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Okay, so maybe Bronte wasn't the best at sleeping.
But hey, can you blame her?
Everytime she closed her eyes, her dreams were filled with her not so dead brother who just happened to be evil, crazy monsters hunting her down, and literal gods wanting to kill her.
Not the easiest thing to think about while falling asleep.
Even now with it being the night before the last day of school, she should have gotten plenty of sleep...but she didn't.
Instead, her dreams were filled with her best friend, Cooper, running down the streets of St. Augustine.
He had sand caked into his fur, his pupils in slits–something a goat does when he is terrified. He held his fake shoes in his hand (yes, fake shoes, Cooper is a satyr), as palm trees bent almost to the ground from the wind.
He was running from something...and he was running with someone.
Not too far behind him was Grover, Bronte's other friend. He clopped down the streets, his head spinning around in a circle, trying to find a safe place to hide.
A bone-rattling growl cut through the storm. Behind the two satyrs, at the far end of the block, a shadowy figure loomed. It swatted aside a street lamp, which burst in a shower of sparks.
Bronte didn't know what was going on, but stood on the sidewalk, watching her two friends run for their lives. She felt almost as if she were invading their privacy, until she heard Grover mutter, "Have to get away. Have to warn them!"
She couldn't see what was chasing them, but boy did she hear it. The ground shook as it got closer. Grover and Cooper darted around a corner, entering a dead-end courtyard full of shops.
There was no time for them to back up. The nearest door had been blown open by the storm. The sign above the darkened display window read: ST. AUGUSTINE BRIDAL BOUTIQUE.
Cooper didn't take a second before grabbing Grover's hand and pulling him inside. They dove behind a rack of wedding dresses.
The monster's shadow passed in front of the shop. Bronte could now smell it–a sickening combination of wet sheep wool and rotten meat and that weird sour body odor only monsters have, like a skunk that's been living off Mexican food.
The saty's trembled behind the wedding dresses. They held each other's hand, never taking their eyes off of the windows in front of them. The monster's shadow passed on.
There was silence, except for the rain. Grover took a deep breath. Maybe it was gone.
Then lightning flashed. Bronte glared up at the sky, her hair sticking to her body. The entire front of the store exploded, and a monstrous voice bellowed: "MIIIIINE!"
