Chapter Nineteen

8.1K 253 29
                                    

I wake-up in a cold sweat, my Hello Kitty cotton nightgown clinging to my skin like a lifeline. My head aches from being pulled into a high ponytail the whole night and I whimper quietly as I yank at the hair-tie. Clutching the tie, along with a few strands of my golden locks, I slide out of bed.

Wobbling on the fuzzy pink throw rug in front of me, I take deep, slightly panicky breaths, trying to steady myself. For the past few days, I had been haunted with terrible nightmares, but at five, mom had banished me from her room at night unless it was an absolute emergency. To me, a nightmare was an absolute emergency, however, to my sleep-loving mother it was hardly a big deal. She said I was a big girl now and I didn't need to sleep with her anymore; that it was for babies. I think she was just tired of being woken up in the middle of the night. This was confirmed when the night before I attempted her door only to find it was locked. I had chanted a mantra to myself all the way back to my room that I would be fine, I was a big girl, and the nightmares couldn't hurt me.

I was very wrong. Last night's nightmares were the worst yet; a giant snake hissing my name over and over to the beat of ear-splitting thunder. I was paralyzed and the snake came closer and closer to my small kid body until I could feel his scales against my palm. Then something had grabbed me from behind and started to pull me back, but the snake followed. No matter where this thing behind me hid me, the snake would find me. At the end of the dream, I was hiding in a cupboard in my kitchen when the snake hissed my name with overwhelming hatred, and then it shot through the door of the cabinet with its teeth surging towards my face.

Slowly, I glance around my room. There is no snake lurking in the shadows. My room is exactly as I had left it when I fell asleep.

My walls are painted a pale pink, and are accented with little swirls of gold paint throughout the wall. A flower pattern lamp sits on my bedside table, as well as a picture of my dad in his uniform and a small vile of Vick's Vapor Rub- I had been feeling sick for about a week.

The comforter I had gotten for Christmas had hearts printed all over the quilted white fabric- it now rested in a heap on my floor. My dad had sent it to me from overseas in a bright blue box. The note that had accompanied it was tucked safely beneath my bed; unopened. Dad said I could only open it when he got home from the war because he wanted to see my face when I read it. Mom said their was a surprise inside. Personally, I was hoping for candy- even though it would be stale after being under my bed for nearly a year.

I drop my hair band on the floor and hurry over to my small little calendar hanging by its frail ivory ribbon on the wall across from me. Squealing, I grab my fat red marker from my 'art station'- which consisted of a stack of paper, a mini easel with an unpainted canvas on it, and a box of paint all stacked neatly on my distressed white table- and draw a large 'X' over the previous day. Studying it with delight, I trace my finger over the words 'Dad comes home' that are scrawled in my mom's neat handwriting on tomorrow's date. Dad was finally coming home! Tomorrow I would see him again!

Suddenly, it didn't matter that I had had a terrible nightmare in my sleep. What mattered was the fact that my dad was coming home to me and mom! What mattered was that I would finally open that note! What mattered was my mom would no longer have to stare wistfully out the window as Dex's parents walked hand in hand up the sidewalk on their afternoon stroll!

Excitedly, I bound out of my room; charging towards the kitchen where my mom is bound to be. The smell of bacon and eggs and grapefruit juice fills my nose. I had woken-up to that smell everyday of my life, and it never went down in appeal. I could almost taste the slightly undercooked eggs, with the crunchy bacon, and the cool sweet taste of the juice sliding down my dry throat. Just the thought of having the delicious food in my mouth propels my feet faster down the hall.

Finding HimΌπου ζουν οι ιστορίες. Ανακάλυψε τώρα