Dead Dreams

Six

The second he was gone, I realized how many questions I had. They swarmed my brain and gave me a searing headache. Who was he? How did he get here? How long have I been here? Where is "here"? Where is everyone? There were also a couple of conclusions I was able to make. The boy-Iris-doesn't seem trustworthy in the slightest, but it doesn't seem like he is going to hurt me for now. I am in the middle of who-knows-where, it wouldn't be wise to try to find my way out without a map. The others are most likely still alive for now-but I have no clue what they think might have happened to me. I leaned onto the table, hands behind my head and lightly tugged and prodded at the strands of hair that filled my palms. I felt nauseous and weak, to the point where my limbs were shaking. I looked up to the food. I briefly considered if it was poisoned or had razor blades in it. I pulled the plate to myself and ate. I chewed slowly. There was no sort of unusual flavoring and I didn't feel any hardness to the eggs, which I had decided to eat first. Typically I hated eggs, but these weren't bad at all. They tasted more like cheese. I like cheese. Once I had finished the small portion of eggs, I nibbled at the toast. It had grape jelly on it. I love grape jelly. I scarfed down the rest of the toast, and sipped at the orange juice as I looked around.

This place was decorated amazingly. Did he do this himself? Did he live here alone? Why? I then thought back on the desolate store that the group had decided to stay in. It had been completely empty when we had found it, although the lights were on. Something in the back of my mind finally said it.

There aren't any people here at all.

It was strange, because somehow I knew that. It was pure fact. There were not any people here. That was how this place felt. There was no one else, so even when you needed help-and you would-no person would come and save you. No police. Not even a kind soul. Everything here just reeked of selfishness and fear, like it had somehow seeped into the very dirt that covered the ground outside. Outside. I hadn't looked out there before. It never felt safe to look outside. Then again, I might not ever be safe here. I quietly got up from the table and went to the similar dark purple curtains that hung at the back of the room. Once there, I carefully moved the curtains back, but only a tiny bit. I was still very nervous. Though that nervousness didn't stay long. I was soon very overwhelmed. It was night. The moon was the most apparent feature of the sky, and no stars were out. Trees littered the property, not giving a single clear path into the woods. It was a beautiful picture, except for the fact that it just felt so wrong. There was no reason. I could not think of a single reason why it would bother me so much. I took a deep breath and let the curtain fall back into place.

I need a distraction. I picked up the first book I saw on the nearest shelf, not caring to read the title. I walked over to the couch and flopped down onto it. It was plush, so much so that I sank into it a little. I opened the book and started reading.

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I read and read. I read until the pages got blurry and I began to fall asleep. The eerie silence was really the only thing that I could consider company. I don't think I would be able to tell you half the material of the book. I tried so hard to focus on the book, but my senses had attuned to the silence. The odd thing about silence is that it forces you to listen, and somehow, it can drown out everything else. I put the book on the table and decided to go to sleep. I could deal with everything when I woke up. I made my way through the room and into the hallway, where I stopped at my door. I looked up the stairway to see the door that iris had mentioned earlier. That must be his room. I will have to talk to him tomorrow. I sighed and went into my room.

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We sat around the table, eating dinner. My family has conversation as usual, while I sit and eat quietly. Lately, I haven't been getting good sleep. Though the sleep I get isn't good to begin with, this week had been the worst of it. I feel feverish, like I'll pass out any minute if I don't focus. I am barely awake enough to register that my mom asks me a question, though I can't tell what it is. I just nod at her, and she leaves me alone again. After dinner, I make my way up to my room for a nap. But not before dad calls me. Internally, I can feel disappointment sink in. He needed me to do something. I grudgingly walk back to the kitchen, where I see my mom and dad standing, mom is roughly scrubbing dishes and dad looks at me, though with anger.