I stare into the mirror as I lean against the sink, studying the face that stares back at me. Physically she looks like me; her shoulders narrow and her features angular. Her small lips are pale and freckles dot her thin nose and cheeks. Her eyes are too large and round, one a bright blue and the other a vivid green. Her light brown hair is too long, falling limp and straight just shy of her waist.
But do I really have those dark purple bags under my eyes? Have they lost their light so now I can barely tell which is which? Is my skin pale and clammy? Does my hair look that straw-like and lifeless as it hangs from my head like a curtain?
I guess lack of sleep can change a person, both physically and mentally.
For the past week I've been having the same recurring dream about my sister―or I guess the same recurring nightmare. I've been trying not to sleep because once I do, I'm transported to that cavern with the dripping water and the glowing crystals.
The nightmare always ends the same. There's a ball of light approaching me, a loud ear-splitting screech, followed by my sister screaming my name―
And then I wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air and clutching my comforter with such a tight grip that my knuckles turn white.
I still don't understand that nightmare. I don't get it and because of that I can't focus on anything. I've become so out of it that I can barely keep track of what day it is and when I should eat. I ran into a tree yesterday because of it. When I fell off my bike after nearly head-butting the trunk, I got scratches all over my hands from attempting to catch myself.
I graze my fingers over the scratches and the girl in the mirror does the same. I blink and she follows. I guess she really is me.
With a sigh, I slide my white headband into my hair and slip into my light brown moccasins. I may be having nightmares, but life still goes on which means school.
I don't even bother with cover-up for the dark circles under my eyes, it's not like I'll be talking to anyone anyway. I grab my backpack and tie before making my way downstairs and to the dinning room while securing the silky red tie around my neck.
I'm the first one downstairs so there's no homemade breakfast waiting on the table for me. I breathe out another sigh of disappointment as I enter the kitchen and pour myself a bowl of cereal.
I chew slowly and stare off into space, thinking about the last nightmare I had. The light touched me before I woke up, its brightness burning my arm when I tried to cover my face. I set down my spoon and pull up the sleeve of my dark blue blazer.
The hairs on my arm are singed off, a long red burn replacing them. At least the blisters aren't so bad, but it will scar.
I hear the floorboards creak as footsteps approach.
My fingers tug down the sleeve of my blazer to cover the burn as I finish up my cereal. When I glance over my shoulder, I find Charlie rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his fists. He's wearing his red pajamas with little trains on them, his hair mused and his bright blue eyes groggy. He yawns.
"Good morning," he murmurs in a soft voice, his vowels and constantans slurring together which makes it difficult for me to understand him.
I give him a nod in return and take another bite of my Cheerio's.
As he sluggishly makes his way onto the chair beside me, I retrieve an extra bowl from the cupboard and pour him some Frootloops since I don't know when Mother will be down.
We sit in a peaceful silence, the only sound being our spoons clinking against the bowl and the muffled munching of cereal being chewed. After a moment I glance over at my younger brother out of the corner of my eye and see him swing his little legs back and forth as he holds his spoon horizontally. He shovels another spoonful in his mouth.
A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I watch him. It must be nice to be so young and innocent; oblivious to what's going on around you. Sometimes I wish to be like that, but I know that I'd rather be in the loop than out of it. As of right now, I'm somewhere in the middle.
Heels clack on the staircase as our mother makes her way down the wooden steps. I take this as my cue to leave.
After placing my bowl in the sink, I give Charlie a kiss on the head before hurrying out the door, not wanting to risk any interaction with Mother; though the chances of that happening are slim.
With one final glance at my house while thoughts of my younger brother swim through my head, I climb onto my bike and make my way to the hell that is my high school.
Once there, I walk inside of the building with my head down. It's not like I can see over anyone's shoulder anyway, I haven't even hit five-foot yet. I don't think I ever will so I am doomed to stare at the cracked linoleum flooring and people's shoes for the rest of my high school career. It's fascinating how so many people can own the same type of shoe and not realize it.
I dial in my combination and grab my chemistry book, hurrying to class so I won't be counted tardy. I slide into my desk near the window and start to copy down the homework assignment that is written on the board when I freeze. My body tenses as the grip on my pen tightens.
I'm being watched.
