Wyatt and Wendy

Chapter 2

 Wendy

        There was something off about the ambience of my dream. It was usually blue with a bit of red, a clear depiction of my sadness and rage. Sometimes the colours usually got so prominent that they were not just in my dreams, they were my reality. Some nights if the blue over shadowed the red I would wake up crying but if the red over shadowed the blue I would wake up rage filled, thrashing everything in my path. 

        Tonight though, it was different, it was orange with yellow streaks. I had no idea what it meant but as I got deeper and deeper into sleep, the word pleasure floated about in my mind. The colour orange deepened until finally my eyes flung open and my fangs jutted out. Saliva dripped from them onto my bed sheets. I looked around myself wildly; everything I laid eyes on was outrageously vivid. The thought of what might be happening sent a chill down my spine, frightened, I teleported myself into Wyatt's room for help like I always to did. That's when all my questions were answered.

         Blood was everywhere. The sight and smell of it weakened me dropping me to my knees. A scream rang through the air and Timmy's face flashed before my eyes.

I was not going to let this happen again.

Conjuring up all the strength I had I stood up and tackled my brother to the floor. He pushed me off him and snarled his eyes glowing red. Blood dripped off his fangs, as he glared at me ready to attack. "Wyatt DON'T," I screamed at him. He didn't listen and took a lunge at me; I lunged back pushing him into a wall.

        His eyes went back to their natural cerulean blue, his fangs contracted back into his gums. The body on the floor groaned and turned itself onto its back. A gasp escaped my throat it was Jake. He coughed and blood leaped from his throat onto his shirt.  

        I eyed his shirt then his neck. My fangs doubled as hunger gnawed inside of me. I looked down to the floor then looked back up, my eyes turned to fire burning for a feed. I dashed out of Wyatt's room at full speed into the hallway.

        Disgust spread throughout me. How could I be acting like this? I placed my head in my hands, sitting back to wall. My bottom lip trembled and tears rolled down the side of my face.

        Wyatt's door slowly creaked open "Wendy?" he whispered. I sniffled and dried my eyes, "I'm sorry," he said. Shock and anger filled me, "Sorry? You're sorry?" I leaped up and faced him. "What the hell were you thinking? You almost made a choice Wyatt, once again you would have messed up and I would have had to fix it". His face tightened "Timothy Grawvewell"; I grabbed his shirt and pushed him into the wall "don't you ever say that name again" I warned then teleported back to my room.

Sleep eluded me as the events of the night churned in my head. I lay in bed motionlessly playing it over and over again in my mind, constantly repeating to myself, “he had been so close, he was going to make a choice." Screams of my pleas that had gone unheard from that day rang through my head in echoes. If Wyatt had gotten there earlier none of this would have happened, if I hadn't gotten to Wyatt's room earlier history would have repeated itself.

"He had been so close; he was going to make a choice."

"He had been so close; he was going to make a choice."

"He had been so close; he was going to make a choice." This thought ran through my mind like a broken record, until finally sleep over took me.

When I woke up the bed beside me was empty and neatly made. I sat up craning my neck to get a better visual of the wall clock mounted on top of the door. Nine-thirty, I cursed and ran to the bathroom, I was late for my first day of school.