It's always the same dream, over and over again. It's the same boy, with neon-blue eyes. And the same ... creature.
It always starts with Ms. Blaine talking about some lesson. I'm always too busy staring out the window, daydreaming, to pay attention. I look down at my notes, only to find myself writing "Marie and Adam" with a heart around it.
"Marie?" At the mention of my name, my head shoots up immediately. "Are you listening?" Ms. Blaine raises her eyebrows. "Because you look far away."
I shoot her a bittersweet smile. "I don't know what you could possibly be talking about, Ms. Blaine. I'm listening, and may I say, your lesson plan today is absolutely fascinating."
"Then what did I just say?"
Before I can gather a quick response, my thoughts are cut off by a gasp of shock from one of my classmates. "What is that?" I hear someone yell in astonishment.
That's when the screaming always begins. I look around in alarm to see everyone else staring at the window in fright; there is a curious shine to their gazes as they gape. It sends a chill down my spine. Then I see what is outside of the window—a ... thing in a pitch-black cloak. Whatever it is, it has bright-red eyes, and those eyes stare at me briefly before they flicker to someone else in the class—the boy with the bright-blue eyes. I have never seen him before in my life.
A few desks away from me, he is the only one not staring out the window. In fact, he is staring intently at me, and there is shock, protection, and confusion on his face. His gaze keeps switching from me to the figure behind the window.
I feel a strange push/pull; one is heaving me toward the window, the other is luring me over to the boy. It reminds me of one of those ancient punishments, when there would be people on either side of you, and they would pull you by your limbs until your bones gave out. Then they would burn you. Pleasant. But this burning isn't on the outside; it's in my head. It's as if my brain is on fire. The burning is a screeching noise that it appears only I can hear.
I watch as the glass window breaks; shards fly everywhere as the figure steps into the classroom. Once the cloaked person/creature takes a step toward me, the imaginary noise gets louder until it is all I can hear. Abruptly my body shuts down from the screeching, and I collapse. The last thing I hear is someone screaming my name, and then I wake up in my bed.
YOU ARE READING
SHATTER
Teen Fiction"He leaned in so close that for a second I thought he was going to kiss me. Then he pulled back and remained quiet for a little while, until he spoke in a low voice. "Marie, there's something I need to tell you." While average teenage girls have to...
