Vampitch

A Dream Or a Sign

A Dream Or a Sign

 I was cold, alone, and unloved all by myself on the trail to something, but I didn’t know what. I laid there on the rock hard floor as I felt death approaching, I closed my eyes in attempt to go safely. I couldn’t help, but cry I never accomplished anything worth remembering, I never got a chance at a life of my own, I never even found love. Tears slowly fell from my face and fast enough they froze where they landed. With every breath I took, I felt ice cold shards in my lungs, I felt myself getting closer and closer to my last second on this planet. I was going to die young, alone, and unloved what a horrid destiny.

The darkness enveloped me. . . . Then silence.

***

It was instantly hot. I was sweating bullets, and there were people around. They were talking but I had no idea what they were talking about. Their voices remained muffled and my eye lids too heavy to lift.

“What the hell, Matt,” a female voice shouted so loud I could hear her even in my distorted state. “What did you do to her?”

His response came in an even tone, “I did nothing. I found her,” then footsteps. A few seconds went by then more footsteps. Silence.

When I awoke, the sun’s beam was hot on my face and my body was tangled in numerous wool quilted blankets. My skin was sticky with sweat, and I was no longer wearing the red shirt and black jeans, which had previously been soaked in melted snow, instead I wore a black button down shirt with silver buttons that stopped a little short of mid-thigh. Though the sun shone on the pillow I once slept on the rest of the room was dark. The bed was a canopy made from what could only be mahogany, sheer white curtains hung from above. The sheets and duvet was a deep red but not quite burgundy, while the pillows, which were scattered all around the room, were black. This was definitely not Krystal Springs.

“You’re awake,” a voice said bringing my attention to the corner in the room furthest from the door.

“Where am I?” My voice cracked when I said this. “How long have I been here?”

The voice, who without a doubt was male, said, “Who are you?” His face remained hidden in the shadows of what must have been his room. His hidden face was nerve wrecking. I wanted to step closer, just close enough to see the outline of his face, but he something in his voice, or maybe it was in the air surrounding him, told me that would not be the best idea I’d ever had.

“My name’s Alajah,” I whispered suddenly extremely apprehensive. How did I manage to get myself in the house of a random stranger, perhaps a dangerous stranger? It was better than dying in the harsh winter of West Virginia, but still. . .

“Alajah,” he said standing up letting the word roll around on his tongue, “a name of power one that exacts recognition.” I had no idea what he was talking about. My real parents named me, or so I assumed, but they hadn’t been there to tell me why or what it meant. Looking up, I saw his 6’1 figure in the shadows. His face was still unclear, but now I wasn’t so sure I wanted to see it. Knowing his height hadn’t made me feel any better. “Interesting. You’ve been in my house for about three days. I found you outside. Way too cold to be outside without a jacket. Just where were you heading?”

Where was I heading? It was a simple question but one for which I had no answer. I was in the woods and I was so close I could feel it but what was it? Why wasn’t I back at Krystal Springs? What would make me trek all the way to West Virginia? How did I manage to get here from Tallahassee? As soon as the questions entered my mind the reality before me fell apart. First the sun, which left me in complete darkness, then the floor beneath my feet. I was left hovering. “Wait,” the male host shouted repeatedly before everything went black.

***

I shot up in my bed back at Krystal Springs. The sun had set while I was asleep. Something about that last dream didn’t sit right with me. It was nothing like my dreams of the past but somehow it felt similar. It just lacked familiarity.

Looking up, I saw them two figures in the dark hovering over my bed. “She’s up,” one of them said.

The other one replied, “Alajah, Trevor wants you.” Billy, without a doubt, that’s Billy, which would make the first one Victor. What could Trevor possibly want to talk about at—

“What time is it,” I groaned.

“Um about 2:30-ish,” one of them replied, I’m not quite sure which one. —2:30 in the morning.