FORGOTTEN SOULS || Isaac Lahey [1]

two.

As Dani woke up from yet another strange dream to her 7am alarm, a dream where she was holding another version of the boy who looked like Isaac Lahey as he died from what her best guess was the Spanish flu, she registered the fact that there was a small puddle of blood soaking into her pillow. She frowned and brought her fingers up to her nose, pulling them away and finding the tips coated in red.

Of course, she thought, immediately stumbling past a very confused towel-bearing Hayes and shutting the bathroom door behind her. I just had to dream about the Spanish flu. Because that totally makes sense.

Just as she tossed out a third tissue that showed the steady stream of blood was slowly dissipating, a strange feeling rolled around in her stomach. Then she was doubled over in front of the toilet, throwing up. Great. She shakily wiped her hand along the bottom of her chin. Perfect start to a Monday morning.

She shakily stood up in front of the bathroom mirror and hesitantly looked at her reflection, cringing at what she saw. Limp brown hair hanging in dull waves with the occasional know down to her breasts. She was pale and gaunt, skin tugging back at her cheekbones like she hadn't eaten in days, which was only partially true. She'd skipped dinner the previous night to stay with Lydia, and I'm the aftermath of what had happened, she'd forgotten to eat once she was home. Dark bruise-like spots had appeared on her cheeks and circles under her eyes, trails of dried blood around her mouth and nose from where it had crusted as she slept.

She could still see the four pink lines on her throat, which she found mildly concerning, but those were old news by now.

All she could focus on, was the fact that she looked as if she was dying.

Frantically she took a shower, scrubbing her face and conditioning her hair until she looked like a somewhat healthy person. She knew she could blame the dark circles at her eyes on lack of sleep from worrying about Lydia, and any blood left behind on a normal nose bleed — which it essentially was — but the rest would be difficult to explain.

Specifically, the scratches.

"Everything okay in there?" Hayes called awkwardly. "Are you...um...are you throwing up again? Do you need me to call dad?"

"I'm fine," she called back weakly. "Just stressed about Lydia, that's all. You don't need to call dad, I'm all good."

"Okay." It was obvious he didn't believe her, but she just rinsed the bad taste out of her mouth and pretended she couldn't tell. "Well, just make sure you eat something while I'm in the shower, alright?"

Dani opened the door and nodded weakly at him, then wandered down the hall so he could do his own morning routine.

After all of the strange things that happened in their first semester of tenth grade, like being locked in the school with a psychotic...thing, and hearing about the series of murders that finally ended with Allison's aunt, the weird and uncomfortable dreams had become more and more frequent.

The one at the hospital was just the most vivid.

She absentmindedly made herself a smoothie and a cup of peppermint tea to start off her morning, and picked out her outfit for the day as she waited for the kettle to boil. Their Dad had left for an early shift at the Prep School out in Devonford, where he taught chemistry, and had left them money for the bus on the kitchen table. When she'd finished eating and was dressed, she wandered in the direction of the bathroom just as Hayes was leaving.

"I had a smoothie," she told him before he could ask, rolling her eyes when he raised his brows. "The blender and cup are in the sink, you can look for yourself."