As Told By Nerdy

Chapter 8 - Disaster Magnet

“Well, I must endure the presence of two or three caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies. It seems that they are very beautiful.”

                                                                            --An excerpt from The Little Prince 

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Chapter 8 – Disaster Magnet

I opened my eyes just to find out that the horrible night I thought was a dream, was in fact a reality.

For once I dreaded going to school. If I could just bury myself under the ground, I’d go straight to our backyard, next to my dog Shaggy and the other two gold fish I had tried to raise with not much success. I forbid myself to recall the past several hours. Rubbing the grain of sleep from my eyes, I went straight to the shower, jumped into my school clothes and combed my hair haphazardly.

Before I could hobble out of my room, I cursed, throwing my bag back to the old dresser that used to be my mom’s and sat slapping my hand on my temple. It was a Saturday. I moved in a languid attempt to change again, groaning as I undressed and muttering curses as I pulled the long sleeved shirt down my head.

At least I still have two days to delay my next encounter with Leon. My face turned warm and red again as I curled up and buried my face on my knees, rocking in an austere, futile attempt to clear my mind.

I yawned. I slept late last night but I did not hear the guests leave. They must have had a ton of fun. My mind raced in a sudden flicker of fear.

Mom!

I hurdled down the stairs swiftly, (I didn’t know I could run so fast!) my heart racing in my chest in a frantic gallop. “Mom! Are you there?!” I bellowed almost indignantly.

No answer.

Mom was gone! Arthur might have kidnapped her to use her against me. Why else would he befriend my mother?

“Mom!” I scuttled to the living room. No Mom. “Mom, where are you?!” My voice let lose the panic that welled up in my chest. “Mom!” I screamed, running aimlessly, toppling a flower vase as I did. To my relief, Emma (also known as Mom) came stomping from the kitchen, both arms folded on her chest, glaring at the pieces of the white vase on the floor.

“Sarah Johannes Littman!” Mom groused furiously. “You better explain yourself young lady, or I will have to ground you ‘til college!”

“I… I was—“ I desperately racked my brain for any excuse; to stray the topic off the broken vase. “I had a nightmare…” I mumbled hesitantly.

A hint of astonishment painted on her porcelain face. I didn’t usually tell her about my dreams or nightmares. In fact I rarely do tell her anything. For fifteen long years we coexisted in an inevitable, distant liaison. Emma cocked her head, curiosity in her eyes.

“In the dream, you were kidnapped… because of me.” I avoided her eyes.

She seemed to overcome her curiosity and headed to the kitchen beckoning me to trail behind. I sat stiffly, folding my hands over the table, watching Emma pull out a rectangular tin baking pan from the oven then carefully placed it on the wire rack in front of me. It was a huge chocolate cake that smelled like hazelnut and vanilla.

“And why was that?” She finally spoke as she set a plate of carbonara for me.

I twirled the pasta on my fork, and stared at it blankly for a few seconds. “I… don’t know.”