Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Except for the dip in the middle, the mattress wasn’t uncomfortable. I lay on my side, trying to figure out my options.
I didn’t notice I was drifting off until it was too late…
The sidewalk under my feet was old and crumbling, but I knew where to step to avoid the cracks and the parts that were raised up by tree roots. Even though I was fifteen, I was practically skipping. Getting out of school sometimes felt like being released from prison.
Without warning, my steps faltered as I approached our home. It wasn’t much. It had two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen, a living room, and an unfinished basement. But still, it was ours.
But something was wrong.
It took me a moment to realize that my dad’s car was in the driveway. Not the 1973 Ford Gran Torino that was his prized possession. That was kept safely in the one-car garage. My dad had spent years restoring it, often surrounded by neighborhood boys who were equally fascinated with its care and maintenance.
No, this was the car my dad used for work, and it wasn’t even four o’clock yet. He never came home from work this early.
Eager to see him, I opened the screen door. It was nice not to have to use my key in the lock. Most days, I was here for hours before my parents got home from work.
“Dad?”
It took me a moment for my eyes to adjust from the bright light outside. “Dad?”
I headed for the kitchen, thinking that he might be in there getting a snack. But then I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye.
Skidding to a halt, I turned to him. He was in his favorite easy chair, the one he watched television from. “What are you doing home so early?”
The TV wasn’t on. He wasn’t reading the newspaper, either.
“Dad?”
He didn’t look up.
He didn’t say my name.
He didn’t move at all.
“Dad?”
I woke up with a gasp, clutching the sheets to my chest as my heart raced. My mouth was open in an O of horror, but no sound came out. I couldn’t see anything as I tried to suck air into my lungs. It felt like waking from a coma. Like I’d have to relearn how to do everything.
“It’s over,” I mouthed, a sentiment I was repeating in my mind. It was just a dream—a really bad one, but a dream nonetheless. It was over and it couldn’t hurt me anymore.
Until next time.
Gradually, my breathing calmed, but I still couldn’t see. It felt like morning, and I could hear birds singing. Eventually, I realized the issue must be those ugly, heavy curtains that covered the window. I looked at my phone, and it was nearly seven. The sun should definitely be up by now.
I untangled myself from the covers. As always, they’d gotten twisted up while I fought my way out of the nightmare.
Shakily, I padded over to the window and lifted the heavy curtain. I was still sweating from the bad dream. It would’ve been nice to feel the fresh, cool air rush over me, but the window appeared to be painted shut.
The view of the tall trees was calming, even if I couldn’t experience the fresh air. After a few minutes, I headed toward the shower. The small stall was the same shape as a port-a-potty, but at least the water was refreshing. I started it mildly warm, and then raised the heat as my body returned to its normal temperature.
I tried not to think while the water ran over my skin. Or at least I tried not to think about the nightmare. Instead, I thought about Brady, Cole, and Gideon, and not in a good way. Not in the way I sometimes daydreamed about men when I was in the shower.
This was their fault. If they hadn't brought me out here, I’d have slept in my own bed and utilized the routines that kept the nightmares at bay. They had no right to do this to me.
But they had, and now it was my turn to get back at them. By the end of the week, they’d be sorry as hell they’d dragged me out here.
Really, really sorry.
“Did everyone get enough to eat?” Brady asked. The breakfast spread he’d made was all that he promised and then some, but unlike last night, I picked at my food. I didn’t usually eat a meal that big in the evening, and I wondered if it had contributed to my sleep issues.
“Yes, thanks,” Penny said in a small voice. She wasn’t much of a morning person, but she’d managed to show up for breakfast looking alert and put together.
I, on the other hand, was usually eager to start my day by this point, but not today.
Cole and Brady were the only ones who ate heartily. Gideon was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. Hopefully he’d gone back to his home, wherever it was.