I'm running through an endless hall, with a door that moves along at my pace. A black shadow is chasing me. I turn around and try to get a glimpse at its face. It's still too far away to see. I'm running as fast as I can. The shadow is faster than I am. It's approaching to me, slowly, yet surely. I look back to see that it's a dense sheet of mist. This is the farthest this dream has ever gotten. I turn around one final time. It was right next to me! I shriek as it approaches closer and closer, both of us knowing that I have no chance to escape. I see a shadow of a hand reach for me, but everything disappears. I wake up gasping for breath. Sweat is pouring down my face. I'm shaking really bad. I've had this dream a lot. Always running down a never ending hall with a door that seems to move at my pace.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! My alarm startles me. I punch it with force, making it turn off. I read the clock. It's 7:00 in the morning. I moan as I stretch in bed. It had been two months after we had moved to Ohio, and one month since the nightmares have been occurring. They haven't occurred everyday, but they occur frequently. I get up and go down the stairs and into the kitchen. Everyone has already left for work or school. I fix myself a bowl of cereal and leave it on the counter. I walk upstairs real quick to retrieve my phone. I open the locked screen. I see new messages from a couple of friends back in Florida. I close the screen and walk back to the kitchen. I looked for my bowl. It wasn't there. Where was it? I looked throughout the kitchen. I couldn't seem to find it. This was always like me; forgetting where I put items. I look in the next reasonable room where my breakfast could be. I peeked in the dining room. There it was! All set up with everything. I sit down and finish my food. I get up and set my bowl in the sink. I get upstairs and get dressed. I walk past my mirror to see how good I looked. I looked pretty damn fine. I grab my car keys on the nightstand and go to the front door. I lock it and drive away to my school, Cleveland High School. I pull into the "Junior Parking" section and grab my belongings. I head to first period, which was AP Biology.
"Hello, Emily," Mr. Wilkin says to me as I enter.
"Hey, Mr. Wilkin!" I reply.
I grab my seat in the middle of the class. The bell rings. Mr. Wilkin walks to the door and locks his room. He has a policy, like everyone at this school, that if you're late, you aren't allowed to class. The only exception is if you have a pass.
"Hello, class! Take out last night's homework and we'll review," Mr. Wilkin announces.
I take notes on everything that I didn't cover last night, which wasn't very much. I'm typically the girl who makes one of the most exceptional grades throughout my academic experience. After I look up, I see most of the class scratching up notes. I slouch in my seat, for a brief moment. He starts going over the subject as he reviews. This is all easy for me. I think I just understand things more easily than others, I guess. Right in the middle of his lecture, the bell rings.
"Ahh! Alright, class. I guess you're free from my homework for a whole week!"
It was true, Thanksgiving break was beginning tomorrow. I walk down the hall to my locker. I throw my Biology book in it and grab my Spanish 2 textbook and my AP Government & Politics textbook. I walk to the end of the hall and out of the building. I walk to the adjacent building and through my Spanish classroom door.
"Hola, Emily," Mrs. Broyles says.
"Hola, Senora Broyles!" I reply.
I sit in my seat. I take out my textbook and review homework from last night. I'm decently fluent. I could carry a conversation with someone who is of Hispanic heritage.
"Hola, clase," Mrs. Broyles announces as she locks the door. "Como fue la tarea?" She asks. That translated to, "How was homework?" The class was filled with, "Muy bueno," and, "Era facil."
She starts to review for the upcoming test in two weeks. All of her lessons are pretty basic. You just have to study some and you should have no problem getting an A in her class. Students raise their hands and ask questions. After Mrs. Broyles answers a question, the bell rings.
"Esta campana muda me pone cada vez!" Mrs. Broyles says. "See you guys in a week!"
