monachopsi

four

Light rushed to meet my squinting, tired eyes, a sliver of it falling through the space between the blinds. Groaning, fatigue burning my eyes as I closed them again, I threw a hand up over my face to block out the peaking daylight and rolled over, intending to go back to sleep. Then memories, all crisp and clear and filled with terror, crashed into me all at once and in a torrent. The way the girl had threatened me....the way she had threatened my family made me quiver with rage. I leaped out of bed and threw the door open, wild-eyed as I bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

My mom was standing at the stove top, a tattered robe covering her pajamas, humming under her breath as she flipped pancakes. She raised an eyebrow as I came skidding into the kitchen. 

"You okay, Breckin?" she asked, ceasing her humming for a moment. "You're not usually up this early." I blinked, more than slightly bewildered. 

"Where's Addie?" I gasped, catching my breath. My mother's brows furrowed. 

"Addie? Why...." she shook her head. "She's in the-" Before she could finish her sentence, a little head full of tangled blond hair appeared in the kitchen.

"I'm right here, silly," Addie giggled, running back into the living room to continue playing with her toy race cars and ponies. I let out a sigh and slumped against the counter top. I felt eyes on my face, searching my own quizzically, and glanced up to see my mom looking at me, concern painted on her face in the post subtle hues, in the creases at the corner of her lips and the tightness in her forehead.  

"I'm fine, Mom," I assured her. "Just a...just a nightmare." Which I suppose was the only logical explanation for...for whatever it was that happened to me, although with dreams, they were illogical and messy and out of focus, and most of the time they slipped the mind of the dreamer within minutes of waking up, leaving only the taste of terror on their tongue. This was not like that. The nightmares, or whatever they were, were crisp and clear in my mind, rather like memories.  It was strange and disorienting  and frustrating, yet...I felt like I belonged, in that dream world, as if that was my true home. It was a ridiculous thought, but almost a comforting one. 

She smiled, just a quick movement of her lips, but it was still there as she turned back to the stove top. "I remember when you had nightmares, terrible ones, and you screamed and cried and were inconsolable," my mom said softly. "It's been so long since you've had one. " She glanced over her shoulder at me and sighed. "Is anything going on that I should know about?" 

"No," I said firmly, sidling over to the plate of pancakes on the counter and taking a few for myself. My mother turned the stove off and began to clean up, moving around the kitchen and clearing up the drips of pancake batter on the linoleum. I ate quickly, happy to be reacquainted with the rich taste of my mom's pancakes if only for a little while. Abruptly I moved to my feet and rinsed my plate off in the sink before sliding on a pair of shoes and a coat. "I'm going for a walk," I called, not waiting for a reply as I closed the door hopped off the front porch, disregarding the stairs. 

I wandered down the streets until I hit the edge of my subdivision, the busy road I had to cross until I came to the downtown area and then eventually the woods, a sprawl of undeveloped land that we weren't supposed to go on. Everyone did anyways, and as long they didn't hunt, the landowner turned a blind eye. The little town was more like a mishmash of streets with a main neighborhood and a few blocks with tiny little shops, requiring me to take a bus into the city whenever I wanted to go anywhere of significance. It was a huge change, being adopted by people that lived close to the middle of nowhere when I was so used to the orphanage in the sprawling city of New York. The pleasant memories began here, despite the horror stories of abusive foster families. As far as I was concerned, my foster parents had to earn the title of "Mom" and "Dad", and earn it they did. They cared more than my biological parents. Eventually, they went through with the adoption process. 

Biting my lip thoughtfully, I gazed skyward at the faded blue canvas streaked with feathery white. The sky was darkening, however, an angry splodge of gray creeping its way into the perfect picture. The green of leaves edged into my vision and I looked back to see that I had left the town behind, so lost in thought that I had wandered into the forest. All was silent, as if the forest was holding its breath, an eerie, unnatural silent that crept its way down my spine. Something was very wrong. Eyes wide, I watched as shadows waved and dipped in and out of each other as the sky darkened rapidly. Dizziness wormed its way into my body, and I stumbled, throwing an arm out to catch myself on the trunk of a tree. I closed my eyes, breathing heavily. Icy cold hands closed around my wrist and my eyes flew open to catch a glimpse of blond hair before everything spiraled away into an inky, absolute darkness.