Darkest Call

Chapter Four

I saw the graveyard that night. Except it did not look the same. Well it did, but then it did not. It was nighttime. The graveyard was beautiful in the gleam of the stars. Judging by small flowers and the leaves, that had not quite open yet, I would guess it was March. A small breeze was rustling the trees. It was dead quiet, as if the God of Silence had walked through this place. The smell was the weirdest. It was sweet from the newly opened early-spring flowers, and then it was too sweet. Death. The word came to me once again. I smelled like death and flowers. I moved slowly through the maze of paths and gravestones. A black bird – was it a crow? – flew from a stone. I turned towards it. The words inscribed on the gravestone made me shutter. James Smythe, loved to the last, it read. James Smythe. Did I know a James Smythe? I had always thought, that my grandparents had been the first Smythes to move to the States from Europe. At least, that was what they always said. I turned away from James Smythe's grave and walked on.
"Help me" The voice was a whisper. I turned towards it. The breeze was lifting my hair. "Help her" another voice. Another whisper. I saw someone in the distance. A blonde girl. She looked familiar. But she had her back towards me. I tried to help her, as the voices told me to, but I could no longer move. I was stuck. Someone came up to the blonde girl. They had a knife, I closed my eyes. Somewhere, the crow screamed.

*****

I was sweating when I woke. It was pitch dark outside. I looked at my phone, which told me it was not more than three in the night. I was breathing loudly. My bed covers were damp from sweat. I stood up and went over to my window, opening it and letting in the cold wind. I slowly breathed in the cold air. My thoughts were one big mess. It was not the first time I had dreamt of that graveyard since my birthday. But this was not like the other dreams. The other dreams were memories. They were the hallucination, I had had. This was something else. This was something, that had not yet happened. Another hallucination?
Something came to my mind. James Smythe. A name. A relative? I had never heard of him. I had not heard much of most of my family outside US, but my grandfather had mentioned them, even shown me a few pictures. There were my grandfather's siblings, he had a lot of those. I had also seen old pictures of my great-grandparents. But except for those, I did not know much of my family. I knew my great grandfather also had lot of siblings, 6 to be exact. My Grandfather never talked much about them. Figured with 6 aunts or uncles, it would be hard to get a close relationship with them. I mean, look at my relationship with my aunt. She cared for me, and I for her, but that was about it. Conversations often felt forced, especially since my birthday party.

A flicker in the bushes threw my attention to the woods. I could not see anything, so I figured it was just an animal. As I sat staring out the window, I realized how cold I was. Goose bumps covered my arms. I stared out the open window for a while, then I got up, closed the window, and went back to bed. I did not sleep the rest of the night.'

*****

I went to Blackwell's that Sunday. Not because I had to, but because I needed something to clear my mind of the dream. All of Saturday had gone with trying to complete homework, then finding myself typing the same words again and again, until I gave up. For some reason, I did not believe Ms. Dreen would like an entire Chemistry assignment saying: Help her and James Smythe. It was quiet at Blackwell's. Michael Blackwell, one of the guys running the place, had taken most of the kids to the mall. Only baby-Josef and the four-year-old twins were there. Josef, who was growing every day, was sleeping when I came. Ms. B just smiled at me and sent me to the kitchen. It was Lucy's eleventh birthday tomorrow. Both Ad and Nicola would come with me to the Orphanage then, but for now it was just me, making the cake. Or cupcakes as it actually was. I had nothing against cupcakes. In fact, I was pretty good at making them. My mom and I would always make them, when she got off early from the hospital, or whenever she needed something to cheer her up, after a patient had died. Or when I needed cheering up. Just basically whenever there was an excuse for it. The result of that, had been my skill for decorating the cupcakes. I was not nearly as good as those people, you would see at Instagram, but I was decent. My mom and I had often baked together. A hobby I still enjoyed, even though I never baked for no reason any longer. Not when I was alone at least. I found myself missing my mom too much. It was a big birthday, that would be celebrated tomorrow. One of the things Blackwell's always made sure of, was that on their birthday, the children got what they wanted, if it was within reasonable boundaries. Tomorrow, that meant having all of Lucy's friends at the Orphanage. Lucy was a popular kid at her school. Not like her brother, who would always turn quiet, when too many people were in the same room as him. 13-year-old Riley's boyfriend would also be there. Something the younger girls were very excited about. Now, I had never been in a relationship, but I was pretty sure all you did in a relationship as 13-year-olds were holding hands and telling people you were together. But what did I know?