I walk to my locker and throw my textbooks in it. I take my English textbook. I walk over to my Journalism class. I was really surprised that they had accepted me so late. Usually, they fill the class up with the best applicants. I had been in Journalism for two years in middle school, and two years in high school. I was working on my third year, but then we moved. I guess that the adviser thought that I would be a really good addition to the staff. I walk into the computer lab and sit to my assigned computer. I'm not very familiar with students around school, so I use the staff to help me when I need to write a caption and tag the student. I go to the website and log in to Cleveland High's setup. I put in some pictures that I had taken the week before. I got a few members of the staff to help me with tagging people. Right after I wrap everything off and log off of the computer, the bell rings. I take my things and walk to my English class.
"Hey, Emily!" Mrs. Kurnick says.
"Hi, Mrs. Kurnick," I reply.
"How was your weekend?" She asks.
"The usual; just hanging around the house," I reply.
I hand her my essay on the English language rules. It was quite boring. I sit at my seat and take out my textbook.
"Alright guys, turn to page 232," Mrs. Kurnick says.
She goes on and on about the English language and its rules. I watch as heads fall down of drowsiness, one by one. As I am about to be counted as one of the dreamers, the bell startles everyone awake.
"So with that, class, enjoy your Autumn break!"
I drop my things off at my locker and pick up my final textbook: U.S History. I walk across campus and into Mr. Latimer's classroom. We don't get along at all. I've never liked him since the moment I stepped foot in that wretched man's class.
"Alright class, we will not be needing to open up the textbooks today. We are going to have fun!" Mr. Latimer says.
The class roars in excitement.
"We're going to learn about Thanksgiving and all that good stuff," He continues.
The class suddenly turns into the dull, usual class. I belch a chuckle.
"Lavender!" Mr. Latimer calls out my last name.
"Is there a problem?" I ask him.
"In fact, there is. Why do act so arrogant in my classroom?"
"How am I being arrogant? All I did was giggle at how you're such a mood changer," I snap at him.
"A mood changer, am I?" He asks me.
"Yes, a mood changer! You get people excited, then you just kick them in the butt with education on the day before Fall Break!" I tell him.
"I will not tolerate your attitude, young lady. Settle down or I will send you to the Dean!" He hollers.
"Whatever," I mutter.
He goes on and on about myths, Pilgrims, and Indians. After what seemed to be forever, the bell rings.
"Okay, you are all dismissed," Mr. Latimer says.
I'm the first one to leave his class. I drop everything off at my locker and pick nothing up since I have no homework over the break. I drive home. I enter the warmth of my home and go to my room. I fling myself on the bed after I tiring day of school. Fall Break! I get a whole week to myself! I read the clock. It's 4:00. My family should be home any time. I walk downstairs and watch some television. There's a loud bang in the kitchen.
"Hello?" I call out.
Nothing answers back. I thought that maybe someone had gotten home. I guessed wrong. I walk in the kitchen to see what had happened. There jut seemed something off about the room. I couldn't quite lay my finger on it. I walk back to the living room and plop onto the couch. Another bang sounds. I rush back to the kitchen.
"Hello?" I call out.
Still nothing. I look for any signs of change. I still couldn't find it. I turn around and slip. I squeal a little as I hit the tile floor. I moan as I get up. I looked down. There was water, with a little red in it. I check myself for any scratches. I spot a cut on my lip. I must have scratched it with my tooth when I hit the floor. It seemed a bit odd, because I don't remember hitting my face, not hard at least. I hadn't even noticed that there was water on the floor. I go through the cabinets and find the first aid box. I get some antibacterial cream to clean my cut. I mop up the floor. My family enters through the front door.
"Hey, Emily," Mom says.
"Hey, Mom. What's for dinner?" I reply.
"Probably some lasagna," she says.
"Sounds good," I tell her.
I run upstairs, past Luke and Dad. I get undressed and bathe. I find myself in and out of sleep in the bathtub. I dunk my head under the hot water to wake myself up some more. I force myself out of the tub. I get dressed in my pajamas and head downstairs for dinner. I take the route through the living room, not daring to go into the kitchen again, and sit down at the dining room table. Mom dishes out food and I take down everything fairly easily. I put my plate in the sink and walk upstairs to my bedroom. Then I crawl into bed until I fall asleep yet again.
