Chasing the Storm (Chasing the Storm, #1) - PUBLISHED

Chapter Seven

“Mom wants you, Run,” my big brother Michael says ominously, sneering. He’s not my real brother. His mom fosters me. “She said to come now.”

“Don’t call me that,” I say firmly. “My name is not Run!”

“Whatever, Run. Mom wants you.”

“MICHAEL!” Miss Payton yells, startling the both of us. I can tell that Michael wants to run and hide, too.

“He’s coming, he’s coming!” he replies.

“Yes, Miss Payton! I’m coming!” I go in the opposite direction of where I wish I could, which is the front door, and when I find Michael’s mom, I wish I had listened to myself.

“Did you use a towel to dry the guest bathroom floor?” Miss Payton asks firmly, staring hard into my eyes before taking a drag of her cigarette.

“Uh… Y-yes, ma’am…” I reply. “I… I didn’t want anyone to slip…”

Did I do something wrong?

“That was my towel, you ninny,” she says, her eyes squinted and her face red. Scared, I start to slowly back away. “What is it going to take for you to not act like you don’t know anything? You’ve been in this house for two months for heaven’s sake, and I’m still dealing with this!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Payton… I… I didn’t want anyone to get hurt…”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who’s going to get hurt!” she shouts firmly. My left arm suddenly experiences a fiery tight squeeze that’s sure to leave a mark and I’m spun around to face the wall. “One for every year you’ve brought the underworld to this earth!”

I’m confused for just a second until my shirt is lifted and I feel a small burning sensation on my back. As it gets hotter and more painful, I try to get away, but am unable. Michael’s mother holds me too tightly.

Then I start to scream.

The excruciating burning of the cigarette becomes unbearable, and by the fifth one… the second to last one, I’m sure I won’t survive this. Tears stream down my face as I continue to fight her. This only makes her angrier and she threatens to give me one more for “good luck”.

Why is she doing this to me?

“Please stop!” Each one makes me scream. Every time the tip of the cigarette touches my back I scream even louder. I call, “Michael!” but he never comes.

“Michael, close the door and stand by it!” his mom orders.

“Miss Payton! Please!”

I scream again when hands touch my shoulders and I’m violently shaken.

“Abby! Abigail! Wake up!”

Screaming myself awake, I then sit up straight in my bed, breathing heavily. I run my fingers through my hair as I repeat, “It was just a dream. It was just a dream. A horrible, horrible dream.”

“You were talking – er, screaming – in your sleep…” Mandy says, startling me. I forgot she was here… My head is stuck in my nightmare. “Who is Michael?” She seems very concerned, so I quickly explain that my mind made the person up.

I can’t help thinking of how the dreams are becoming increasingly disturbing… and they feel so real!

The door suddenly swings open and my mother appears in the doorway with a very concerned look on her face. She asks, “Are you girls okay?!”