Meg Larsson couldn't sleep.
It should have been easy. The hum of the fan in her window, crickets chirping in the backyard, the gentle rumble of thunder from the edge of the night sky...it was just another peaceful spring night here in Minnesota.
Still Meg tossed and turned. She tried every position she knew of: fetal, face down, feet on the pillow, one leg trailing out of bed...but nothing helped. It was like her mind wouldn't let her drift off.
Unbeknownst to her, Meg's Emotions were also pondering the situation.
Why can't we fall asleep? Joy asked. Today was a good day, wasn't it?
I thought it was, but...maybe not. Maybe something bad happened and we just can't remember it, Sadness murmured.
Disgust shook her head. We probably just forgot something. Did we brush our teeth before we went to bed? Ugh, these braces are so gross.
Of course we brushed! Mom only nagged us about it a hundred times, growled Anger.
I don't get it, Joy trailed his hand over the console and wondered what to do. We can't stay up late tonight. We've got school AND a Prairie Dogs playoff game tomorrow. Maybe recalling a nice memory will help...
Meg found herself thinking back to her 11th birthday several months ago. It was too cold to have the party outside, so she and all her friends went to a movie instead. Her best friend Riley had given her a really cool book about the history of hockey in Minnesota, and they'd stayed up late looking at the pictures.
Meg's eyes drifted across the room. The book still stood proudly on her shelf, but Riley was gone.
Maybe that was the problem. Riley was hundreds of miles away in San Francisco, and they couldn't go to each others' birthday parties anymore. Couldn't go biking together in the summer, or go to Wild games in the winter. Couldn't visit the Hockey Hall of Fame in Eveleth. When they Skyped each other a few days ago, Riley barely had time to talk at all. "I gotta go!" she said, and that was that.
Meg blinked back tears and pulled the pillow over her head, obscuring her bushy red hair.
Now look what you've done, Anger said to Joy. You've got her bummed out about Riley again!
Poor Riley. Nothing's been the same here since she moved away, and she sounded so upset the last time we talked to her, added Sadness.
Fear was getting jittery. Maybe we'll never fall asleep again, she fretted. What if we've got chronic insomnia?!
Disgust snorted. Get a hold of yourself. Do you want to turn Meg into a hypochondriac like Aunt Crystal?
Everyone! Let's just go downstairs and get some warm milk or something, Joy said firmly. That usually does the trick.
Meg picked up her glasses from the nightstand and pulled on her fluffy yellow slippers with the googly-eyes her mother glued on them. She leaned into the hallway to check that her parents' door was closed. Seeing the coast was clear, she tiptoed out to the stairs. A heavy rain had begun to fall outside, drumming insistently on the roof and the windows.
Careful...don't step on the creaky spots, Fear fretted.
Anger was impatient with these precautions. Who cares? It's not like we're committing a crime here.
But you know what a light sleeper Mom is, and Dad gets mad when we wake her up...
Meg quickened her pace at the bottom of the stairs, pausing only to stick her tongue out at the stuffy picture of her great-grandparents on the living room wall before moving on to the kitchen. The milk was in its usual spot in the fridge-behind all the leftovers from tonight's spaghetti dinner. Mom always cooked too much food. She poured herself a mug and stuck it in the microwave for a few minutes, stopping it just before the beep to avoid disturbing her parents.
She was on her way back to the stairs when she heard something at the front door. It wasn't quite a knock-more like a tapping, soft and careful and barely audible over the rain.
A chill began to creep down Meg's spine. Who would be visiting this late at night? And why would they knock so quietly, unless...
Unless they knew we were downstairs to hear them! Fear's teeth began to chatter. What if it's one of those crazy stalkers we hear about on the news?! He could be coming to get us! We should run and wake up Mom and Dad!
The tapping came again, but there was a pattern to it this time: taptaptap, tap, taptap.
Wait a minute, Joy chimed in as Meg's fright turned to curiosity. We know that knock. It's...
It can't be, Disgust said.
The control room went silent. Outside, Meg felt her own heart pounding as she slid back the deadbolt and answered the door.
Her mouth fell open.
Standing on the front steps, out of breath and shivering, was Riley Andersen. Her dark turtleneck shirt and slacks were soaking wet, and she gripped the straps of her blue backpack so hard her knuckles were white. Her eyes had a lost, haunted look to them, and were rimmed with red as though she hadn't been sleeping well.
Meg was rarely at a loss for words, but this was one of those times. It felt like an eternity before she found her voice.
"Riley?" she croaked.
Riley nodded slowly. She forced a weak smile even as tears started to flow.
Meg smiled back and shook her head in disbelief. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?"
Her friend spoke for the first time in a dry, tremulous voice. "Um...it's kind of a long story, Meg. Do you mind if I come in?"
Meg nodded slowly. "Hold on a second, okay? I'll go get you a towel."
She ran to the downstairs bathroom. Her brain screamed all kinds of alarms as she did so.
This is all a weird dream. Pinch yourself and wake up!
How could she even get here from San Francisco? Where are her parents? Did they move back? Why wouldn't she tell me if they did?
Either you're crazy, or Riley is crazy for coming here. Tell Mom and Dad. Call the police!
She shook her head angrily. Those things could wait until later. Right now her best friend needed her help. She grabbed a bath towel from the cupboard and ran as quietly as she could back to the door.
"Here! Let's get you dry and then-" Her voice died off abruptly.
Riley was gone.
Even the water that had dripped from her hair and clothes was no more.