Something in the Way You Move [O'J]

Finding Color in the Darkest of Places

Callie's POV

A great burning fire where my house should be...what's going on? I hear sadistic cackles above the roar of the flames. A husky, tall figure slinks into my front doorway, silhouetted almost demonically against the fire. Who is he...?

The source of the cackles. That much is clear as he makes his way over to me. "W-who are you? What happened to my parents?"

An ear-piercing shriek of manic laughter. "Dead!"

"W-what...?"

"Dead! I killed them, hon. They ain't getting out of that fire, you can bet your life on that. Seems they already have...!" Another round of cackles. Back away, just back away slowly...

Someone grabs me from behind. "Not a word. Run. Now. While he's distracted." An urgent, loving, even musical voice that does not match the tall scrawny figure. Before I can think, I am being dragged along. A woman joins the man...half a head shorter. Can I even trust them? Who are they?

The cackling man starts at it again, this time in chase. Running, running faster and faster...but never fast enough. Only a few steps behind, screaming so horribly it would make Satan flinch...

The voice changes. Becomes caring, loving, desperate. Like the scrawny man's minus the musical. Becomes voices. Begging. One word reaches my ears: "Please!"

Hit the brakes. Break free of the strangers' grasp. "What are you doing? We have to get out of here!"

"You need to come home!"

"Her home is with us now, fuck off!"

A fight breaks out. So many punches, so many kicks, so much swearing... Cackling man breaks it apart, holding the stranger and my father apart. "Pick now, hon." Sickeningly sweet.

Parents or strangers? Easy, right? Par---but what about that cackling guy? He said they were dead...so they must be. I can't live with people who aren't alive. It must be strangers. "Him." Point to the scrawny man.

"You fucking traitor!" Ouch. "Traitors don't deserve to live!"

Father released. Mother joins him. Whips in hand as they make their way over to me. Stumble backwards, backwards, fall down... Whips raised, and then falling, falling---

"No!" I gasp, bolting straight up. I look around carefully, praying that I didn't wake up anyone else with my scream. After a few minutes, there is still no sign of stirring. I lean back against the pillow and shiver. That was terrifying. It was just a dream, Callie, just a bad, bad dream. Danny's voice comes back to me through the haze of fear and confusion. It was scarily real: I could feel the heat of the fire, hear the cackling man... Dreams sometimes feel that way. Saved by a memory, yet again. I think about the dream. It's easy enough to figure out who everyone is. The strangers, Danny and Jessie, the cackling man, Clyde, and my parents...well, my parents.

But they didn't approve of me living with Danny.

Oh God, don't be true. I couldn't live with myself if it was. I lay back down and check the watch Aunt Vicky gave me for Christmas. 4:37. I have at least four hours until Danny wakes up. At least. I try to avoid falling back asleep, in case the dream comes back. But after three and a half hours, my eyes close and just won't open again.

---falling, and then crack! Pain so great it rubs my throat raw with a single scream. I'm not the only one screaming...so who else is? Again the whips are raised, again they fall, fall, fall and yet another crack and more blinding pain. Again and again and again the whips rise, and again and again and again they fall with their tremendous cracks. Forever passes, and then: