Shadows moved behind the curtain. They mesmerized Rit, weaving in and out in a circular, ever-changing pattern. Rit couldn't look away, couldn't move, couldn't blink. Her mind was caught in a strange web, like a fly snared in a spider's sticky silk trap. Suddenly, the curtain lit up as the shadows exploded behind it, and a shockwave spread out from the eruption, catching Rit in its grasp and throwing her backward. Everything was travelling in slow motion, and then a flash of light burned a simple design on Rit's retinas, almost obscuring her field of vision. She hit the ground.
Rit sat up in bed, gasping. She blinked a few times, then frowned, shaking her head. The design was still visible when she closed her eyes. What an odd dream, she thought, pushing tendrils of tangled hair out of her face. Rit swung her legs over the edge of the bed and glanced at the clock. It read 7:06 am, blinking green. Just in time, then.
Abruptly, Rit's field of vision went entirely red. Blood rushed to her face and pounded in her ears. She was filled with the most potent rage she'd ever felt, at nothing in particular. The clock happened to be in her way, so she yanked its cord, unplugging it, then threw it at the wall, where the screen shattered in an ear-splitting crash.
Just as quickly as it had come, the anger left her. Rit leaned against the wall, dizzy. What just happened? She asked herself.
"Rit, Rit are you all right in there?" her mother's voice floated through the door. "What happened?"
"The alarm clock fell, Mom. I'm fine."
There was a pause. "Well, all right…" It sounded as if Lily was walking away from Rit's door, back to the dining room.
Rit drew a deep breath. She needed to calm down. A shower would help, wouldn't it? Yes, a shower would help.
The hot water helped focus Rit's mind. As she massaged the citrus shampoo into her long, dark brown hair, she thought about her dream. As an experiment, Rit closed her eyes. The symbol was still there, as clearly defined as when she had first seen it. She would have to remember to check later.
Rit entered the kitchen, dressed in a loose red tank top and faded jeans. As she poured herself a bowl of granola, Lily entered. "Oh, Rit, I do wish you'd wear something other than jeans," she complained. "And can't you do something more interesting with your hair, honey?"
Rit sighed. "Mom, jeans are comfortable. I'm not going anywhere today. And my hair is fine as it is."
"But, honey, braids and plaits are so – so – boring. You'll never get a boy looking like that."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom." Rit grabbed her bowl and walked into the living room, where she stretched out on the couch. Her book was not where she had left it, neatly bookmarked on the corner of the coffee table.
"Mom! Did you move my book?" Rit yelled, not wanting to get up from the couch.
Lily came in, holding her hand over the receiver of the telephone. "What's that, sweetie?"
"My book was sitting right there last night when I went to bed. Did you move it?" Rit repeated.
Lily spoke into the phone. "Yes, sir. Could you please hold on one minute? Thank you." She covered it again. "No, Rit, I don't move your books. I've learned."
Rit twisted and set her bowl down on the coffee table, out of the reach of the dogs. She slowly pulled herself up and made her way into her room.
As she passed the vase on the counter by the oven, the anger came over her again. Rit felt a sudden urge to smash the vase, an overwhelming urge. The next thing she knew, the beautiful vase with its drooping rose was smashed into a billion pieces on the kitchen floor.
"Rit?" Lily ran into the kitchen. She stared at the vase on the floor. "Rit, what are you doing?"
Rit's vision went black as the world swirled into nothingness.
Faces blurred and came into focus above Rit's head, outlined against a bright white surface. "Rit," they were saying. "Rit, can you hear me?"
Rit tried to raise her head, but hands gently pushed her forehead back down. "Stay down, there's a good girl, now," the voices soothed. Rit seethed inside. She hated when adults treated kids like dogs. Sit, Scout, yes, down, no, down, Scout, there's a good boy, here's a treat, yes, good boy, you're such a good boy! It drove her absolutely crazy.
Rit tensed as she remembered blacking out and falling. She remembered the all-consuming anger she'd felt. What had caused it? What if it came back?
Rit felt a slight pinch in her left forearm, and her vision faded into static fuzziness again.
Rit blinked sleep out of her eyes. Now she saw that she was in a hospital bed, with an IV dripping into her arm and all sorts of monitors and machines. A young-looking nurse in a white uniform hurried over. "Good morning, sunshine," she said. Rit rolled her eyes. Another one. The nurse checked a clipboard at the side of the bed. "Looks like we're going to get you out of here today!" she exclaimed brightly. "Isn't that great?"
Rit raised an eyebrow, staring at her. The nurse, oblivious, kept bustling around, straightening blankets and such. "Where's my mom?" Rit asked.
The nurse turned around, as if she was surprised that Rit could talk. She stared blankly for a moment, then remembered. "Oh, yes, she had to go to work. She'll be back later." She smiled brightly again, then rushed out of the white, bare room, closing the door behind her.
Rit sighed. She felt filthy, like her hair hadn't been washed in a week. Why was she even in the hospital? Apparently nobody thought it worthwhile to explain to the patient why she were a patient. She pressed on the button in easy reach by her head. Supposedly, that would bring a nurse.
Sure enough, a nurse appeared, as if she had been summoned by a genie. This one looked more reasonable. She had a nametag reading KENSIE and kind, dark eyes. She came over to the side of the bed.
"How can I help you?" Kensie asked politely.
Rit explained that her mother was at work, she didn't remember anything, and she didn't even know why she was there. Kensie listened attentively, not interrupting.
When the girl was done, Kensie clarified. "You fell down on the broken vase, and one piece cut your head pretty badly." Rit's hand drifted to her forehead, where she was aware of a slight ache. "Then you didn't wake up for four days, and nobody knew why, so they kept you here. Now you're awake, so you can go home."
Rit asked the one question that she had. "Will I have a scar?"
Kensie looked sad. She put a soft hand on Rit's shoulder. "Yes," she said. "You will, running from your left temple to the middle of your hairline."
Rit didn't understand why Kensie looked so forlorn. "Whatever," she said, brushing it off. She didn't care, really. It made her unique.
Suddenly, a look of horror came over Kensie's face. "Excuse me," she said in a rush, "But do you know your father?"
The question seemed a bit odd to Rit, but she didn't see the harm in answering. "No. He died in Afghanistan."
Kensie hurriedly stood up, backing toward the door. "I'll be back," she said. "Just stay here."
As she left and shut the door, Rit called after her. "I can't really go anywhere, you know. You do have security."
Now what? thought Rit.
Sorry, this is my first fanfic, and probably nobody will read it. If you do, please review to let me know you're there! Thanks!