The Serial Killer Named Time

4. Rainy Nights and Candlelight

"If time travel is real, then where are the tourists from the future?"

The ticking of the clock was drawing nearer, it grew louder and louder. The echo bounced off of my bedroom walls as I laid in my bed with my hands shaky and my eyes watery. Another nightmare has flooded my mind and I woke up in a sweat, with my clothes clinging to me and the feeling was dreadful but it was also dread because this dream warned me. Its warning must never be spoken of, for me I could feel it lingering in the air above my hair and in the thick and warm air I breathed in through my nose. The walls began to feel as if they were closing in around me in this darkness, I usually loved the night because of its tranquility and quietness but today I ducked beneath my covers and sweated some more. Even the air conditioner couldn't help me because of my stupidity but I felt the need to hide.

The wind blew violently outside, the old oaken tree that grew besides my window flapped and struck it loudly with its uncontrollable branches. Perhaps I was the tree earlier today, hitting and striking Delores with my unceasing blows. I felt no regret yet I couldn't let it go. I wasn't sure if I was a bad person for thinking so, I always knew since I was a child it was wrong to keep a grudge hidden because the anger could tear a person apart from the inside. Delores treated me terribly today, and Misha's father was right. He was right of saying that I put her in her place and hopefully she will remain there, where she belongs.

The very name Misha came into my mind, the boy with the stern expression on his face and pale freckles on his cheeks and flecks of gold in his vibrant blue eyes. The thought of him sent a cold and vexed emotion throughout my body, the thought of him paralyzed me and haunted my dreams deep within the night. I couldn't sleep, slumber eluded me once again but I wasn't sure it was because of the edgy day or the very thought of Misha. Whenever I wished for my eyelids to stay shut they would openly slowly as if they yearned to see the light. Every moment was shaky and every breath was deep.

The knocking nose continued to go on and on, I gave up the longing for slumber and sat upright in my bed. I focused my attention on the silhouette of the trees whipping against my window, they appeared jagged and soaked. The deep silvery sky that appeared obscure as murky marsh water lit up like the forth up July, a flash of lightning zoomed across the horizon but more fear came upon me as I stared at the window, out of the branches of the trees created the shape of a hand, a hand that was reaching up towards my window. I tucked the blanket up to my chin, I felt dared to shout for my mother but I knew she wouldn't care if she came down the stairs and found me dead. She only would care if Delores was hurt, she made it obvious that she would rather see me suffer rather than Delores. It was apparent as the light that beams from the morning sun

A boom of thunder shook the floor, I continued to clutch onto my blanket and I clenched my eyes shut. The hand grabbed a hold of the latch on my window and yanked it open, cool and fresh air rushed into my room and it smelled like midnight rain. Whoever it was climbed onto my window sill and entered my room and I knew deep and down inside that I couldn't scream. The dark figure approached me, the figure had a tall and slender figure with broad and strong shoulders. The presence felt familiar and I knew I wasn't going to die tonight.

He flicked on my lamp, the sudden light hurt my eyes but once they adjusted it was Misha and I huffed, "So typical." I covered my exposed legs with my blanket, I felt embarrassed because all that I was wearing was a large black t-shirt that had the University's logo across it, "UOR, go bears!" I cringed once I remembered I was still in the same old small town with the dreaded name of Riches. Misha blinked, he appeared soaked. His dark blond hair was matted down from the rain, his clothes were soaked as if he recently got a bucket of water dumped onto him and pellets of water remained on his rosy cheeks. It appeared as if sapphires shimmered in the room as he looked at the street lamps outside of my window. A strange expression was upon Misha's face, his fingers were fidgety and he lightly paced back and forth in my bedroom, I pushed the blankets off of me without a care and whispered to him with slight anger embedded in my weary voice, "Why are you here?" I asked concerned but Misha continued to remain silent.