In the Hidden

     "I will find you Grace..." the voice echoed. I kept running faster through the abdoned building, tripping through door ways and broken glass. "Grace, why must you run?" Tears start streaming down my face. "Who are you?!" I screamed aloud. No answer. I kept running. I didn't know where I was going but I did know I had to get away from what ever was trying to get to me. Then I wasn't in the building anylonger. I had made my way out into the woods. They looked very much like the woods behind the house. Yes, even the tree laying sideways on the ground. The one that got struck by lighting in that terrible storm last summer. "Grace..." The voice said. I frantically looked around me to see where it came from but no one was there. I feel to my knees in pain, sweat in my eyes. "Who are you?!" i screamed. Silence surrounded me in the darkness. I felt my as if my heart was pounding out of my chest. Then slowly a soft glowing light appeared in front of me, breaking the dark.

     My eyes dart around my room. I let out a sigh of relief. A dream. Oh thank god only a dream. My hand was clutched around my small stuffed rabit, Hopsy. My eyes narrowed and I threw it across the room. "17 years old and I still have you?" I said to myself. It wasn't really my fault. The dreams keep coming to me more often. I'm so tired of the cliche horror movie setting and the womans creepy voice that follows me throughout it. I looked at the clock, 10:12. Thankfully it's Saturday and thankfully summer break is in just two weeks! I threw off my bed covers and dressed in my favoite purple t-shirt with a black lace tank under, and a pair of jean shorts. I stood in my small crammed room deciding I would fix my hair next. I stared at my wavy curls in my vanity mirror. Finally just tying it back into a low pony tail. Then I left my room and made my way to the kitchen there was my grandmother sitting in her usual place at the small corner table. "Morning grandma." "Good morning Grace." She said with a smile, "How did you sleep?" Ignoring the question I asked "Has Mark been here yet?" Mark was a boy in my grade who just lived a few blocks away, he has mowed grandma's lawn for years.

     "No not yet." A car door shut from outside. "I suppose that's him now." Grandma said. "Be a doll and greet him for me Grace, I just started my crossword." I nodded and made my way to the front door. "Hey!" Mark called from his truck. I smiled and walked up to him. "Hey." Mark smiled and then it faded. "How are you?" "Fine, why?" Of course I knew why. Today was the aniversary of my family's death. How could I forget the mind and life scaring event that happend three years ago today. My mother, father, and sister. Friday night, early Saturday morning. A fire burned our house to crumbs. I had stayed at my friends house that night. Mark stared into my eyes deeper. "Well, it's just today -" "I know." I cut him off.

     Once Mark finished mowing he gave me a hug before getting into his truck to go and said, "You know i'm here if you ever need anyone." I nodded kindly and he left. "Did you get the mail?" Grandma called from the kitchen as I walked inside. "I will!" I called back. I walked back outside and opened the rusty mailbox to get the mail. "Just a few bills." I said to grandma walking back inside. She held out her hand for it, not bothering to say anything, for she was so intrigued in her crossword. Before I handed her the mail, I saw one letter adressed to Grace Paltrow. Me? I haven't recived a letter from anyone in ages. This letter didn't even have a return adress. "Here." I handed Grandma the bills, keeping my letter from her. I went out to the back yard and sat on the old bench under the willow tree. We had a wide green backyard. Disturbed by nothing but a tree and bench. Perfectly tended thanks to Mark. I slid my thumb under the flap of the envelope and took and a yellowed peice of paper from inside.

  It had been folded many different ways very messily. I unfolded it slowly to reveal a scribbled note on the inside. "Three years have gone. Three years have passed. Their luck was gone. Yours will end fast. In the middle of summer, when no wind blows. Meet me at night, bring a red rose." My entire world shut down. My head spun with fear as I re-read the poem over and over. Three years. My familys death? Your luck will end soon? When no wind blows? In Kansas there is never a time when no wind blows, except right before a tornado, the sky is grey and calm. I tightend my grip on the paper and then let it drop into the dirt by my feet. So what seemed to be happening? I have to meet someone or something. In the middle of summer. Before a tornado. Where? Why? How? And most importantly...how did this person know about my familys death.