The feeling of something cool was pressed against my forehead, water dripping down my temples. I feel a pounding in my head, I feel like I have become deaf to everything around me, except for the unnecessary feeling of a rock banging into my skull. I can’t open my eyes, like they are glued shut to take me away from the world. I couldn’t move my arms or legs, they felt as if weights were pinning them to the ground. I heard someone whispering, muttering, but I only heard a muffled voice of a girl. I pass out as the girl cools off my face with freezing water.
“Wake up!” I feel someone’s hand gently patting my cheek, as if lightly slapping my face. I groan and slowly crack my eyes open. As I squint, I see the little girl towering over me. As I wince, waiting for the pain of starting to sit up, I surprise myself by easily wobbling to my feet. The pain in my head subsided and I felt...a word you could use was ‘almost human.’
“Who...what...do you remember anything?” I ask. She nods her head eagerly.
“Yes, yes! She was so nice and took care of us and…” She continued talking as I admired the cabin.
The cabin was a one-room house, with one small, ice-covered window and hardwood floors. Two beds were beside each other in the corner of the room, blankets askew and extra clothes neatly piled. Two plates sat upon a table, filled with scrambled eggs, toast, and cut fruit. Did the mysterious girl prepare this for us? Why? She had no idea who we were, showing up in a drab landscape filled with nothing but snow. I spot a small, dusty TV and I brush off the dust and jab the ‘ON’ button. I take the little girl’s hand and take the weight off of our feet, both of us perching on the edges of our seats. A news station for our area has appeared on the screen. A news-anchor with beachy, pin-straight blond hair and a fake smile stares at us.
“Reporters of the area have told us of a young, 17-year old teenager disappearing near Route 61 in Minnesota. Her name is Naomi Stone, and was reported that she was completely alone during the situation.” What the woman said turned me to stone. Apparently, Naomi Stone. I sank in my chair, half-relieved to know a piece of my earlier life but half-devastated to find out what happened to me. I peeked back to the TV, the woman looking slightly confused and holding a hand near the jet-black earpiece.
“Hold on...we’re getting another report of another child-this one is much, much younger. She’s probably around 9 or 10 years old. Her name is...Aviva Starr...yes, only two people involved in this situation...we’ll get back to you folks as soon as we can,” she spoke in a sad voice, sending a tight smile to the camera.
The screen of the woman faded away to black as two pictures of, well, both Aviva and me, headshots probably taken days before the disappearances. I have forgotten what I look like. I had an endless amount of freckles and midnight-colored, very thick hair. I had small lips, a slender nose, and startlingly, black eyes. Aviva had the same blue eyes that seemed as if they went on forever and could bore into you and beautiful blonde hair.
I watched Aviva sip the glass of water placed neatly cautiously her plate.
My heart starts to feel as if it will burst out from my chest. In the long run, we are just two dead kids, no one knows about us, and we’re trying to find shelter. This cabin is not meant for more than a day or two of staying. The roof is collapsing as we speak, the dust overriding everything, only one meal available, of what we just ate. I narrow my eyes and stand up from the chair. My seat slides back and bangs against the wall.
“We have to go. Now. I’m going to check to make sure the snow passed.”
The door creaks as I slap the door open. Cold air bites my faces and sends tin-colored strands of hair into my face. I brush them away with my fingertips and look farther into the distance. No snowfall. We could stay here for longer, with the fear of no more food, another storm, the room collapsing under the snow. Or we could travel to town-wherever that could be-and try to find others. Others. Like us. I look back at Aviva, my new friend, the only one I know who is just like me. She looks at me with a new expression. An expression that shows she wants to find others like us too.
I go to a closet and find down coats and bags full of necessities. I help her with the oversized coat and sling both backpacks on my shoulders, packed with food, water, matches, anything I could find.
“Time to leave.” We step out of the house, prepared for anything to stand in our way.
And we won’t let it.
YOU ARE READING
Five Minutes
Paranormal"That's when I heard a pop, and the daughter stood stock-still. I saw her look down at her chest, wondering what had happened-but I already knew. She collapsed, falling into a heap of snow. Her mother cried out weakly, seeing her little girl with...
