Somnambulism (Jared Cameron)

//forward//

I first learned about my special Black family 'gift' when I was seven years old.

My parents, Billy and Rachel, had been hosting a bon fire in our backyard. Something that wasn't unusual for my father, who was the chief of our tribe. It seemed we were always hosting some sort of get together on the weekends, especially when it was warm outside. Well, warm by La Push's standards.

My little brother, Jacob, was five years old.

We had been playing duck, duck, goose. Jacob, Leah, Quil, Embry; all of our usual pre-school friends. Leah cousin, Emily, who was already double-digits at ten years old, had taken it upon herself to make sure none of the boys cheated. Namely, Quil, who was known for sliding in the dirt to avoid getting tagged.

It was after everyone had eaten their body weight in hot dogs, it was after all the marshmallows had been sufficiently burnt. It was after my father told spooky stories with his warm voice, and after the sun ducked under the water. Jacob had been stung by a bee, and began crying. So that was when my parents decided it was time for the little ones to go to bed, tucking my brother and I into our beds yards away in our quaint, log house.

The party went on for the rest of the night. The adults bringing out beer eventually, and the pleasant chatter changing to hushed gossip. The fire dwindled down to embers, and the mosquitoes had canopied over the backyard. Same old, same old. La Push wasn't known for variation.

Legend then goes, my mom; Rachel, stepped into the house to check in on the sleeping children. Everyone's blood ran cold at her long, frantic scream. My fathers friends; Big Quil, Harry Joshua; sprung into high gear. Their instincts to protect kicking in. Tiffany and Sue, my mother's best friends, ran inside the house in alarm.

"Billy!" Rachel flees from the house, sprinting to the porch where the rest of the adults stood, "It's Grace, she's gone," my mother had tears running down her face.

The adults took off in different directions, my mom sobbing and my father barking orders for everyone to divide and conquer the woods surrounding the Black's cottage.

"We'll find her," Billy throws a large arm around her small frame, trying to stay calm in his anxiety of his only daughter. I was his oldest kid, but so tiny. Jacob already almost reaching her small stature. With my toothless grin, freckled nose and knobby knees; I had always beenmy parent's sunshine.

"You don't think, Bill-" Quil begins quietly, scanning the yard.

"Don't even say it." Billy growls out, scaring Quil.

"Rach! I found her!" Harry calls out from the side of the cottage, next to where the garage door opened.

"Oh my Baby!" Rachel takes off running towards where the other adults were congregating. "Is she hurt? Gracie?"

The legend then goes to say that my mothers relief turned to confusion, when I didn't return her hug, or answer my father's calls. Apparently, I kept slowly stumbling; with a dazed look in my eyes. My dad likes to add in here that I had a dribble of drool down my chin- which I will deny to my dying day.

My parent's took me to the local clinic where Sue worked as a nurse, only to find that I was perfectly fine. But, I had a condition. Something that everyone believed I would grow out of as I aged, but I wasn't so lucky. I had inherited Great Grandma Black's gift:

Somnambulism.