Shift

Chapter Two

I woke up in my bed, tangled in my navy colored sheets. It was Sunday morning.

My hair and my t-shirt stuck to me like I had sweated all night, which was strange since my window was open and even from across the room, I could feel a cold breeze coming in.

The open window triggered something in my mind and a rush of memories from the day before came flooding back. I gasped, anxiously hurrying to my bathroom mirror to see the bruises I was sure were there.

I approached the mirror with eyes closed, waiting until I was fully in front of it to open them. Instead of seeing a beaten up, broken girl like I expected, I was met by my normal reflection, no injuries at all. I stared curiously at myself, studying my blue eyes for something that was off. I looked like crap, but there was nothing. No bruises, no scrapes, no blood. I didn't even feel sore. I looked down at my clothes, thinking they'd be torn and bloody. I was wearing pajamas.

"What the heck?"

I had hallucinated. That had to be it.

Slowly, I sank away from the mirror until I was sitting on the edge of my bathtub. "What happened to me yesterday?" I whispered.

I sat there for a long time before deciding I needed to get up and get dressed. I wasn't a lazy person and I hated wasting time, especially on the last day of the weekend.

I went to my dresser and sleepily pulled out some jeans. It wasn't until I was buttoning them that I noticed it.

On my hip was a huge, pink, crescent shaped scar, like a bite mark. I ran my fingers over the bumpy mark, entranced.

That weird boy that I'd thought I'd imagined bit me and it's the only thing that left a mark.

With that thought, I hurriedly finished getting dressed, then rushed downstairs to the kitchen.

"Hey kiddo!" Dad said cheerily from the little wooden table we had under the window. He was gulping up a bowl of cereal and eyeing his watch. Of course he had to work today. "Everything okay?"

I realized I was staring at him, my expression motionless. I willed my body to stop shaking. "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied. "Just a little nauseated." I started pouring myself a bowl of cereal that I didn't feel like eating.

"Sorry I couldn't make it home for dinner last night. Someone called in and reported hearing a woman's screams from that abandoned warehouse near the lake."

I froze dead in my tracks, my pulse racing wildly. "What?"

"We had to investigate. It was the strangest thing."

I waited for him to say they found something that would incriminate me. Possibly that they found the dead man and my blood, or that they found my jacket still covering the glass on the windowsill. Instead, he said, "We found nothing."

"Nothing?" I gasped.

"Well, nothing besides a broken window and some rotten floorboards. We think it was just some kids hanging out down there. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" It was an innocent question.

"No, sorry," I told him as I carried my cereal to the table. I was sweating nervously and was beginning to feel like I had the flu.

"I didn't think so." He chuckled. "I raised my daughter right."

I laughed nervously and quickly shoved a bite in my mouth to get him to quit asking questions. Bad idea. It made me even more sick.