I was still very confused about the dream I had yesterday. I had dreams like that a lot, but usually something that happened in them happens in real life. I liked to think of them as visions, or hullusionations, but I could never be that fortunate. Also, none of what happened could possibly happen to someone. Even if that someone was me. Though somehow, it was never me. Just some other random person I have to watch suffer because of my "abilities." I let out a sigh and tried to focus on school. I needed to keep my grades up for mom. She was a very smart lady, so she expected very much of me, which isn't that bad. After all, I was the one who wanted to go to Princeton in New Jersey and major in law. I would be the President, or at least a lawyer. I would grow up, and out grow these dreams. I would get myself a wife, or husband, and we would live in a nice house with a child and a cat. I have always wanted a cat, but my Mom is allergic.
"I want a black cat, one with patches!" I would tell her.
"You can get one when you move out and get a job. When you live with your wife in a big house on a hill in the suburbs, where the grass is green, and there are plenty of mice. When you can support a cat, and offer it a good home, then you may get one," that's what she would always tell me back.
Even if I tried to prove her wrong, there was no point. She was always right. Remember that kids; your Mom will never be wrong, so listen to her.
She always had to take care of me since Dad wasn't around. He left when I was six. I never knew why. Mom never told me, it was just like one day he was here perfectly fine, the next day he is gone, and Mom is silent. I cried, but Mom didn't. Mom never cried. I don't know if she does now though...she's always on business trips. I'll move out soon. I'll get a wife, I'll get a life, I'll move to the hill, I'll get a good job, I'll practice law, and I'll get a cat.
I was lost in thought, but my teacher was saying something. I was only half listening though. Then, one statement hit me hard.
"The principal wanted me to tell you what happened last night. You're all mature now, so I know you can take in the facts. There was a disappearance near this area. The cops think it's just another 18 year old who ran away, since we know how kids your age are, but we decided to warn everyone to stay with a parent or friend when out late at night. I think that's all for now, so can anyone inform me about the differences of pi and phi..." the answer to the question came into my head almost as fast as the question that was only asked in my head.
The poster from the kitchen in my dream. Half-taped onto the brown oak cabinet above the stove. Missing. Red ink and all caps. What was the girl's name...I'd tell Mrs. Travis after class. Now the second problem.
My mother was out on another business trip. I could ask Carson, or Lawson if any of them wanted to stay in the guest room of my house for a while, but that would be awkward. Plus, I don't want them to have to deal with my weird dream-vision things. This was going to be difficult...suddenly the bell rang. "You're all dismissed!" Mrs. Travis chirped to the class as everyone grabbed their stuff, and cheered as they walked out the door, usually chatting with their friends, and joking around. I sucked in a breath and walked over to Mrs. Travis. "Miss?" I quietly said, hoping it was quiet enough so that she wouldn't notice. "Ah, Alexander. What is it that you need?" no backing out now. "The student that went missing...was she by any chance a girl named Rebecca Maddison?" she froze. "How did you know that? It's impossible that you had any connections with her so—" I began to walk away. I glanced over my shoulder and spoke in a quiet but firm tone "no one will know what you know. No more questions." before she could speak again, I let the wooden door slam shut, and walked down the hallway to my locker. My hands in my pockets in an attempt to stop them from shaking, and my mind further down into the rabbit hole I was dragged down into each time I dreamt. That's all my dreams were. Me and my common sense are getting pushed further and further down, down, d o w n . . .
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I fumbled with my car keys and turned on the engine of my Mustang as I began to drive to my small house in Baltimore Maryland in the middle of nowhere. I drove into White Oak St. a.k.a the street you never knew of until just now. When I keep my eyes on the road, I never seem to just be looking at the road. My eyes are also scanning the area, the woods on the side of the asphalt and tar. The white spotted female deer nibbling on the luscious green grass. The blue jays, and robins, building nest and chirping at the clear blue sky. The beautiful flowers growing on the sides of hills, and patches of grass, like chrysanthemums, lilacs, and white roses...there aren't normally roses. This one was growing near a pole. The pole had a sign taped on it. I barely had to glance at it to know what it said. In red ink and all caps; "REBECCA MADDISON: MISSING" the pole was near a number spray painted on the ground like all the addresses. It was my address.
I arrived at my house, picked up the phone, and knew exactly who I wanted to stay with me. Someone who already knows about my visions. Someone popular enough that they probably knew Rebecca. I called the most popular guy in school. I called my best friend, and long time suspected crush. I called Keith Richards.