Don't Let Go.

chapter three.

Three.

I didn't know where I was, but for some reason, it didn't bother me. I was walking, needing to find something and knowing that I needed it desperately. Whatever it was, I needed it like I needed to breathe. And every second that I didn't find it, I got more panicked. My heart raced in my chest. I shivered, an eerie feeling settling over me as all the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"Caydence."

I whipped around, reacting at once to that voice.

And I saw her.

I stopped, my breathing cutting off with a slight whoosh. "Cassie?" I whispered, my voice shaking. She was dead. Dead. And I knew it even here.

Some part of my mind registered that she was wearing all white. It was kind of like a gown, and there were people behind her, all wearing the same, but I wasn't paying attention to them.

She was the same. Her dark eyes met mine with urgency, and her chocolate brown hair blew gently around her face. She even had the scar.

"Caydence, don't," she said. "Please, don't."

I ran, bolting before she could say anything else.

"Caydence!" She screamed.

I couldn't. I couldn't look at her. I couldn't hear that voice, and just not respond. I ran.

Someone grabbed my shoulder, stopping me. No, I thought to myself, tears starting to build up in my eyes. I looked over, noticing the hand was broad and tanned, with scraped, bloody knuckles. The hand didn't belong to my sister.

I turned slowly, scared.

But it wasn't her. In her place, stood a boy.

***

I woke up, sobs already bursting out of me. My hair was plastered to my forehead, and I was drenched. I gasped, my breathing erratic and unstable. I just...

She was my sister, and I ran.

I pushed out of my too hot blankets and felt the smooth, reassuring wood of my floor underneath my feet. It was stable, but I wasn't. I wobbled when I stood, but I couldn't focus on that. All I had at the moment was this: pushing myself forward, and trying so hard not to care that I fell every few steps. I just got back up.

My house was still quiet.  Every sound that should have been here felt like something solid, weighing down on me in a way that I couldn't stand. It was that silence that made it so impossible for me to breathe.

I was suffocating, still swallowing back sobs.

I had to get out.

Not even ten minutes later, I stood at Rose's doorstep, praying she would be home. I was shaking. "Please," I whispered.

I tapped lightly on her window a few more times, eventually giving up and hugging myself against the cold.

The front door opened as I turned to leave. "Crap, Caydence," Rose whispered groggily, still not completely awake. She rubbed her eyes, yawning. I could tell she had been dead asleep, but she blinked and looked alarmed when she finally saw me.

I shook once, violently.

"Come in," she said, opening her door a little wider. "You must be freezing." Rose led me through her dark living room, the shadows obscuring the over stuffed couches I had played on as a child, when the thought of my sister dying was the farthest from my mind. She led me past the doors to her parent's room, and past her little brother's. She pulled me into her warm kitchen, flicked on the light above the sink before finally turning to look at me.

"Caydence, your hair!" Rose cried. 

Startled, I reached for it, becoming disoriented again when I found it only came to my shoulders. I stared at her for a long second, and then tugged on the ends, trying to stop the tears that were filling up my eyes. 

She studied me for a quiet second, and then asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"  

I just shook my head, because I didn't trust my voice. I was still bleeding, and the minutes that passed felt like hours, but I didn't know what to say, or  how to explain.

Rose assessed me again, quickly, nodded to herself, and turned off the light again. I listened for a while to the hum of the refridgerator, trying not to think.

"Come on,"  Rose said. Her voice already sounded far away. I hurried down the hall to catch up to her, quickly swiping under my eyes.

"Get the light?" she whispered once I reached her room, already digging the extra blankets and pillows out of her closet. I stumbled over to the lamp on her bedside table, and struggled to find the switch.

I didn't hear Rose approach, just felt her gently push my hands away and yank the cord down, effortlessly. "Sorry," I whispered, but she didn't hear me.

She didn't say anything because she knew, that if I could, I would tell her. So she unrolled the blankets she was carrying and set up a place for me to sleep. When she was done, I went and sat down obediently on it.

"Night, Caydee," she said from her bed. She turned off the light.

I sat in silence for about a half hour, trying desperately to sleep, but terrified at the same time. I played the dream over and over in my head, trying to make sense of it, but all I felt was guilty. It was only a dream, right? 

But I could feel him. The heat from the boy's hand. And I had never dreamed of my sister before now, no matter how much I wanted to. Why had I freaked out? Why did I run? 

I should have known Rose wasn't sleeping, but it still startled me when she spoke. "Your sister?" she asked, voice gentle. 

A horrible, choked noise was all I could manage. But it was enough of an answer for her to understand.

"I was dreaming," I finally whispered, voice thick with tears. I didn't sound like myself, but lately, I never did. "She was trying to tell me something, but I didn't listen. Oh God, Rose, I ran from her-and she, she just-she. She was gone and I-. Rose, I ran from my sister."

She listened. Just listened until I finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.