They say every cloud has a silver lining. Cliché, I know. But, with twenty-year-old psychology student - Meliora Simmons, the clouds only appear to turn a darker shade of gray with no evidence of a bright side. Nightmares haunt her since her childho...
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I woke up with a jolt when my alarm went off. Was that a dream? That definitely had to be a dream; there was no way any of that was real.
I looked around and noticed that I was in my room. This time though, I was still wearing the clothes I wore last night. This did indicate that I had gone to Forestport. But I didn't remember coming back.
I was so perplexed by what had and had not happened yesterday that I couldn't even tell the difference between my dreams and hallucinations. I felt like I was slowly losing my mind. I didn't know what was real and what was not.
Had I spoken to a wolf? Had he spoken back to me? Had I seen my first werewolf? Did they really exist? Had the wolf fought the werewolf? Had he won? Was any of that real? Was it a dream? Was it all but a single hallucination? I had no answers to any of these questions and I was on the verge of crying. How did my life turn so upside down? What had I ever done to deserve this?
I heard a knock on my door and realized I couldn't let Ethan look at me like this. He'd get suspicious. That is if he already wasn't.
"Getting ready, Ethan. I'll see you downstairs," I yelled. Strangely, my door was locked. I never locked my door since Ethan always knocked before entering.
"Alright. Breakfast will be ready in a few," he yelled back and then I heard his footsteps retreating.
I didn't have much time to sit there and mope about my terrible life, I had a college to attend. I quickly jumped off my bed and rushed towards the bathroom. I couldn't help but notice I had no trouble walking or stretching my body. This only indicated that I hadn't been hurt last night and that everything that happened was not real. I sighed in relief.
The sigh of relief soon disappeared when I saw myself in the bathroom mirror. Horror was just an understated word for how I felt and looked. The bandage that was wrapped around my head had blood mixed with dirt on it, my favorite T-shirt had blood on one shoulder and a rip on the other.
I carefully pulled the bandage out and inspected my head for any injury. There was a crusty layer of blood in my hair but no sign of an injury. How was this even possible? How could I have blood stains when I had no sign of injury? Was this even my blood? I had no clue.
I threw my clothes in the laundry bin and got into the shower for a quick one. Maybe Ethan had answers to some of my questions. He was calm when he knocked on the door which meant he wasn't home when I got back.
I didn't know if that was a good or a bad sign. On one hand, it was good since I had been saved from an hour-long lecture, while on the other, he was the only one who could solve some parts of the mystery my life had become.
