"Stop!" I shouted.
His glowing bright purple eyes looked at me, questioning me.
But it was too late. He had crossed the border again. They started to appear, coming from the shadows, like they did every night.
"Use it!" the boy would scream.
"I don't know how!" I shrieked back.
"Yes you do!" he said.
I looked at the silver compass in my hands. The needle spun around and around. This dream had been reoccurring for over 6 months, but I still had no clue what the compass did.
As I looked up at him once more, the shadows engulfed me.
I woke up coated in a cold sweat. I don't know what that dream meant or why I kept having it, but I think it had something to do with my father's disappearance.
About 6 months ago, right before the dreams started, my father mysteriously vanished. He left for work that morning but never came home. The cops searched for clues, even a body, but they never found anything. My mother and brother presumed he was dead, but I always thought he was out there somewhere, waiting to be found.
I stood up and shakily walked towards my bathroom. I splashed cold water over my face and looked at myself in the mirror.
I didn't think I was pretty. Just average. I had auburn hair that I always wore up. It was frizzy and fluffy, and I was too lazy to try and fix it. I had a splash of freckles across my nose and ears that stuck out like a monkeys. I wanted ear surgery but my mom said that it wasn't a real thing. Sure it was. They have surgery to fix everything. My favorite feature were my eyes. They were a bright green. I used to think that they glowed in the dark. But sometimes if I'm playing on my phone or see my reflection in my window, I'm convinced that they're glowing.
"Clemintine Rhapsody Suzanne Fitzgerald! Get your lazy booty down the stairs, NOW!" screamed my 7 year old brother, Jonathan. Why my mom named me after a citrus fruit, I will never know.
"I'm coming you bloated orangutan pimple!" I yelled back.
I threw on a Beatles T-Shirt and a pair of ratty jeans.
"Hey, mom," I said as I slid onto a stool.
"Hey, hon. I'm gonna be workin' late t'night, an Jonna's gonna be goin' home with Kyle. That 'kay with ya, sweetheart?"
"Sure, mom," I replied. My mom was convinced she was meant to talk like a country bumpkin even though she was from Denver.
"D'ya wanna invite Jacey ov'r t'night hon?" She asked.
"Nah. I think I'll just chill."
"'Kay hon." She slid a plate of eggs towards me. "Eat up!"
"Bus! Bus!" Yelled Jonathan as he sprinted down the hallway.
"Coming!" I mumbled through a mouthful of eggs."
I grabbed my bag and lunch, yanking on my shoes as I hopped to the door.
"Don't forget these!" yelled my mother as she waved my glasses case high in the air. She tossed them to me and I caught them like a football player.
"Thanks mom. Love you."
I didn't know that that was the last time I would say that to her in what seemed like a lifetime.
I slammed the door and ran to the corner. That's when my inner klutz took over.
I grunted as I tripped on my shoelace, the contents of my book bag spilling all over Ms. Julian's lawn. Yep. Pretty sure that squish was my World History book landing in Doodles the Pomeranian's business. I scrambled to get all my stuff together but it was too late. Jonathan stuck his head out the window as the bus pulled away.
