Witch Who?

Ch. 3: It Burns in Flames

Ch. 3: It Burns in Flames

Here's the thing about dances. I usually hate them. Look I'm not a kill joy but I just don't understand the importance of them, sure lets go crazy and forget about people's space and dance till we pass out! That seems fun!! Look their not bad. I enjoy them. Kinda brings out my wild side. But I relent them too. The idea of them is just absurd. And after this little talk with Abram I'm flustered. All night I have trouble sleeping. My mind strategizing and my heart beating really fast. I gaze up at the ceiling and try to put my spinning mind at ease.

I don't know what to feel about this. It's probably nothing. I think I'm over dramatizing the fact that my best friend asked me to the dance. I...I feel flattered. But...It also feels wrong. A wrongness that's bothering me the most. It's just odd to think about it. But I guess that's what life's like for a teenager. Everything you thought you know is flipped upside down leaving you falling with the forces with gravity. And at the end of all that your still dizzy and disoriented with the after affect of falling. Just like life is. After a big change like that your still feeling the after affect of it all. Just like with my mom dying. Just like now with Abs.

As I think these thoughts I lull into a soundless sleep and dream of my mom...still with me in my dreams. In my mind.

I'm running. I know I'm dreaming but it still feels so real. I am running in what looks like a forest and I hear shrieks and cries of frustration behind me. I stop and turn around. I'm instantly knocked off my feet and see my attackers loom over me. They have pitch forks and torches. Their bodies all towering over me. The glow of the fire showing each of their horrid faces. All of anger. All their eyes are hollow. Lifeless, not even their at all. Their dressed as old pioneer men. I'm grabbed by the shoulders and rattled. I yelp. A cool, calm voice of a young man whispers in my ear. "Now I've got you, this is where you belong." I scream.

I wake up screaming in my bed. I gasp and clasp my throat. My body is covered in sweat and I start to shake. My door rattles open and my flustered grandmother comes bursting in.

" Are you okay darling?! I heard you scream."

" I'm fine Gran go back to sleep, I...I just had a nightmare." I breath heavily.

" I'll go get you some nice hot tea, that'll calm you down."

Gran scurries away and closes the door behind her. I shakily get out of bed and walk over to the bathroom to wash my face. Every time I have a bad dream it always is worse than the last one. Whatever is happening to me I need...I need to some how control it. If it's a sign or something I need to figure out what it is.

I wake up to the sound of my alarm buzzing loudly. Morning I thought it would never come. Today I'm meeting up with Abram today for lunch, you know like we always do. Then why do I feel so weird about going this time, like what was so different than the rest. We meet at our regular pizza place, a small joint in Louisiana that almost half the kids in our school go to. It's a little bit of a hole in the wall but, hey the place has great pizza that's all I care about.

We meet in our usual spot, on the bar inside the place. The smells all rich and giving it the smell of baking bread and of burnt cheese. I look around to see everyone sitting down talking loudly. All the noises mix into one loud blur.

Looks like Abram beats me here. He sits down criss-cross apple sauce reading a comic book. Avenger's, my favorite. When he sees me I smile. I take his chair and spin him around before sitting next to him on the high chair. It's always hard to get my body on these things. I literally have to have ninja moves to get up on the seat. Abram sees me struggling and helps lift me up. I'm embarrassed. I don't really like getting help. Especially when trying to get on a chair. We are silent for a moment then I pipe up saying, " so what's the plan Iron Man?!" (That's his favorite Avenger, he believes he relates to him the most....yeah I know...hard to picture.)