4oo votes! Yes I made the 0's two lower case o's!!
~You lie through your teeth, you won't let me down, you won't let me down.
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My mother answered the phone after a short three rings with a chirped, “Honey-Buns! You finally answer my calls! I was worried you forgot about your old mother and let yourself drown in the fame you now have at your job!”
I sighed heavily at that last comment. “Mom, I’m not famous,” I said blandly, my face filled with determination as I wiggled my butt in my seat. I switched the phone to the other ear. “How are Dad and Aunt Sarah?”
“They’re great! Dad got your old car up and running this weekend. Aunt Sarah and Andrew are getting pretty serious. Just the other day Andrew let her play with his hair! In public!” I started to laugh out loud as she continued. “And I’m crying every five minutes about my baby being all grown up and working for the man. How’s your job, anyways? How’s life?”
“Fine,” I replied dryly, trying to keep in my emotions. David and I had built up a massive wall of tension earlier that day, and it was still bothering me to no end. “Work is fine; I’ve met some…. nice people at the building. Marcy loves college so far too she can’t stop talking about it.”
I wanted to say, “Mommy, my life sucks. My boss is a jerk who led me on, only to tell me has a hot girlfriend. Currently I want to rip his head off and am debating whether to go to work in the morning. I’m sitting on a plastic container with the Grim Reapers cloak inside, and I have a deadline to return the cloak before all hell breaks loose! Literally! I want to go home and sleep in my bed one last time because deep down I know something bad is going to happen to me, really, really soon. Oh, and Marcy keeps trying to hook me up with guys that work at McDonalds.”
But instead, the lies just kept coming.
“Want to tell me what’s really going on? Is it about that boss of yours again? I’ll come over there if you need me,” she pressed, sounding as if she started putting away the dishes. “You sound a little stressed, baby.”
I forced a laugh, uncomfortably looking at the clock. When I saw I only had two hours until twelve o’ clock. I let out a long breath. Where would I put the cloak? Did he want me to place it outside? Would he come in and get it? Did I have to take down the cross? Should I just keep it in the container?
God help me, she had no idea how much stress I was in. “So many problems I can’t even count,” I muttered without thinking.
There was a pause on the other line, so long that I started to wonder if she hung up. “I love you, baby.”
I couldn’t say it back, there was just some reason I couldn’t say it back.
She let out a shaky breath. “Faith, why did you throw out that old bear, Mr. Wiggles? You had so many memories with it as a child; it was adorable when you wouldn’t go to sleep until he was tucked in next to you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that random comment. She was the one that told me to throw it out in the first place. “Yeah, you said to throw it out, Mom. Are you already losing your memory?” I joked, a smile plastered on my face.
When she didn’t say anything right away I added, “Why? What about it?”
“I’m Mr. Wiggles and I love to sing a song,” a deep voice sung into the phone, followed by a chuckle.”Damn, I just love that bear to bits. You know I have him, right?”
I struggled to keep the phone in my hands at the all too familiar voice. “Don’t touch her,” I managed my hand loose on the phone. “Don’t you put one finger on my mom or I’ll—“
He gasped dramatically. I could visualize him putting a hand to his chest.“Faithy-poo! I would never. I’m just helping out with your chores you can’t do anymore,” he interrupted, sounding like he was moving around dishes. My mouth started to feel dry at the thought of my mother on the kitchen floor, face down in a puddle of her own blood.
“What do you want?” I whispered, getting up from my seat and pacing the floor. “I’ll do anything, just please, don’t hurt my parents.”
“Oh, I don’t want anything from you that I can’t take. I’ll let you down easy, babe. I’m actually in nobody’s house…because you’re dreaming. I know, I know, I’m a complete ass who is just an ‘A plus’ actor when it comes to mimicking people around you, even in your dreams. It comes with the image.”
“W-what?” I stuttered, staring at my closed door. I backed up until I hit the far wall. “A dream? How? I don’t believe you, I want proof.”
