The Memory

Totally Not Weird At All....

Copyright (c) 2012 Danielle Moynihan

The dead girl's eyes snapped open.

Suddenly, I heard someone scream, and my eyes shot open. I was the screamer, but a moment later was silent.

Ugh, school, I thought, and moaned. I got up and threw on the first outfit I saw. Walking past my mirror, I skidded to a halt. My heart nearly stopped as I looked in the mirror. I was wearing a light blue ruffle tank, a grey hoodie, dark jeans, and cheery yellow converse. My thick gingery-gold hair was loose around my face, and my hazel eyes were sparkling gold.

Identical to the girls- the shadow girl, and the dead girl in my dream.

Totally not creepy... I thought with a shudder as I walked down the stairs and made myself coffee. I grabbed my school bag and was about to walk out the door when I saw the time.

6:30 AM

"UGH!" I hissed. What was wrong with me? I shouldn't even be awake this early. School didn't even open for another half hour, much less require students to be there.

"Screw you, school," I muttered, and collapsed on the couch, then cursed under my breath.

Grabbing the TV remote, I sprawled out on the couch. The news popped up on the screen, and, out of sheer laziness, I didn't bother to change it.

The news reporter was standing in front of a willow tree. An oddly familiar tree.... the soft wind swayed the slender branches, and soft purple petals fluttered to the ground.

The willow tree from my dream.

"....odd occurring, last night, at around 3 in the morning.....similar to the incident in 1956, when...."

I watched intently as old black-and-white video footage showed a night sky, full of glittering stars, then panning down to show crackling ring of fire surround the tree, undaunted by the heavy rain falling. All of a sudden, the fire disappeared, revealing six teenagers who immediately ran.

The exact same thing popped open on the screen, but, this time, in color. When it was over, the news reporter changed the subject, but I sat there, confused. There was something strange going on- why else would I dream about something that would appear on the news the next day? I got up, grabbed my bag, and walked out of the house. I was going to see that gravestone myself.

Making my way over to the cemetery, I stopped by the stone with my parents' names etched into it, which was next to the stone with my brother's name engraved into it. A silent tear slid down my face, and I wiped it away furiously. No more tears.

I wandered aimlessly around the stones, my heart aching for all these people, entombed under the ground forever. After about an hour of searching, I gave up and hopped the stone wall. My feet crunched fallen leaves as I landed in a field, instead of the hard sidewalk I was expecting. Looking around the field that I had never been in before, I saw perfectly trimmed, slightly wet, green grass, a grove of tall trees, crunchy amber leaves littering the ground, and a soft warm breeze warmed me to my core, as if it's summer, instead of November. I walked cautiously, unsure of myself, through the grasses, until my eyes fell on a willow tree with soft purple flowers that swayed in the non-existent wind.

Running for it, I skidded to a halt by the silver tombstone. Kneeling down, there were four objects placed around the stone. A charm bracelet, from which hung a single charm- a bird, with flame-shaped feathers and wings made of tin; a circle with a small star in the middle, a dirty bird feather, and a dull necklace.

I picked up the feather, which was a soft a pillow. As I stared at it, the dirty grey color literally washed off of the feather, leaving it the purest white, a dove's feather. I gasped, and it fell to the ground. The moment it hit the ground again, the grey color returned, an ugly pigeon's feather.