13. A bad dream

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Hello my pretty little loves. Here's 13. 😊
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"Janelle, go to your room, okay? Please, just... go to your room." Ryan whispered, tears falling down his face.

Ryan was two years older than me. He was twelve. I was only ten. He was smarter than me, and if he told me to do something, it would have probably been best if I did it.

"Okay." I whispered, in a shaky voice. I got up and begun to walk to my bedroom.
"Hurry." Ryan murmured.

My heart had begun to pound, and I ran the rest of the distance to my room. When in there, I searched for a place to hide, out of fear.

In my closet were many clothes. Although I was a fairly tall ten year old, and it would have been difficult to sit crouched up behind jackets and shirts and jeans for who knows how long, I was small enough for it to not be horribly uncomfortable.

So I crouched behind many clothes, hanging on hangers, and lying on the ground, almost positive that I was entirely covered, and I reached out my arm, and as quietly as I could, shut the closet door.

Only minutes after, I heard screaming, a blood curling scream.

"Mom!" Ryan's voice echoed, and I began to cry. My body was quivering, and I wanted to scream myself.

Everything was silent, but only for a moment.

"Dad! She's dead! She's dead! Call an ambulance!" I heard Ryan's words being yelled, and they were said as if he were trying not to sob and-

I wake up screaming.

There are only a few things that I'm aware of at the moment.
1. I am crying.
2. Somebody is holding me.
3. I'm being petted on the head like a dog, and being shushed.

"Shh, baby, it's okay. You're okay."

I sit up in the person's arms. All the events of yesterday return to me. Meeting Jonah, being brought to his house, figuring out that he's a werewolf, meeting his pack.

"You just had a bad dream. You're alright. I've got you." Jonah puts little pieces of hair behind my ears, and he wipes the tears under my eyes. He also gives me a small kiss on the top of my head, and it calms me down. I stop shaking from crying, and he rubs my cheek soothingly.

I notice that I'm in my bed, and I look across the room at his. His covers are thrown on the floor, probably from him running over to comfort me.

He picks me up a bit, and lays me on him. I lay my head on his chest, and I focus on his heartbeat. I lie on him for some time, and when I hear and feel his breathing become deep and steady, I reach my hand up and rub my thumb across his cheek.

Still asleep, one of Jonah's hands lazily lay on top of mine, and I hear a nearly inaudible "Sweetheart."

He talks in his sleep. That is utterly adorable.

Finally content with Jonah holding me, I snuggle up to him, and fall asleep.

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