The Dreamers

Chapter 7

Dun dun daaaaa! Is she dead?! lol jks I wouldn't do that to you guys...not yet anyway... :P

“Keira! Wake the hell up! I swear, you are not leaving me now! Get up and talk to me!”

The sounds were all so muffled. Where was I? Why did everything feel so hazy? I just wanted to sleep. Why wouldn’t they let me sleep?

“KEIRA!”

I woke with a start, coughing violently. I kept coughing up water till my throat was sore and tears came from my eyes.

I cracked open my eyes to see Clara and Janae crying and Mark helping me cough up the last of the water.

I took in deep breaths. I had never missed air so much.

“Oh honey!  Sweetie!” cried Janae, gathering me into her arms, “oh, we thought we’d lost you!”

“Luke, have you packed the things away?” asked Mark. I assumed he nodded because Mark then asked me if I could l walk. I nodded weakly and walked shakily to their car with their help. Luke sat in the front this time and Janae sat in the back. She laid my head in her lap and stroked my hair, singing softly.

I felt so tired, so drained. It felt like it was all a dream. But my ankle was hurting like crazy, even if I hadn’t looked at it yet I knew it couldn’t be fake.

They helped me into the house, where they laid me on one of the couches.

“How are you feeling sweetheart?”

“Water,” I croaked. I was so thirsty. So thirsty.

“Of course. Luke, you heard her.”

Moments later I had a glass of water in my hand and I sipped it carefully, relishing the feeling on my parched throat. The world seemed clearer now and I felt a bit better.

“Ooh. That doesn’t look too good,” winced Luke.

“What?” I asked.

“Do you remember what happened, Keira?” asked Mark, distracting me.

“Ah, I don’t…wait, there was a…an um thing,” I said slowly, as it came back to me. “It was dragging me down. It was saying…it was saying something but I…I can’t remember,” I said holding my head. I hated reliving the experience. I was so sure I was going to die. I looked up suddenly as I remembered how my ankle had been bleeding. “It grabbed my ankle…”

I gasped as I finally saw it. There were 4 swollen, purple balls where I assumed the thing’s claws had punctured. They were the size of large bubblegum lollies and my whole leg burned when they were touched. I winced.

“It was probably a Horror. I can take it away,” said Mark, “But it will hurt,” he warned looking me dead in the eye.

“How much?”

“A lot.”

“Will they go away by themselves?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I sighed and then nodded. I had no choice.

“Why the hell do they even look like that?” I sighed.

“Poison.” He said simply.

Nice.

I watched in amazement as he did various hand gestures which made his hands glow different colours. Finally, they glowed yellow and he held them over the ugly, painful purple balls.

I wish I could say that it barely hurt and that I dealt with the pain calmly. That all I did was wince and everyone was so proud of how well I dealt with the pain.

But I didn’t.

I screamed.

Even with the cloth in my mouth to bite down on, my nails dug into the soft couch. A part of my mind registered that they were nice couches and that I should hold back so that I wouldn’t ruin them.

But the larger part of my mind was saying: IT. BLOODY. FREAKIN’. HURTS.

They ended up having to hold me down because I was threatening to thrash them all in the heads.

For the second time that day, I lost consciousness.