Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I felt a pang of regret for a second at leaving her behind. Would she really be okay on her own, or had I been selfish to desert her?
I was beginning to worry, but like always she changed her tune again and was back to being light and fun.
She wanted to know every single thing from the minute I landed until now. I listened closely to her voice. Growing up it was the only way to gauge her true emotions, to know what was really going on in her head.
***
We stayed on the phone for a little while longer, before I had to go do the week’s laundry. Dad had insisted that I didn’t need to do this stuff, but it was no big deal for me to take care of it. Besides he had the cleaning lady doing everything else.
It kept me busy and took my mind off my worries. Of course I thought of ‘him’ all that day and into the night as well.
Would he be there tomorrow? My stupid heart raced at the thought of seeing him again in the flesh. My dreams were pretty much taken care of, because I’ve been meeting him there, more and more since coming here.
I wish he could be more like his dream self in real life. In my dreams he’s always there, like a protector and shield, keeping everyone and everything away.
In my dreams, though there’s a sense of dread, I always know he’ll keep me safe. In my dreams, that sense of knowing is stronger too, and I feel closer to him there, than I do with most people in the flesh.
I still wonder at the anomaly of meeting him in the flesh after seeing his face so often in my sleep.
There was nothing to explain the strange phenomena, except that maybe it was some kind of premonition, but of what?
I knew I wouldn’t get any answers unless he told me and somehow I was sure that he had all the answers.
The dream of the night before came crashing back to memory and I had to hold onto the wall as I almost fell to my knees.
How had I forgotten that? I felt my body heat up with the memory of his lips on my flesh, and ran to the mirror in the bathroom.
I pulled back the top of my nightshirt, my breath held in anticipation.
Sure enough there was a mark between my breasts. But how could a dream do that? Then I felt liquid heat gush into my panties at the memory of his hands and fingers on me, in me.
When I caught my breath again, I went back to my inspection of my body.
I could barely make out the mark on the side of my neck from this angle, but I knew it was there and so did my body.
I touched it with the tip of a finger and felt that strange wind against my nape, right before my knees went weak and my body betrayed me, with a sudden quivering between my thighs.
My body twitched and I held onto the sink for support with one hand, while the other went to my crotch. I think I lost consciousness, because I awakened on the floor of the bathroom, drenched in sweat.
What was happening to me? Was I losing my mind? Was I like Anna? I felt traitorous at the thought, but I had long suspected that mom was a little not quite there.
There were times in the past when she’d acted or said things that didn’t quite make any sense. Like when she’d wake up in the middle of the night screaming about the monster that was going to get me.
Always after one of those dreams we’d move, and she’d keep me locked away in a motel room somewhere with the blinds drawn and the lights off.
Those were the times when my dreams were their most comforting. As if he always knew when I needed him most.
Something about that tickled at the edges of my mind, but whatever it was eluded me. I got up off the floor and closed my nightshirt after one last look as his passion.
I washed my face off to cool myself down, and went back to what I had been doing, my mind now in turmoil.
I had so many questions, but nowhere to seek the answers. I’d stopped telling mom about my dreams years ago since they seemed to freak her out so much.
And there was no way I could bring them up to Thorn; he’d probably think I was more of a freak than I already am.
But there was definitely something going on. How else could I explain the marks on my body, or the lingering feelings whenever I touched one of them?
The more I prodded the surer I became that there was some sort of connection between us, had to be, but what? I had no knowledge of him outside of my dreams, until now.