[FEAR STREET X OCS]
"The more that you say, the less I know. Wherever you stray, I follow."
All Reyes ever wanted was simple; defeat Sunnyvale, reunite her two best friends who had been torn apart by misunderstandings, and maybe, just maybe, convinc...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
XVI. the plan
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Clara was having dreams again.
They weren't necessarily nightmares, nor were they pleasant visions. Each morning, she awoke with a sense of unease, a faint whisper of something important slipping through her fingers. The content of the dreams remained elusive, but the fear was palpable, like a shadow lurking just beyond the edges of her consciousness.
"Clara! You can't expect me to make breakfast all on my own!" Matilda's voice rang up the stairs, sharp and impatient.
With a reluctant sigh, Clara swung her legs over the side of her bed, her feet touching the cool floor. She could hear the clatter of dishes and the rustle of cloth from the kitchen below, the familiar sounds of her sister's morning ritual. Clara and Matilda had been alone for quite some time now, ever since their parents left the union without a word of explanation. Clara struggled to reconcile the memory of their kind, selfless parents with the silence that followed their departure. It was so unlike them, a riddle with no answer.
In defiance of their confusion and grief, Clara and Matilda had decided to leave the union too, when the time was right. But that time felt as distant as the dreams that haunted her nights.
Clara trudged into the kitchen, grabbing a glossy red apple from the bowl on the counter before taking a seat at the worn wooden table.
"And what do you think you're doing, young lady?" Matilda said, her voice half playful, half scolding, as she brought out a steaming loaf of bread, golden and fragrant. "You're going to spoil your appetite."
Clara stood and leaned over to inspect the warm bread; her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "How did you bake that? You've never baked before!"
Matilda brushed a stray hair behind her ear, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Pastor Miller is coming."
Clara's heart sank, a tight knot forming in her throat. Pastor Miller was kind, too kind, in fact. They needed his approval to take some supplies before they could leave the union, and while Clara had faith that he would help them, she couldn't shake the anxiety that gripped her. The townspeople would not be so easily swayed, and Pastor Miller cared deeply about their opinions.
