Dreamwalkers

Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

                “I s-s-say we take her now!” A voice spoke, dragging out the word ‘say’.

                “No! We must wait. They have to come to us.” The world was spinning, and everything was a blur.

                “Please! Sarah! No!” I heard Alma’s voice through all the confusion.

                I tried to open my mouth to reply, but felt as if the air had been sucked out of my lungs. In vain I tried to gasp for a breath, but each time was that much harder than before. Hearing a terrible ripping sound, I looked down. As the world flew around me and I heard my friends and family screaming in the background, I watched my stomach be torn open.

                Everything began to be covered in red. I fell to my knees, suffocating on my own blood and being torn apart from the inside out. Falling back-first onto the floor, I closed my eyes, praying to any God out there to help me. Save me. I opened them to see a little person inches away from my face. One that looked a lot like me.

                I sat up, gasping for breath. Ripping the blanket off of me, I looked down at my midsection. Pulling my shirt up slightly, I placed one of my small hands on it. My stomach was as flat and not ripped open as ever. It had only been a dream. I laid back down, and closed my eyes. It was only a dream.

~0~0~0~0~0~

                Yawning, I got out of bed and walked over to the mirror to inspect my image. I looked like poop. My super-light blond hair, which was usually perfection, was up in a messy bun that was definitely messy. The bags under my mostly green eyes made me look like I had gotten punched in the face, and my usually sun-kissed skin look deathly pale. Honestly. My dream last night must have been horrible. If only I could remember what it was about… Eh, no point. Probably the same one I’ve had a bazillion times.

                Letting out a puff of air that blew my blunt bangs straight into my eyes, I headed for the shower. Time to start my day. I tried turning the nozzle, but the stupid piece of machinery did absolutely nothing. Great. So, five more tries and a lot of bruises later, I had finally managed to get the thing to work. You see, me and my shower have this whole love/hate thing going on. I love taking showers, but my shower hates me. It’s completely ridiculous.

                Stepping out, I grabbed a towel, quickly drying off. I walked to my room, brushing my hair along the way. I was thinking about cutting it, but I’m pretty sure Alma would kill me for cutting off my, quote, “Gor-G baby blond hair.” Yeah, I don’t really get it either.

                I threw on a pair of jeans and a plain T-shirt, and then put my hair up in a simple pony-tail. I wasn’t really in the trying mood. Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to meet any people worth impressing in my house.

                I walked down the stairs, through the kitchen - grabbing a bagel along the way -, then finally made it to my destination: the living-room couch. Right after I sat down I felt my butt start to vibrate.

                I pulled out my phone, talking immediately. “What could you possibly want at 9 in the morning?”

                “Oh, you know,” Alma replied in a light voice, “all kinds of things.”

                I shook my head at her sarcastic come-back. “I’m about the hang up on you.”

                “Calm down, grumpy! I didn’t realize you were in such a bad mood. I just wanted to know if you were free to go the Orange Peel.” Orange Peel is a frozen yogurt store in Lewisville. We had come across it one day after a long –and expensive- shopping trip. Usually, Alma would only eat Yogurt Story, but she was willing to make an exception, which turned out to be a good idea. The yogurt was delicious, and sometimes the lady working the counter would give us extra donuts.