Champions

Ch.1 - Emma

Emma

"Emma?" I could hear the timid voice from my door before I could notice the rays of light shining in through my now open window, or had I accidentally left it open last night? I couldn't remember leaving it open the night before. I almost always closed it. Almost.

"Emma?" Whispered the voice again. I tried my best to ignore it. I wasn't ready to get up. I was too comfy. That's the bad thing about my bed. As beautiful as it's white wrought iron canopy may be, it was a little too comforting and I always found it difficult to get up in the morning.

I felt a cool breeze blow in from outside and shivered. Burying myself deeper into my bed, I let out a sigh of relief. Cozy, warm, and with a light scent of vanilla. I could feel myself began to drift off when the memory of last night's dream bombarded my thoughts.

It was the fifth time I'd had that dream. Everyday this week I'd woken up with a nasty headache and an eerie sensation that something was about to jump out of my closet then drag me away. It was awful. It was always the same no matter what. I'd wake up in my late uncle's cornfield, end up running for my life, hear this mysterious man, and then be caught anyway. Every time I'd wake up to a perfectly normal day, where everything was perfectly the same. I'd told mom about it once. She said it was just a bad dream that probably came from something I read in a book or saw on t.v., and that I shouldn't worry about it. She doesn't know that since then, every night of sleep has been ruined by this nightmare.

It was awful. Not ever had I had a dream that I actually remembered. Every time I'd wake up in the mornings feeling as normal as I had when I went to bed that night. Sure there had been a couple dreams. Ones where I'd wake in the middle of the night because my foot had suddenly jerked violently. Those times I could infer that maybe in the dream I'd just had I had fallen or some guy really ticked me off and needed a good kicking in his personal region. Never though did I certainly remember them. This one, though, was entirely different. What's worse is, since I'd never remembered my dreams before, I'd never known what it felt like to not be able to control what I was doing. That sucked. When I wanted to anything but talk to the shadows, I spouted out words that weren't even mine.

At least I don't have a headache this time.

There was no way I was going to be able to sleep now, but there also wasn't a way I was going to get out of this bed voluntarily.

"Emma?" Came the voice again, a little louder this time and closer. An idea came to my mind and brought a smile to my face. I grumbled as if I were overcome with drowsiness. "Emma," said the voice, raising an octave. I fake snored. "Emma!" came a shrill yell. Next thing I knew the bed around me began to bounce in a steady rhythm. "Emma, Emma, Emma!" I tired to ignore it as much as I could and keep up with the rouse, when a pair of feet jabbed into my side. With a great yelp I fell into a heap on the floor, covers and all.

I heard the bouncing stop, and the person give out a gasp. I laughed internally. I wasn't actually hurt, I barely felt a thing, but whoever it was didn't know that.

Milk it, Emma, I thought to myself. Milk it.

With exaggerated pain, I sat up suddenly, holding my hand into the air as if I were reaching for salvation from my injury. "Oh!" I yelled using my amazing acting skills. Even though I couldn't see the person, I could tell I was freaking them out. "Oh, great sky! Grant me peace for I do not think my body can handle such wounds!" I spread my palms on my wooden floor. "Oh, earth! Give me courage! My body is weak and I shall need it to pass from this life to the next!" I fell backwards with a loud thud. I could practicallyhear my onlooker tremble. "And with huge heartache, I die!" The person let out a scream, and ran for me. I was shaken and even hit, but I refused to open my eyes for them.

It wasn't long before my fun was ruined though.

"Emma," said a stern voice. I sat up quickly with a angelic smile on my face.

My mom was standing at the door, looking motherly as ever.

I love my mom. She's the only parent I got. With her long, dark brown hair and green eyes, we look nothing alike. In fact, most people mistake her for an aunt or a family friend when they see her and me together. She's wonderful in many ways though. She puts up with me for one. I'm not the easiest child to have. I don't obey by rules. I think by instinct and not by thought. I'm a smart-alec. I try my hardest to make others angry. I don't know why I find joy in it, I just do. My grades are. . . terrible, for starters. James, my older brother, he's the wonder child. Everything he does is perfect. He's goingto an Ivy League school when he's done with senior year. He's going to achieve greatness I'll never know. Books, movies, maybe little action figures will be made after him. Me? I'll be lucky if I even have a decent job that doesn't involve the fast food industry. Mom deals with all of this and works two jobs. Without her, my sister, brother, and I would all be shipped off to some foster family. Maybe not even the same one. We don't know where dad is. He disappeared long ago.

You could say I have daddy issues, because I do. I loved my dad, maybe even more than my mom. Daddy's girl. That's what I was. I followed him everywhere. We would laugh together and get mad at each other, but it always worked out. I remember one day when I was about six, he took me fishing because he said he didn't want his daughter to go play with some stupid Barbies when there were more outgoing things to do. I don't see how fishing is that outgoing. All you do is sit on the dock with a pole, hoping that a fish will take the bait, and more then half the time your hook just got stuck on rocks and twigs. I remember times when I was upset, either at him or something else, and he would always go out an get me an ice cream cone. Chocolate chip with extra sprinkles.

When he left a lot of things changed. For example, I hate ice cream.

"Yes, Mother dear?" I asked with an innocent lilt on my tongue. She replied with a disapproving look.

"Emma, you shouldn't play such jokes on her," she scolded me. "Do you not see how pale she is? The last thing we need is another incident like Halloween last year, do we?"

I winced. She's right, that was terrible. Barely anybody in our house got sleep that week. I looked over at the person, my little sister, Adenai.

She did look paler than usual, although she was naturally almost as pale as I was. Not quite there, but close. Her curly blond hair was in tangles, and her green eyes, inherited from mom as you may have guessed, were wide and I could see the hint of tears behind them. Suddenly my joke didn't seem so funny. What dad was to me, I am to Adenai. She's more like my little girl than mom's. She follows me everywhere. She never knew dad. She was just a baby when he went. I kind of made her mine when he did. That way in case he ever came back, he couldn't just gain her without a fight. Though some no how that goes, he didn't come back and he won't.

I got up and walked over to her. Taking her into my arms, I smoothed down her hair and tried to make her feel better in anyway possible. I'm an awful sister. I could hear let out little sobs, and everyone was a dagger to my heart. Adenai took everything seriously, especially for a four year old. She was smart, kind, and everything that a little girl should be. She was sugar and spice personified.

I looked into her eyes with my grey ones, and gave her a small smile. "Addy," I said soothingly. "It's alright, okay? I was just kidding. I'm fine, your fine, everybody's fine."

"You sure?" She whispered with wide doe eyes. She was the cutest thing.

"I'm absolutely sure."

She smiled and gave me another hug before she walked out of my room. Mom still stood by the door with the same disappointed look. With one last shake of her head, she left my room for me to get dressed. A fantastic way to start out on a Saturday.

Even worse? I may have spoken too soon about the headache.