Mary Smith and The Three-Headed Dog

2. Variables

"A Hellgate will open only when a truly malevolent soul bound for death has ties to this world so strong, those tethers rip it back from the Netherworld with such a force that it tears through the veil of this world and the next. Of course, that's just an old wives tale from the Fables of Merlin."

--- Hermione Granger

Chapter 2: Variables

"What's the matter, Mary?" Mama asked at the breakfast table. Papa had gone in early to the garage. He worked as the town mechanic.

I hadn't noticed until she said something, but I was frowning at my smiley breakfast. Two eggs sunny side up with a bacon smiley face. "Huh?"

She sat in her chair looking like the perfect house wife. I can't ever remember seeing her without make-up and there was never a hair out of place. "You haven't even touched your food," she smiled but her tone put me on edge. It sounded like she was fishing for something. "Something wrong?"

I shook my head before the words even reached my lips. "No. There's nothing. Just had a bad dream." And it was true, though it was nothing new.

I know I didn't always have these dreams but I can't remember exactly when they started. But they scared me. I could close my eyes and picture it now if I wanted. I didn't know where I was, just that there were chunks of dirt and rock flying everywhere. It was so wide open with so much grass but the sky was dark and almost seemed to move. Things fell from it and hurt people. And there were so many different colored lights. Then I felt warm, in the pit of my stomach somewhere. Someone was standing there with their back to me. I wanted to reach that person. There was so much noise, but I could only see him. Contrary to the warmth in my chest, something chilling hung in the sky. A green skull with a tongue like a snake sticking out. That thing was in a lot of my dreams...

"Well, put Satan behind you dear. You have school. Better hurry or you'll miss the bus."

"Yes, ma'am." I ate as much as I could before I absolutely had to leave, grabbing my 'What Would Jesus Do?' lunch box and stumbling out the door. I'm not the most graceful person in the world. Not like Jubilee.

"Meow."

I looked down and spotted a cat. But not just any cat. Jubilee's cat. What was Cinnabon doing here? The cat scared me, the way it looked at me with those intelligent eyes. Satan crept into my soul for a second. What would Jubilee say if she knew her cat was here. She's probably so worried over her precious Cinnabon. The cat hissed at me, scratching at my ankles. I did what any normal kid would do to their worst enemy's cat. I reared back my foot and gave it a good hard kick. It flew up and off my porch with the force of my foot. "Rearw!" It squealed. I didn't care. Now there were angry red scratch marks on my leg.

"Serves you right," I huffed. Apparently, cats didn't always land on their feet. I walked to the bus stop, past a troupe of owls lounging on our neighbor's yard fence. They all watched as I passed, probably having seen me kick the cat. But they didn't scatter or attack as any other bird would when a human came too close. They just watched. They creeped me out too. Fortunately for them, I was more afraid of them than I was of the cat.

I ran to get on the bus just as it was about to leave and saw Jubilee and her friends sitting in the back of the bus laughing. I remember when it was the cool thing to sit in the front of the bus. But Page Daniels said that her older sister said that sitting in the front of the bus was for losers. I'd tried to sit back there with them once. They just stared at me like I was crazy. Then Kathy Whitaker smacked her backpack down in the empty seat. "This seat's taken, special-ed," she sneered.