Penumbra

Chapter 1

Early update

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"Jacqueline, Jacqueline, wake up!"

I shoot up in bed suddenly. My heart beats so loudly in my chest that it feels as if it's going to break through my rib cage. As I take in my surroundings, I slowly start to calm down. My comforter is sprawled around me in a heaped mess, and as I look around my bedroom, the pale lilac walls stare back at me. My heartbeat descends from its erratic pace and I force my breathing to slow. Mary stands at my bedside with her eyebrows pulled together in concern.

"You had a nightmare again." She whispers.

"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." I breathe.

"That's okay," she says genuinely. "Can you tell me what it was about?"

"No, Mary, don't worry about it."

"Why can't you tell me? You've been having nightmares almost every night since mom died, but you never tell me what they're about."

"I know," I say, reaching for her hand, "It's my problem though, not yours. I don't want to burden you." That's not the only reason I won't tell her, but I don't verbalize that.

"You're not burdening me," she argues. "I'm 17, I'm old enough to handle it. Please tell me? Talking about it might help you." She says, still showing obvious concern.

"Please go back to bed Mary. It's almost 3:00 in the morning and you have school tomorrow."

Seeing that I'm not going to give in, she slowly makes her way out of my room and heads back to her own, which is across the hall.

"I love you." She says, turning back to look me in the eye at the doorway.

"I love you too, Mary." I return, meaning every word.

After she closes my bedroom door, I let out a big sigh and lean back onto my pillow. I squeeze my eyes shut in a mixture of pain and frustration. My nightmares are draining, not only for me, but for Mary. I know that she worries about me, but I can't tell her what they're about. Because telling her about my nightmares means telling her the truth about what happened to our mother. And I can't let her know the truth.

I toss and turn in my bed for another two hours before exhaustion finally takes over my senses, and I fall into a light slumber.

Only a half an hour after later, my alarm clock starts beeping obnoxiously. I groan internally before turning it off and dragging myself out of bed. I remember the days when I would hit snooze at least six times, wanting to enjoy the comfort of my bed as long as possible. But my bed doesn't seem like such a safe place anymore; merely looking at it reminds me of the dreaded nightmares that it brings.

As I walk out of my bedroom I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror - my dark under-eye circles are more prominent than I would like, and my green eyes seem duller than they once were. My caramel-colored hair falls just past my shoulders in tangled in knots and I frown at the lack of color in my complexion. It's as if all the light has drained from my face. I sigh at the sight, although it is a common one now - dark circles seem to have become a permanent feature of mine. I have barely gotten any sleep for almost five years now, and not even the best concealer can hide my exhaustion at this point.

"Mary! Are you awake?!" I shout.

"Yeah, I'm getting dressed!" She calls from inside her room.

"Okay, I'll start making your lunch then."

"Okay, thanks Jackie!"

I recoil at the use of the nickname.

"Jacqueline." I correct her quickly, with slightly more sharpness than necessary.