Chapter Two
The tall tree's branches whipped in the wind as Tamsin ran. She was hot and sweaty from running, adrenaline pumping through her veins, magnifying the summer's heat. There was blood in her mouth, the taste of it almost choking her. She tried to swallow, again and again, but the layer of viscous blood remained on her tongue. The unknown she was running from hadn't appeared, and she was in the dark about what was chasing her, she only knew she had to get away before it came for her too. The uselessness she felt made her body lag and slow, and she felt guilty that she couldn't help her mother escape from these monsters, as she heard Shelly cry out for her.
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She jolted awake suddenly, sitting up in her blankets which had been twisted around her body during the night, her mothers cries still echoing in her mind. The morning light entered the room through the cracks in the white blinds covering the window. Birds chirped cheerfully, perched on the trees outside. Unconsciously, Tamsin was aware that her nightmare had been brought on by what her mother told her. She felt in her stomach that she wouldn't be able to get away fast enough, or keep everyone she loved safe. She longed to have the comfort of her father's arms around her, to help her and tell her what she'd need to do, but she knew she could not have that.
The bed beside her was empty, the blankets made neatly to show that Tera had already gotten up. Tamsin chuckled, Tera was always making sure everything was in perfect order, right down to the dishes in the cupboard and how her clothes were folded.
Tamsin groggily wiped her eyes, unwrapped herself from the blankets and stood up on the wooden floor. Her arms were still shaking from the dream that had left her as numb as a procaine injection. She stumbled to the doorway, which had been left open a small space by Tera. As Tamsin approached, she could hear dishes clanging and cupboards banging in the kitchen, and also her mother's voice.
"Just bring whatever you think is fit, Frank," a pause, then, "Yes, scalloped potatoes sound great. Okay, see you then," Oh great, Frank Bartley over for supper. Again. Tamsin remembered the last night Mr. Bartley had stayed for supper, achieving the most drunk anyone could possibly be until collapsing on the family's Navajo woven mat in front of the couches. At least he's not bringing any wine this time. Tamsin also noted on how much better her mother's voice sounded that morning, thinking she must have gotten a good nights sleep despite the heavy events in the future.
Tamsin shut the heavy door and turned back into her and Tera's room. Out of her small dresser she chose a pair of clean, jean shorts that came above her fingers at arms length, a billowy yellow tank top and a pair of white ankle high socks. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she shoved her feet into the socks, and just sat still, thinking.
She thought about how vague everything was, about how she knew absolutely nothing about her father's past before last night, which, she came to realize, made sense after all. Nobody before, neither her mother nor her father, had said much about what he did, or where he'd go for those long months at a time. What did she need to prepare for? What exactly was it that she'd need to do? She didn't know. Not knowing, not understanding and not being prepared were three of the worst things that scared her.
She knew the day was going to be humid and hot, like all the ones before it, so she pulled her long hair into a tight ponytail, stood up and went out the door. From the middle of the hallway she could see Tera at the table, eating out of a porcelain bowl, and her mother standing at the counter, her back to Tamsin and hands cupping her face. Her left ring finger still sported a silver wedding band, engraved with "Insquequo Terminus of Diligo," meaning "Until The End Of Love."
