The Days Of Hellfire

Chapter Nine.

WINTER SHOT out of her dreams choking.

She self consciously brought her hand up to her exposed throat and rubbed at her burning lungs with trembling fingers. Her mind raced faster than the wind as she imagined of the sharp tip of the sword from her dream slashing furiously across her neck, the blood from her wound raining down on her and her masked swordsman in thousands of microscopic pelts.

Her stomach suddenly lurched. She rolled over to the side of her bed and heaved, but nothing came out but desperate gags. This was all too much. She knew she was getting worked up over nothing. Thinking about her mom, and that day... It stirred something terrible inside of her that didnt want to be remembered. She didn't want to reminisce about her dead mother. Dreaming about her would not make her come back. Wishing that she was still here, no matter how badly she did it, would not make her come back. She had to stop putting herself through this. This wasn't the first night thoughts of her mother plauged her dreams, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. But she was so tired of it. She was tired of feeling like this.

Winter flung herself backwards on her bed and burrowed her head under deep into her pillows. She tried to imagine something to take her mind off of her frantic heart. She fantasized about food- about her dad being kind enough to make her and Spice breakfast. There would be her favorite breakfast foods: pancakes, eggs, and toast. She would see everything and smile at her father, pleased that he had finally came out of his... whatever he was experiencing since her mom passed, and finally act like her dad again. Like her rock. Her fearless, loving dad who always made everything better. Who always chased away the scary monsters in her closet and in her head.

Her mind then flew to Kristopher, his warm smile burning a hole in her brain the more she imagined it. He was something special. Never in a million years would Winter have thought that she would make a friend like him. Growing up, she hadn't had the opportunity to make many. No one wanted to be friends with the girl who didn't have a mom. The girl who's mom was sick and died in a car crash. Girls would often stay away from her, like she had the plague, or they would stare at her rudely until she forced herself to turn away so that she wouldn't have to see them. In sixth grade, years after her mothers passing, one girl even had the nerve to come up to her and say, quite obnoxiously: "You really don't got no mama?"

Winter had stared at her, disbelief clear on her face. The girl blew a large gum bubble and than popped it.

"What? You got cotton stuffed in your ears or somethin'? I said, you really don't got no mama?"

This had made her mad. With a huff, Winter turned her back on the girl and tried not to let her emotions get the best of her, just like her dad told her to do when someone tried to give her a hard time.

"That ain't none of your business."

The girl was not pleased with this answer. " I just heard that your mama died. I heard that she got in a car crash with Abby's mama, Mrs. Perkins. But Abby's mama is ok, and yours died. Is that true? How come your mama died, but not Abby's? Abby said that its because your mama was full of sin. Was your mama full of sin?"

Winters mouth had flew open. She turned back to the girl, angry and upset and disbelieving. "Who even are you? Stop asking me about my mama. Its none of your business."

The girl popped her gum again. "I'm just asking... is it true that your mama was a witch?"

"What?" Winter shrieked.

"I heard that she was a witch. Abby said that she had big red hair, and her car was full of potions and witch stuff. Sounds like a witch to me."

"My mama was not a witch! Who is Abby? I don't know any Abby."