Poison Ivy

14.

That night I waited impatiently by my window for the first sight of Badge or any one of the shapeshifters. It was hard to tell through the light drizzle. It made everything on my windowpane appear blurry, but tracing the line of the forest there was no movement. It made me wonder if they decided to stop setting up a perimeter around my house. Maybe they figured I'd be able to handle it if any skinwalkers came along. I've learned a lot about my powers since then, but I still don't think I was a match for fifteen of them.

My thoughts drifted to my dream earlier today. It was weird. I've never had a recurring dream before. And if I have then I don't remember it, obviously not leaving with much of an impression. But this dream seemed so real. Felt so real. I could feel the cold pavement beneath my feet and the feeling of dirt between my toes. The rough texture of the rope as my fingers wrapped around it. The cold, metallic ladder as I climbed down it. The smoothness of the tunnel walls and floor.

But why was I having a dream about me crawling into a burrow? And what was in the burrow? It was definitely not an animal. Last time I checked, animals don't have the use for ladders and candles. So it had to have been human. But who? What could they be hiding from? Or who could they be hiding from?

I gave myself a mental shake. This was a dream. A very realistic dream, but it wasn't real. I was tired and stressed, and my brain was trying to entertain me. People don't live in burrows. Animals do. The quicker I'm able to wrap that fact around my head, the quicker I'll be able to move on and forget about it.

There was a knock on my door. "Come in." I said, still staring out the window.

"Looking for something?" My mom asked from the door.

"Not exactly." I said slowly. "Aren't you supposed to be on bed rest?"

"I won't tell if you don't."

I listened as she closed the door behind her, and her heavy footsteps made their way to me. "Mom...why do you and dad fight a lot?" I asked. The question surprised me. I didn't know where it came from.

She froze a moment, and then took a seat next to me on the edge of my desk. "Fight?" She repeated, taken by surprise. "We fight, sure. Your father is very strong-willed and stubborn. But I don't think we fight a lot."

"Yeah." I said slowly. "You do."

"Where's this coming from?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Every couple argues. If not...then I would think something was wrong. But no relationship is perfect, Tatum." She took a deep breath. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

I shook my head. "No." I looked away and peered out the window again. "I was just curious. That's all."

"Just curious?" She thought that over. "Tell me, Tatum. How does a thought like that find its way into your head?"

"I don't know." I whispered, looking back at her. "You and dad seem to be having a hard time lately since I found out about...you know. You cheated on dad. You fell in love with someone else. Since I've found out...there's been this thought in the back of my mind. Why don't you just leave him? You don't seem happy. You fight all the time. Grandpapa and grandmama themselves said you haven't been the same. It just doesn't seem healthy to me. How could two people be meant for each other...if all they do is fight? Are they really in love? Or am I just astounded at the fact that someone out there really does care about me, and I'm scared to lose that person in fear that I won't find anyone else?"

"How you...won't find anyone else?" She questioned, raising her eyebrow.

"Um...I-I meant t-to say you." I stuttered.