CHAPTER 1
I wake up and take a look at the clock on the nighstand. 4:09. I’ve been having a lot of nightmares lately, most of them about embarrassing myself in front of my history class messing up my presentation about the Spanish-American conflict, but this one was different.
I was in this dark small rooms. No doors or windows. Suddenly a ghostly figure loomed in front of my eyes making a grey hue that I saw first into an old lady with long red hair staring at me with dull grey eyes. It looked that she wanted me to know something, but no sound came out of her mouth. The only words I could get out by reading her lips were “smooth” and “cake”. I’m not good at reading lips.
She looked desperate and frustrated because of the fact she couldn’t fully reach to me. As I take a small step towards her, she tries to run to me, but her feet are stuck to the ground by big chains. She screams and everything goes pitch dark.
I drag myself out of bed and I walk down the stairs on the tips of my toes so I wouldn’t make noise and wake my annoyngly-light-sleeping family. I walk across the very busy looking living room, full of colorful blankets and furniture that match the teal walls and make my way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of Mountain Dew. I take a sip and put it back into it's place on the fridge.
As I walk back to my room I spot a little girl sitting in the staircase. Her clothes are ripped and there's a big blood stain on her chest. I immediately take a few steps back and I stop when the kitchen wall is against my back.
I hear steps louder and louder every time and I cover my mouth with my hands. Shit, I'm going to die. I never thought that my dead was going to be like this, you know? I've always thought it was going to be when I was very old and wrinkly and I couldn't go a day without playing cards. I say playing cards because it seems like something old people do, but definitely not like this.
Everything goes silent again and I take a peek at the staircase situation. The little girl is gone now. You gotta be kidding me right now...What the hell is going on? Sometimes I just wish my family was normal, like, my parents couldn't be divorced and my brother become a druggie, or even worse, a jock. But no, of course not.
Instead, I have to bear with a stupid family "gift". Me and every member of my family, just like many others, have the power to control the four elements: fire, water, air an earth. We can use all of them, but we have an affinity with one of them; mine is with earth. We know which element we're closer to because you just feel it when you invoke it. Every time I call the earth my fingertips feel warm and I feel like I'm floating when I'm using it. It's almost like being high. Not that I've actually ever been high, but that's how I picture it being like.
I sprint up the stairs, run to my room and lock the door. If someone actually wants to kill me this wouldn't do much, but it felt like it did.
I sit on the floor. So, should I forget it and go to sleep? I go to the closet and go through years of junk piled up on top of each other and finally find my baseball bat from when I played in middle school. Those times were just weird, but I kept it in case this kind of situation ever happened. Mom thought I was crazy when I told her that. I lean my head against the door so I can hear something.
Nothing.
I open the door and eventually make it to the hallway that connected all of our rooms; my parents’, my brother’s, my sister’s and mine. I look left and right.
Nothing.
Now I hear a noise. A creak. I walk and feel the softness of the thick carpet beneath my bare feet. My hold onto the bat is now tighter.
Closer.
Closer.
Now it’s happening. The bat is now up to my chin. My knees are bend and my body slightly turned to the side.
“Clare?” a sleepy voice says. It’s just Bree, my 8 year old sister. I put the bat down, reliefed “What are you doing?” She asks with here eyes wide open.
“Was it you?”
“Why are you awake?” Bree asks. “We have school tomorrow”
“It’s okay, Beep, I just...you know what? Forget about it. Let’s go back to bed.” We call her that because when she was little she couldn’t pronounce her name properly and always said “Beep” instead. She’s stuck with it now.
I take her to her room, tuck her in bed and kiss her goodnight. “We’re not going to tell this to mom. Okay?” She nods and rests her head in the pillow. I walk out and close the door behind me.
Now I go back to my own room collecting all the events that have happende in less than 30 minutes: first, I have this creepy nightmare with this crazy-looking woman whispering words to me. Then, I wake up, go to the kitchen and see a little girl covered in blood.
This can't be good. I run my fingers through my hair and puti it into a bun on top of my head. Ithink I'm going crazy. That has to be it. There's no other explanation.
I walk to the window towards the flowers planted in a large pot. I hold my hand up and touch a bud with my finger.
The familiar feeling overruns me. The flower grows bigger and the leaves bloom revealing a palette of pinks and reds. I smile. This always makes me smile. So simple, yet so powerful.
I stare at the flower and play with it before going to bed. When I lay everything seems better. Then I close my eyes and darkness sucks me down.
