World of Make-Believe: Chelsea's Story

A New Development

She was falling into the blackness, the void beneath her beckoned so sweetly, she felt nothing but peace as it wrapped its warmth around her body. Then a humming began, gently at first. Rapidly it gained momentum until it was jostling her bones, making it hard to breathe. Chelsea frowned, eyes widened, lungs heaving to get a decent taste of air.

It was still so dark.

She couldn't see her hand in front of her face. She reached out to try and find her way to no avail. Her hands met with nothing more than velvety blackness; it moved and shifted beneath her touch. Her heart lept to her throat. She couldn't get out, it was too warm- she was suffocating in the darkness.

She tried to scream but no sound came out. She closed her eyes again. Her breathing quickened against the claustrophobic conditions; faster, faster, gasping. Warm, wet.

Tight, twisting.

Chelsea's head beginning to float, her body buzzing, not truly attached to her physical form now. With a gasp she tried to open her eyes - unsure if she'd ever closed them. Twisting her neck she met the deep, fiery red gaze of Robin. A wave of relief washed over her as she reached for him. Red was familiar, at least. And then she saw the misshapen claws grasp her left shoulder, shake her. Those ember red, glowing eyes only intensified with the pain the claws inflicted.

"Wake." He commanded, claws digging in tighter.

The pain burning, searing, white, blinding-

"Robin!" she shouted, jumping awake like a woman who had been shot.

Chelsea couldn't orient herself. A quilt was tangled around her legs, the wood stove snapped as a log collapsed. Sweat made her simultaneously hot and cold.

"Are you okay?"

Chelsea's gaze swiveled to find her brothers concerned brown eyes watching. His hand was lightly, gently placed upon her right shoulder, respectful but concerned. All the events of the last few days flooded into her, reminding her of why she was home.

Hand pressed to her collar she nodded, "Yeah." She swallowed hard. "Yeah, crazy dream."

"Are you ok?" He asked, quickly removing his hand, "I'm sorry it's just you looked so... and you weren't breathing right? And you were screaming?"

She nodded, brushing her shoulder self consciously, "Yes, thank you." She sighed, sitting up in her bed. "I've been having these-these dreams." She laughed. "Nightmares lately. It's like this monster is coming after me." She frowned, running a hand over her face, so tired, "he wants something from me and I can't give it to him."

"Recurring, huh?" He grinned small, safely.

Chelsea noted he retreated to a distance. "Gunna pick it apart Mr. Matt the psyche major?" She teased.

Matt just sighed, "Mom and Dad have been worried about you." His eyes met hers again, searching her face, "They say you're burning out in the city. Say it's not in our blood to be surrounded by all that concrete and iron."

"Iron." Chelsea snorted, "Nothing's made with iron anymore. It's all steel or aluminum or titanium these days." She moved to pop her neck, wincing. Her shoulder ached after that dream, "You guys are so behind the times out here. The city isn't that bad."

"Yeah, well breakfast is ready when you are!" His chipper smile and broad figure were almost comforting, even as he walked away.

She grimaced and ground her teeth as the door shut, waiting for the footsteps beyond to fade. "Good a time as any."