𝐵𝑜𝑜𝓀 #𝟣 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓅𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓎 𝒮𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 ↬
Blair Lain is convinced that death is coming for her. Her twin sister, Alex, says she's gone mad. Blair thinks that might be true, but she can't shake this feeling lurking inside her gut that screams tha...
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Counting sheep was dumb.
Maybe it worked for some people, perhaps people who were better at math, but once I got to 314 sheep, I was more awake than ever as my tired brain tried to calculate the next number. I huffed as I rolled onto my stomach, listening to the sound of the rain pelting against the window. I didn't understand how some people, like my sister, thought the rain was somehow comforting. She even enjoyed the cold weather, like some kind of sadist. I clamped my eyes closed, trying desperately to ignore the hiss of the wind in the air and the loud echo of Mrs Marsby's little yapping dog.
It did this every freaking night.
I tried to ignore it.
Usually, I played music, but with the power outage earlier – my iPod was dead and charging, so I was forced to lay here and listen to the constant yap...yap yap...yap...yap yap until I was sure my brain was going to burst.
"God shut the fucccckkkkk up!" I groaned into my pillowcase.
Not even a second later, a sharp yelp followed.
I blinked, loosening the hold on my pillow before I turned a little so I was leaning on my elbow. My ear was to the window, listening to the crack of thunder, the wind, and the rain hammering against the window. No dog. No more yapping. I knew that dogs were sometimes dramatic, but I hoped that the little guy was okay.... I wanted him quiet. Not dead.
I figured someone—maybe even Mrs Marsby—scolded the dog to make him be quiet, and it got startled, but I couldn't shake the timing.... Could I...control things with my mind? Crazy as it sounded, and it was nuts—mental, I sometimes wondered if my sister could do things with her mind. I remembered the first time it had happened. She'd woken me up, holding her blanket in one hand and stuffed rabbit in the other. She was about 6, maybe, and she looked me dead in the eyes and said we needed to spend more time with Dad because he was going to die soon. I hadn't really understood what that meant or why she was so scared. Dad hadn't been sick or anything, but just like she'd predicted.... About 6 months later, he died. She'd also predicted a neighbour dying, a family friend, and...creepiest of all.... Mum. She'd wake up screaming in cold sweats, saying how Mum was going to die.