A solid knock hit my bedroom door, practically breaking it down. “Open up the door my little cupcake. I made dream-nachos, and they are extra cheesy. Just as good as the real ones, except…spicier,” his deep voice rang, from the opposite side of the door. “We can snuggle and watch a movie if you want since this is your dream, but only if you want to get friendly with some sharp objects. If not, we have to settle on some agreements in this relationship.”
I froze in my spot, letting the phone drop to the floor. “This can’t be happening,” I muttered, my lips shacking. “You’re not real. This can’t be—“
The door slammed open, revealing my worst nightmare.
He wore a pair of black skinny jeans paired with a leather jacket that popped at the collar. Underneath the shirt he wore a V neck black t-shirt, and a visible studded belt. His wide shoulders barely fit through the door, and he had to duck his shadowed head when entering the room. In one of his dark hands he held a large plate of nachos.
“Shit, this room is tiny even in a dream,” he commented, chewing on a mouthful of food. Had he been in my room before? He kicked the door closed behind him, making sure to lock it. “It’s ok though I forgive you. At least your room isn’t covered with pink throw up like Marcy’s. It’s hard to breath in there it’s so pink.”
His head moved around the room, until finally resting on me.
I shivered, feeling the strength of his gaze and took a careful step back. My eyes drifted to the plastic container on the floor, and I pointed to it. “It’s right there.”
He tilted his head a little at the sound of my voice, leisurely walking to the corner of my room. With his foot, he skillfully flipped the lid off. “Faith, you know this is a dream right? You don’t have to pee your pants,” he drawled, without even glancing at the contents of the container.
“Nobody is wetting their pants,” I defended my fists clenched. “I have the cloak, so just take it and go…just go.”
The man arched his back as if to stretch lazily and then only to sit up straight once again. “Faith, Faith, Faith….Faith-Faith-Faith…. Faith.”
He just kept saying my name in different patterns, staring down at the container. I knew it was just another way to annoy me until I flipped out.
“Stop it,” I finally said after minutes of him singing my voice, my voice surprisingly level. I was getting tired of him teasing me in his dangerous manner. Whenever I teased him back, I was threatened in some sort of way.
“Hey Joy,” he said, as if he hadn’t seen me, his voice thick with playfulness. He took another nacho off of the plate and took a vicious bite of it, before falling on the bed and lying on his side. He put the plate next to his head, and leaned his head on his hand in a seductive manner. “So... are you going to tell me where my cloak is? Or do I have to—“he waved a hand in the air, “--get it out of you… with force?”
“What? It’s not there?”
He threw his arm up at his side. “That’s what I just said. Whatever is here in this particular dream is there in real life and I see absolutely no cloaks floating around the room.”
My eyes widened as I hurried over to the container. Inside was a fuzzy pink bath robe, with a cross at the top. “But I—I…..”
“You what?” he hissed, his voice directly by my ear. I froze under his warm breath, my heart beginning to pound. “You…lost it?”
I wiped a bead of sweat off of my forehead. I had lost the Grim Reaper’s cloak.
I turned around to see him by the window, his hands on top of his head in frustration. His movements were so fast it was hard to keep track of where he was. “If this is a dream…maybe in the real world it’s there? I…I really don’t know. I put it in the container and folded it. I guess…I guess I put rocks on top of it…I don’t remember doing that—“
“Rocks.” He said the word as if it was the filthiest word to ever cross his mouth. His shadowed face turned to me, and he pointed an accusing finger at me. “You put rocks on top of my cloak, and expected it to not, you know, escape?”
“What do you want me to say?” I burst out. “I put it in the crate, I couldn’t use the cross because I put it on the door! This is so freaking wierd to begin with! Who has a piece of clothing that hums, and follows you into the bathroom?”
Neither of those things had thankfully happened to me...yet.
“So I wouldn’t be able to get in the house,” he said, ignoring my rant. “Instead of keeping the cloak in the container, you focused on keeping me out of the house. Very intelligent, now look where we are. No cloak, and technically I'm in your house.”
