Yes Father

Chapter 1

My heart beats faster and faster as I sprint down the dark alley with a team of shadows right on my tail. When my head jerks to look behind me, my long, brown hair catches in my face. My breath is as cold as ice and fogs up when I exhale. The spider webs with drops of dew add to the haunting experience. Then, there was the damp, cobblestone floor beneath my feet, crumbling. The scent of smoke from a fire burning in the distance seems to fill the air. "Help," I gasp to a shadowy character a few yards in front of me. But it doesn't notice. I scream the word again, desperate for someone to see me, hear me, anything. The person walks away, with no intentions of coming to my aid. 

My brown eyes desperately look high and low on the worn brick buildings, searching for a way out. A place to go. An escape. Breathing becomes difficult as the smoky air and the shadows begin to overtake me. I stop running. I am too out of breath to continue. For I have given in to these beasts that evidently won't stop chasing me until I am captured. I know why they've come. They've come to take me away from this place and position me in another. They've come to make my worst of nightmares of never being accepted, come true. I throw myself onto the cold, clammy, cobblestone street in despair, and without hope. I curl up into the feeble position and my mud-covered hands shield my eyes as I sit there and cry. The only thing visible is my stringy hair as it falls down onto my knees, protecting my pitiful face.

I slightly and delicately space my index and middle finger apart to allow my eyes to glance out, only to see the face of one shadow with its black eyes glistening in the moonlight. It has long, black, thin hair that is in patches on the shadows head. This is it. My nightmares are coming true. Only seconds away is my fate, and an inch away is the creature that is going to take me to it. It's icy, bony hand moves my hair away from my right ear and I listen to this monster's dry, cracked lips whisper the words, "I'll always win."  

I scream in horror only to wake up, shaking, panting, and sweating in my bed. The third time this month that same nightmare has hacked into my brain. I calm myself down and trace the curvy flower patterns on my bedspread with my short, jagged fingernails. Some of the stitching in it is beginning to loosen. I look at my clock on my nightstand to my right only to find that it's already 10:13 a.m. I sigh as I glance at my one and only, window to my right. The light shining through it and cascading down my sky blue curtains is almost blinding. I guard my eyes with my hand and squint to keep the light off my eyes. My room was always my favorite in the house because every morning I could peer out my large window and see the one thing that reminds me I could have a real home someday. The apple tree that Marcus and I planted together, still thriving.

What a typical summer day. The birds are chirping, the leaves are green, I can feel the sun's warmth on my skin, and the flowers are all fully bloomed with all the colors of the rainbow, and more. I look around my room. I look at my closet to the left, with one of the doors slightly cracked open and my favorite purple purse hanging on one of the doorknobs. My dresser is standing tall on the opposite side of my bed as the nightstand. My night stand delicately holds my china doll with a red dress lined with white lace. She is holding a white purse made of fur as well. Her expression was almost blank, but with a slight smile. When I was about six years old my mother gave it to me. And I've sworn to make it the one thing that I always hold on to, it being the only thing left of her in my memory. One of my green guitar picks is also on the nightstand along with a bowl and spoon that once held my half-eaten vanilla ice cream, but now a creamy white liquid. 

Taking one last look around my room I stand up, stretch, and slip on my neon green, fuzzy slippers and snatch my white and pink polka-dotted bathrobe from the coat rack in the corner of the room. My tired feet drag across the white carpet as I open my door only to meet Laura, my little sister, right on the other side. I wipe the remaining sleep from my eyes as she greets me with a friendly, "Good morning sleepy head." She smiles with her pearly-white teeth. Laura is dressed in her white, lace skirt that went down to just above her knees. Her shirt is a simple, blue shirt with a red tulip on it that easily brings out her deep green eyes. Her blond hair is tied back in pigtails and she has a pink, bow clip on each side.