All I see are shadows. Trees. The world swimming around me. All the while, I call out for Maeve. But she never comes. I can't find her. Why can't I find her?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Since homecoming night senior year, Aisling Turner has lived in a hell of he...
The rustling behind me grows louder. They're getting closer. I need to get to the lake. I don't know why, but the urge is there. Maybe there's safety in the lake. I keep pushing, watching as the water grows closer through the trees. Almost there.
"Maeve, where-"
The question dies in my mouth as an arm wraps around my middle, yanking me back deeper into the woods. Farther from safety. My heart nearly stops.
"Found ya."
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My eyes flew open as I barely suppressed a gasp. Staring up at the ceiling, I pulled in deep, even breaths, willing the erratic beat of my heart to even out as I shivered. I knew it had nothing to do with the air conditioning being on high to fight off the sweltering, humid Miami heat.
You'd think after five years of these nightmares, I'd grow used to them.
There had been a time when I would sit for hours and try to decipher them. Figure out what they meant. Try and rack my memory for that voice that I could never seem to place at the end. Eventually, I gave up. The dreams held no real clues. It was merely my mind attempting to fill in the blanks of a night I could never fully remember - a night that I should remember, considering it changed everything.
One thing I had grown accustomed to was the guilt. I never found her. Maeve, that is.
It'd be nice if my brain would give me a break so that, at the very least, I could have a happy ending in my dreams. But no. It thoroughly enjoyed torturing me. Almost as much as my mother.
She'd always been that way, but it only worsened after we left Oklahoma. Whatever demands she made, it was easier to give in.
She always said everything she did was out of love. I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with love. But I learned the hard way that you couldn't say that to her.
It only made it worse.
"Aisling Yvette Turner, are you even listening?"
My view filled with my mother's frown, her perfectly styled auburn hair falling into a curtain around her perfectly made-up face. God forbid she leaves the house without looking wholly made up.
I quickly sat up, straightened my back, and looked at the floor.
"Sorry."
"I said I'm going to the store after my nail appointment. Is there anything you need or want?"
It was a trick question. She only asked out of habit. Already, she was more interested in rifling through her oversized purse. I waited until she looked up at me, an eyebrow raised. I shook my head.
I held my breath until she finally hummed her acknowledgment and walked into the kitchen, back to digging through her purse. Silently, I rubbed my sweaty palms against the couch, willing my racing heart to slow down.