I ran a hand through my hair feeling overheated in embarrassment. “It’s got to be in the house somewhere.”
“It could be anything,” he blurted. “It can become anything, and I need it by twelve tonight or else I’m screwed,” he growled, his tone dark. “It’s already eleven thirty. Do you have any other smart plans, Faith?”
All the anger that had built up inside me that day just burst at the seems.“Stop blaming me for everything!” I reached onto my nightstand and threw the nearest object at him. He grabbed it before it hit his face, as he did the first time I tried to throw something at him, and dropped it on the ground.
I stood awkwardly under his heated gaze until he finally spoke up, “If you let me in the damn house I can find it. You have to invite me now, because you insist on putting that cross up and ending my invitation”
“I don’t want you in my house.”
“Well, you’re going to have to. I need the cloak.”
I shook my head, starting to get a bad feeling. “You know, now that I think about it. I know for a fact that I put the cloak in a plastic container with a cross on top of it,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “You son-of-a-bitch, you really want to get into my house that badly?”
He leaned against the wall with a chuckle, completely loosing the aggravated, stiff posture he had before. “Wow, it’s starting to get creepy how well you know me. Yeah, you’re right. The cloak is still in the container, I just wanted to get something else out of it.”
I snorted. “You know, you’re am intimidating jerk when you want to be.”
“I know,” he said shortly, shrugging slightly. “It’s a bad habit.” He pushed off of the wall, crossing the room in fast strides. I hadn’t expected it and practically threw myself against the wall.
“Oh, wow,” I gasped out, as he moved from five feet away, to inches away. “Um…I would like to wake up now—“
He placed a finger over my mouth. “Faith, there’s a reason I hopped into your dream like this. I want you to put the cloak on.”
“Put it on? You want me to put it on?” I sputtered, intensely aware of the fact that his body had pressed closer against me.
“Yes, my stupid little strawberry- frosted cupcake. I only mentioned it in the letter and gave you many hints,” he whispered, dragging a finger down my cheek. The small action felt wrong, as if he was seeing the situation completely different than mine. I shivered against the wall as he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. “I want you to put it on because I want you to see.”
“See what?” I said softly, my heart pounding in anticipation.
He chuckled deep in his throat, tightening his hold on the back of my neck as he muttered next to my ear, “See the deal your mother made with me only fourteen years ago.” He pressed his hand against my stomach, igniting a flash of pain in my stomach. I grabbed onto his hand, making my body instantly heat up to an unnatural temperature. “Say you’ll put it on, and I’ll let go," he said throatily.
“STOP!” I screamed, my head hitting the wall in pain. I dug into his hand with my nails, but it only made him chuckle even more.
“Say it.” I stared wide eyed his darkened face, that seemed once again like a black hole. I realized I had been avoiding his face all along, as if I would see something I wouldn’t like. He breathed heavily on my face, sending a massive chill down my back. “Stop staring at me, you’re making me blush scarlet.”
“I’ll do it,” I bit out, cringing away from him. “I’ll put it on.”
The hooded man let go of my stomach and leaned towards me once again, snickering to himself. Instead of saying anything, he poked my nose with his finger and took a step back. “TTYL,” he cheered, making a claw with his hand. He straightned, giving his head a nice scratch.“That means ‘talking to you later’ if you didn’t know. I just recently learned about shortened communication. You people just loose more and more brain cells.”
“Wonderful,” I huffed, my chest still rising and falling at an unnatural pace. How could he be so casual after causing me so much pain?
Before performing his little disappearing act out of the window, and ending the dream that was so realistic it scared me, he muttered a few lingering words, “And you by the way Hope, are officially my BFF.”
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IF YOU HAVE NOT DONE SO ALREADY-----
Re-read the prologue because I added some stuff in it that's important to the novel! SUCH AS- her strange blue eyes and black hair! STRANGE? I think so! It's explained in the prologue ;)