Forgetting Red

I'm gonna kill.....

"Wolf?" The girl in the red hood was getting very worried. He was never this late. Sure a couple of minutes but this had been at least half an hour. Or it sure did feel like it. The girl pulled down her hood revealing a head of brown thick curly hair. The curls where pulled back in a low half ponytail which still allowed some of the locks to frame her face. "Wolf?" She called again. She heard a crack and tensed.

It wasn't the forest she was scarred of. Not even the creatures in the forest. Most of them were her friends. And the rest knew better than to scare her. No. It was them. She was scared of them. They had never come this far into the forest though. What if they got Wolf? Oh that was a silly thought. No one could ever beat Wolf. Maybe she should have just gone to Grannie's. At least there she was ok and she could always apologize later.

As she started for the cabin her feet stopped her. No. She couldn't do that. Wolf had gotten so mad the last time she went without him. The huge animal had been so scarred. So mad when he found out that she left without a note which had made the wolf run around the woods trying to find her, thinking something had happen to her.

Well maybe if she left him note. She took out a piece of cloth from the basket and also a small piece of charcoal. She was about to begin her note when she heard another crack and dropped the items onto the ground.

"This isn't funny wolf." She called and backed up ready to run. This wasn't good. Her face turned to complete fear as she gripped her basket harder. What was going on? "Wolf?" She said in an even softer voice.

Suddenly an ax came flying at her and she screamed bloody murder though there was no one there to hear her. No one there as the blade came flying at her face and......

Ana

I woke up screaming for the first time in months. My hair was a mess and the sheets where tangled around me in ways I didn't think that they could be. What the hell was that? I had never had a dream that bad before. The realistic feeling of it. The fact that I could almost feel the blade on my face. I ran out of the bed and straight for the mirror which I grabbed in both of my trembling hands. No markings. Still all intact. I backed up until my body landed on the bed, trembling.

It had been almost a month since the party. Boston was preparing for Thanksgiving and our October issue for Folk Tales had gone off without a hitch. And thanks to our little wolf video and Jack's suggestion to write about the party, our page had had the most hits since we first opened. Now we had easy pickings for the stories. Which meant sitting in long meetings seeing which stories where worth the effort and which ones where a waste of time. But that wasn't why I was getting white hairs.

The nightmares where changing. They were not consistent. Every night was something different. There had been a fox and a crow and of course the wolf. That damn wolf. The worst thing though was that they didn't feel like just nightmares. They felt like memories. They were always so clear and so crisp. I could smell the forest. I could feel the breeze. And when she touch the wolf, I could feel the course hair under my fingers when I woke up.

I must have done something in a past life to deserve this. Jack and George where always talking about that. Past lives and karma crap. Though I probably shouldn't think of it as crap anymore. My head turned to the clock on my night table. It was 8 am on a Saturday. One of my precious days off. Though shockingly, I didn't really go out on Saturdays. I stayed home and cleaned. Saturday was cleaning day. The kitchen, my clothes and everything else that I could get my hands on. Sometimes I would go to the cafe if I decided to take a shower and get dressed.

The only thing bad about my day off was there was no work to keep my mind off of the nightmares. Ironically that should have been the best thing about having a day off. There was no work or articles I could drown myself in. Hell Jack had banned me from calling about work on the weekends. And if he even saw that I logged in on the weekend, I got hell for it on Monday morning. I couldn't help it though. The images would run through my mind if I tried to relax. And I really didn't want to dwell on that last dream.