Echoing Dreams

Emily Frank

Paralyzed with fear, Emily felt a hellish dread grip her soul as her feet refused to move. The shadows around her seemed to come alive, unfurling grappling claws that crept closer. She screamed in terror, a desperate plea for help, but it fell on deaf ears. As her gaze flitted to the people around her, they appeared almost ethereal, like figures carved from glass. Their eyes were dull, their smiles eerily artificial, and not a single one stirred. The oppressive silence crushed Emily's heart, amplifying the sounds of her unseen hunter tearing through the night. Her calls for help dwindled to a faint whisper, until at last, only a single, desperate word managed to break free from her trembling lips... "Lidia."

Emily Frank jolted awake with a sharp gasp, her blue eyes darting around in a frantic attempt to anchor herself to reality. "Just a dream, it was all just a dream," she whispered to herself, her voice tinged with relief as she massaged her tired eyes before groping for her glasses. She sprang out of bed, nearly slipping on the polished floor as her pink socks glided across it. In the bathroom, she gazed into the mirror, her sleep-heavy eyes gradually focusing as she washed her face with deliberate care. Running her bamboo brush through her silky blonde hair, she gently untangled each knot. A touch of light makeup later, she drifted back to her bedroom. Emily was never one for mornings; no amount of sleep seemed to fend off her perpetual exhaustion. She lingered there, lost in a vacant stare, until the need for clothes snapped her back to the day ahead.

Clad in a light yellow shirt and floral shorts, Emily descended the stairs, lured by the promise of breakfast. "Banana and strawberry smoothie for everyone this morning!" announced a tall, striking woman, vigorously shaking a bottle. This proclamation was met with a chorus of groans from her husband. "What's the matter, Hammond?" she asked, her tone tinged with annoyance as she fixed him with a stern gaze. "Oh, nothing, Norah. Just daydreaming about bacon every now and then," retorted Hammond Frank, nonchalantly scrolling through his phone, unfazed by his wife's disapproving look. Norah Frank, standing tall, placed the smoothie bottle on the marble countertop with a flourish. "If you're craving something different, feel free to hire a chef. I refuse to even entertain the idea of cooking that greasy nonsense, especially after the doctor's advice against salty, fatty foods."

"Good morning, Emily," Norah said, her voice warm as she suddenly noticed her daughter in the kitchen. Emily offered a nod in response, acknowledging her mother without breaking her silence. She reached for a smoothie, her hand grazing the cool glass, and began heading towards the door. "Wait a moment, Em," her father interjected, his tone more forceful than usual. "I was thinking it's time we focus on your speech training, with your tutor, of course." Emily's gaze dropped, and she nodded again, a silent agreement. In her family, speeches were an art form, integral to their grand fundraisers. Her father, a master orator, could sway any crowd with his eloquent words. Her mother, equally gifted, charmed everyone with her sweet voice and sharp wit. But Emily Frank was different. Words seldom passed her lips, creating an ever-present divide within her family, a silent gap she couldn't bridge.

Finally, Emily stepped out the door, her white sneakers lightly grazing the grass as she moved with purposeful strides. Her journey to school was a brief one, thanks to her parents' insistence on living near the best educational institution for her needs. This short commute served as a fleeting respite, a brief interlude of peace before she faced the challenges and tribulations that awaited her throughout the school day.

At school, Emily existed in a world of her own. Despite having all the trappings that typically garnered popularity, she remained an enigma, her reluctance to speak setting her apart. Words rarely escaped her lips, and this silence formed an invisible barrier between her and her peers. Yet, in the solitude of her own company, Emily found solace. She immersed herself in the world of academia, where her brilliance shone. Her academic achievements were more than just accolades; they were a refuge, a source of profound comfort in her otherwise isolated existence.

In class after class, Emily moved through her day with a singular focus, her attention solely on fulfilling her responsibilities. Her performance outshone her classmates, who seemed more interested in flaunting their status than in their studies. Crestwood High was a haven for the affluent, a place where self-absorption reigned supreme. The students, preoccupied with their own egos, rarely looked beyond the immediate moment, their thoughts fixated on the next big stunt to impress their peers rather than on the future that lay ahead.

At lunchtime, Emily settled into her usual spot, her plate filled with fruit salad and avocado, cream cheese, and tomato toast. Her gaze never wavered from her meal, a deliberate focus meant to shield her from the overwhelming bustle around her. The constant cacophony of her school environment often sent her into spells of freezing stillness, her heart pounding in sporadic bursts of anxiety. Amidst the din and chaos, she harbored a deep yearning for the tranquility of being homeschooled, a longing for a haven far from the noise and commotion of school life.

The ambient noise in the cafeteria suddenly swelled, drawing Emily's attention. Zack Deon, her flamboyant classmate, had clambered atop a lunch table, basking in the spotlight. His girlfriend, Harmonie, watched with an eager grin, her excitement palpable as Zack called out to capture the undivided attention of the entire room. Emily's gaze drifted upwards, locking with Zack's in a moment of quiet curiosity. She knew from experience that while Zack's announcements were never trivial, they seldom held any real substance or intellectual meaning.

Zack cleared his throat, its raspy tone slicing through the din of the cafeteria, and launched into his self-proclaimed important announcement. "Today, my fellow classmates, I am thrilled to reveal that I have won the heart of the fairest dove, who has joyfully agreed to marry me!" A collective gasp rippled through the room. Harmonie, beaming with delight, clutched Zack's outstretched hand and ascended the table beside him, flaunting her glittering diamond ring. After a moment of stunned silence, the room erupted into a cacophony of cheers and applause. Emily, however, quietly sank back into her seat, her mind swirling with thoughts. "Getting married at 18?" she pondered inwardly. Only two years shy of that age herself, the idea of settling down so young seemed unfathomable to her.

The day, surprisingly eventful, finally wound down, and Emily made her way home with an unusual eagerness. Her mind was set on completing her homework swiftly, all to savor some precious moments of reading. The thought of a lengthier day ahead, with a scheduled session with her tutor, weighed on her. Once inside her room, she closed the door with a gentle click. As an only child, the house embraced her in its usual, serene quietude, amplified by the absence of her parents, still occupied with their work. The solitude was a familiar comfort, a haven where she could lose herself in the pages of her books, undisturbed.

As the evening hours slipped by, Emily succumbed to a deep slumber. The clock chimed 7:30 PM, its melody echoing through the quiet room. In her sleep, Emily's consciousness ebbed away, drifting into a shadowy realm. She navigated through a throng of eerily smiling glass figures until she encountered Harmonie Wilkins, Zack's newly betrothed. Harmonie's grin was wide, her diamond ring appearing unnaturally large, almost surreal. Unaware of Emily's gaze or the impending danger, Harmonie failed to see the knife swiftly approaching her. A piercing scream shattered the silence, and blood splattered onto Emily, painting a horrific scene. She watched in terror as Harmonie collapsed, her life ebbing away, yet her ring sparkled with an eerie brilliance. Desperate, Emily cried out, trying in vain to rouse her fallen classmate. But then, a familiar figure from the dark corners of her nightmare reached for her. Emily bolted, her screams echoing, lungs burning with panic, eyes blurred with tears. Abruptly, she awoke, gripping her book tightly, her eyes stinging as she scanned the darkness of her room. Whispering to herself, she reassured her racing heart, "Just a dream."