Finally (Mileven)

Chapter 4

Even though she really wanted to sit down and talk with her dad, Jane still wasn't feeling well after her 'episode', so she decided to go to her room. Her room had an old recliner that had belonged to Hopper's grandfather and she absolutely loved it. When Hopper had first brought it from his grandparent's old cabin, Jane thought it looked, well, awful. Its upholstery was old and worn, an orange and brown plaid pattern that was popular in the 70's, but the cushions had held up even after all these years, and it was actually quite comfortable. It was originally in their living room in Colorado, but when Hopper moved to New York, the chair wouldn't fit in her new place, and he took it with him. She settled into the chair and pulled her legs up under her. Her thoughts returned back to what happened on the porch. She was interested in what happened, but also a little frightened. What were the images and what did they mean? Feeling a little confident, she closed her eyes and tried to find them again. Rolling her head around her shoulders, she shut out the sounds of the night, her eyes moving around under her lids. Her breathing evened out and her grip on the armrests relaxed.

Jane sat there for what felt like minutes, and was about give up, when a flash shot through her mind. She was unable to make out what it was, but another went by, and this one was slow enough that she could see something. It was grainy and somewhat blurry, but she could make out some type of building, concrete, tall, with symmetrical windows. It looked imposing and hard and sterile. She instantly disliked it. Nothing good could come out of that place, she decided quickly. The image panned up and there were trees as far as the eye could see, in every direction. The building was sitting in the middle of all the trees. In a forest. She didn't see anything else. The picture blurred then faded away, and was replaced with a looming wall of rock. There was a pond or lake beside this wall, its still water reflecting the wall back upon itself. She looked up and noticed what could be rock ledges at the top. Then everything disappeared. She was in a forest now. Was this the same one from before? The question went unanswered as she moved around the forest floor, gliding and circling around trees and shrubbery. She could see some kind of structure in the distance. She moved toward it.

The quick shot revealed an old, nearly abandoned house, and for some reason, was clearer. It moved inside. Dusty, yellowed sheets covered all the furniture and there were cobwebs hanging from everything, some going from the ceiling to the floor. The floor itself was covered with a thick layer of dust. There were shapes moving around in the room, people, and every time they walked, they left swirling clouds in their wake. Packed boxes were strewn about, with various labels on them. Jane couldn't read what they said. Her view pivoted to an old record player by the window. Glancing down, she gasped. The record sitting on the turntable was her dad's Jim Croce LP. The same one that had been playing when she had arrived home that evening.

Her eyes popped open and she shot forward. She didn't realize it but she was breathing heavily, and her hands were clutching the arms of the chair. And, like before, she was sweating. She felt weak and there was a dull ache in the front of her head. Her mouth was dry, and she felt like she had dust in her nose. She got up and went down the hall to the bathroom.

Grabbing the glass off the sink, Jane quickly filled it and drank greedily. Water rivulets rolled from her mouth down her chin. She refilled the glass and drank again, this time slower. Putting the glass down, she rested her palms on the sink and bowed her head, taking long, deep breaths, in and out. There was a tissue box on the counter and she snatched a tissue out and blew her nose, trying to get whatever was tickling it out. When Jane pulled the tissue away, she was shocked to see that the tissue was spotted with blood. For the first time, she looked at herself in the mirror over the sink, and almost didn't recognize herself.

She looked so tired. Her eyes were tinged with red, and they had darkened a bit underneath. She was pale, like she'd been sick. And her nose still had some blood in it. What was weird, though, was that it seemed only the left nostril was bleeding. The right didn't have any blood in it that she could see. She leaned closer to the mirror and she could see a tiny trickle just starting to slide out of her nose. She reached up with the tissue and wiped it away. She noticed her hand was shaking.