she took of running, knife in the air, screaming, and running.

 After me.