After Dusk

Chapter One

With a gasp, I sit up in bed, my skin covered with a sheen of sweat. I let out a worried moan as I hastily inspect my arms and legs, thinking that they must be burnt to a crisp by now. I find my skin perfectly intact, like I didn't just have a glowing orb of . . . something shoved into my chest. Sighing in relief, I rest my forehead on my knees and let out a shuddering breath.

What the hell kind of dream was that? Ugh. I catch a glimpse of the daring romance book I'd been reading laying on the floor. Of course. That's what I get for reading so late at night when I know I always have weird dreams afterwards. That's all the dream was, I reassure myself, my imagination running rampant.

I'm so sorry, my darling.

The whisper glides against my eardrums like a feather, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

My head whips up at a neck breaking speed as I look around my room, expecting to find the woman standing in one of the corners. My fear is for nothing. I find only my art supplies and a couple of paperback books laying in haphazard piles around the room.

I sigh, mentally slapping myself. What is the matter with me? Putting my head in my hands, I mutter, "it was just a dream."

I'm still in this position when I hear the sound of little feet tromping down the hall. My door squeaks open and I look up, trying to compose myself.

"Laila! Laila!" My little sister, Dawn shouts, running into the room with her light blond pigtails bouncing with every step.

"What are you doing up?" I ask her, rubbing my eyes. Terrific. Did I wake up the whole household?

"Look outside!" she says, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me towards the window. I stumble along behind her, my legs not quite ready for the late night hustle. I narrowly avoid stepping on Dawn's doll, the same one I could've sworn I'd tripped on earlier.

Dawn tugging on my hand pulls me from my tired thoughts. Sighing, I pull back the curtains, letting sunlight spill into the room.

I frown in confusion. That can't be right . . .

Glancing over at my alarm clock, I see that it's a little past midnight. I glance back out the window, at the sun rising in the sky. We must've lost power last night, I reason, that's why the alarm clock's wrong. I grab my cell phone, because that'll surely have the right time, but when I look at it, it gives me the same time. 12:13 A.M.

How is that possible?

"What's wrong with the sky, Laila?" Dawn asks, staring up at me with wide, brown eyes.

I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to find the words, but they evade me. What is wrong with the sky?

"I don't know, Dawn . . . Go back to bed, okay?"

"But, Laila!" she protests with a pout.

She clutches my arm with her tiny hands so tight that I have to pry her fingers from my flesh. I look down at her with what I hope is a stern sisterly look.

"Go," I say in a stern voice to match the look.

She pouts again, but walks back out the door. I count to sixty before rushing to my parents' bedroom. I all but burst through the door to find them sleeping soundly in their beds, clueless about what's going on around them. I shake them both awake harshly, calling their names with a hint of fear in my voice.

"What?" Mom snaps finally, hating to be woken up so early.

As an answer, I pull back the curtains, allowing blinding light to fill the room. I gesture to it a little frantically, hoping that she has an explanation for it.