Like a Dream

Chapter 3

Brooke’s eyes fluttered open, noticing that she was alone. She heard a quiet sob from her kitchen and feet pacing back and forth. The house was hot and Brooke felt like she was going to puke. She was about to get up, until she heard whispers from the kitchen.  “What are we supposed to do?” She heard her father ask. It was a rhetorical question. They couldn’t do anything. They could wait. Wait to find out what happened. Wait to hear who it was. Wait to plan a funeral. Wait to figure out whether the casket would be open or not.

Brooke hoped the casket would be open, though it probably wouldn’t be. The wounds there were-were probably too disturbing to be shown to everyone. Though, Brooke wouldn’t mind, from seeing it earlier. She felt like she owed it to her sister- to at least look at her during her own funeral. It was an odd thing to think about. Brooke always felt like she’d be the first in the family to die, even before her parents. It was an odd thought, but that’s how she felt.

The piercing sound of the door bell ringing echoed through Brooke’s ears. She groggily stood up and made her way over to the door. She pulled it open slowly and rubbed her temple. Brooke had a massive headache and the noise didn’t help. Her hair was a mess and she just looked plain awful. Brooke was squinting, the lighting in the house hurting her eyes. Once the door was open, Brooke realized how late it was. The street lights were on and every few minutes a single car would drive by. Brooke looked up at the figure standing in the door way. As soon as Brooke realized who it was, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. His hands fell around her waist as he lightly kissed the top of her head.

The two just stood in the doorway for a few minutes, saying nothing. Brooke could smell the cologne he’d always wear, and it made her comfortable. It wasn’t something completely new, which was good. After a few more seconds of hugging, Brooke grabbed the boys hand and slowly walked over to the staircase that leads to the basement. The boy shut the front door behind him and followed Brooke down the stairs, not saying a word. As the two made their way into the basement, the tall boy shut the door behind him and locked it, without Brooke noticing.

Once the two reached the small couch that was pushed against the wall, Kevin took a seat and Brooke lied down, resting her head in his lap. She looked up into his gentle eyes as a couple tears fell down her cheeks, the day’s events coming back to mind. A sad smile was forced onto her cheeks as Kevin pushed a few locks of hair out of her face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, returning  her sad smile with one of his own.

“It’s not your fault… You didn’t kill her…” Brooke said, her voice shaky and cracking halfway through the second sentence. Brooke sat up, collapsing into a fit of tears. She didn’t want to think about it at all. Why would she? Brooke wrapped her arms around Kevin’s neck and let her face fall into his shoulder. Normally, Brooke didn’t cry this much. But normally, stuff like this wouldn’t happen. Kevin was always there for Brooke. And in Brooke’s mind, he was amazing, caring a sweet. But that wasn’t really Kevin. Kevin was sneaky and took advantage of Brooke, a lot. He never seemed like he did though, but he was sly and devious boy.

Kevin silently rubbed Brooke’s back, up and down, getting lower each time he did. Brooke didn’t notice though, too busy crying. A tingly feeling formed in Brooke’s stomach as she felt Kevin softly press his lips to her neck. She felt herself falling into his trap, once again. But Brooke had no clue it was a trap. Brooke was too innocent. Too naive. Brooke was the type of girl that would never start something with a boy, but would never say ‘No.’ or ‘Stop.’ or ‘Don’t touch me there.’ or anything along those lines. She’d just let things happen and hope for the best. 

Soon enough, Brooke was laying down on the couch, Kevin on top of her. His hands slowly trailed up her shirt as Brooke just lied there, letting it happen. She wasn’t going to stop him, but she wasn’t going to encourage him by kissing back or something.