My eyes slowly travel around the classroom, but no one is paying any attention to me. I then turn my gaze to the courtyard outside of the window. It's small and sits in the middle of the school with a few picnic tables and benches scattered around it. The large oak tree that sits in the middle is shadowed from the school two story building.
I narrow my eyes at it as I look closer, seeing someone standing underneath the tree's branches.
I gasp.
Due to the shadows casted by the building and the tree, their features are hidden, but I can tell that they're human. I squint and lean a little closer to the window so I can see better, but the stupid tree blocks my view.
Whoever is standing underneath the tree isn't the only reason why I gasped. Sure it's surprising to see what you think is a person standing next to an oak tree in the middle of a courtyard and staring right at you, but what's even more surprising is what they do when I see them.
My eyes widen and my lips part as I watch them openthe side of the tree like it is some sort of door and slip inside. The last thing I see before the tree's door closes is a bushy tail.
What in the world?
I must be seeing things. That's what lack of sleep can do to someone, right?
I feel as if I'm on the verge of hyperventilating as I turn back around to see if anyone else saw what I saw, but they're all staring at me instead. Even my chemistry teacher is watching me with a look of confusion. My cheeks flame up and I stare down at my lap with clenched fists.
"Ms. Grace, are you okay?" My teacher asks and my head snaps up, my cheeks still warm with embarrassment.
"Uh, yes. I-I thought I saw something . . ." I trail off in a murmur as I look back down at my lap, wishing that everyone would stop staring at me―it's a little unnerving.
It's moments like this when I wish that I have an amazing superpower where I can make myself disappear or turn invisible.
"Anyway. . ." my teacher starts as she continues the lesson. There is a pause before I hear the creaking of the wooden chairs and shuffling of feet as my classmates turn to face the front of the class, my moment of weirdness forgotten.
I let out a sigh of relief when the heat of their gazes trails from me to the teacher, glad that they have someone else to focus on. I glance up from my notes again and look out the window at the large oak tree, waiting for something―anything―to happen to prove that I'm not crazy, but once again I'm met by a familiar nothingness that seems to have a constant presence in my life.
. . .
I stand in front of the massive oak tree in the middle of the school courtyard with my bag slung over my shoulder. It's the end of the school day. The last bell having already rung and most of the students gone, leaving me, the tree, and a few laggers who are still waiting for their rides. I don't notice anyone else in the courtyard as I clench my hands into fists and stare at the tree with a scowl on my face.
A soft breeze picks up around me, rustling the many leaves on the tree and blowing my navy blue skirt around my thighs. I reach my hand out and run it along the bark of the tree, searching for a crack or some sort of seam where the door could be as I slowly walk around it.
It's so weird. How the heck can a tree have a door? Did someone hollow it out or something? Even then, the tree isn't that big so what were they going to do, just sit there?
I am almost back to where I started when I feel a hand clamp over my mouth and pull me into the shadow of the tree. I try to scream, but the hand muffles my protest as I struggle against their grip, trying desperately to break free. Their too strong though. In a moment my arms are pinned to my sides and I'm pressed up against the tree so I can't move my legs, my left cheek digging into the bark
"Be careful," they hiss in a low voice, leading me to inquire that whoever this is has to be male, "they're watching you. Watch your back and stay on your toes. You're not safe."
My eyes widen at the mention of my safety. He was telling me this when he was a stranger who has me pressed up against a tree in a death grip? Oh the irony.
"Never give up," he adds before I feel the grip on me loosen, causing my legs to buckle under me. I fall to my knees beside the tree, my fingers scratching at the bark as I try to find balance.
"Who―?" I start as I whip around to confront whoever attacked me, but I find the courtyard empty. There's only a soft breeze that whispers by, the frigid air nipping at my cheeks as I continue to search for whoever gave me that warning.
What is going on? First Nina disappears, Mother turns emotionless, then I get some messed up nightmares and start seeing people with tails disappearing into trees, and now this? What does he mean 'they're watching me'? Who are 'they' exactly? And how in the world did he disappears so fast?
All of these questions swim through my head as I march over to my bike, stomping my feet in frustration at my lack of answers. I climb onto the seat and race to my house, barely paying attention to what's going on around me as my eyes narrow with anger.
I don't know what the hell is going on here, but I'm going to find out.
Tonight I'm breaking into my sister's room.