Awakening
By Dubchick
Chapter One: Awakening
Ahhhhhhhhhhh!
A screaming shriek pierced my ears.
Sitting bolt upright in bed, my hand extended, reaching for her, I gasped in the dry, warm air of the room, but she was gone. Desperation mingled with fear as my fingers found nothing but air. Then the sudden realization of my true situation washed over me as my wide eyes focused. Beads of sweat trickled down my terrified face as the dimly lit room replacing the frozen darkness of the forest.
A nightmare!
Another nightmare, but always the same ending. My tight shoulders sagged as the information seep through my brain. My eyes swept the familiar space; the desk strewn with papers and a small green light shining out from my laptop, the deep lounge chair stacked high with darkened clothes, the large chest of draws with each draw half open, t-shirts and sock sticking out. The full length mirror that I'd brought with me blackened by the night, and the new pine wardrobe that was more like an ornament than a useful item of furniture. My surroundings comforted me, helping distinguish reality from imagined horror. These dreams where coming too often, and where too real. They started a few months ago, about the same time as my move here, or maybe a little earlier, I couldn't quite remember in my dazed state. At first they were fleeting, mixed up in the other outlandish images that filled my head each night, but unlike all my other dreams these where reoccurring. Each new one coming with more detail, more sounds, more feelings, and more horror. This latest reincarnation was the worst one yet. Her scream turned my blood cold, like I was actually there watching the scene in the woods. I could feel her terror, but I couldn't do anything about it. I so desperately wanted to help her, to protect her, but what could I do? It was a dream, and even though it felt so real I knew I couldn't do anything to save her.
'Just a nightmare. Not real. Just a nightmare.' My breathing began to slow as I silently repeated my mantra. Taking in another deep soothing breath I sank slowly back into the bed, a shudder shooting up my back as the sweat covered cold sheets touched my bare arms, reminding me of the bitter cold of the forest. I turned over onto my side, and tucked myself into a fatal position, pulling the covers around me as another shudder swept along my spin. My mind was still full of her final chilling scream, but the warmth of the bed began to build, soothing me, relaxing me, pushing the sound away. Her shrill pleading shriek got steadily quieter in my ears as my pulse continued to slow, eventually returning to normal, as I took control of my frantic breathing. My heart seemed to fight against the slow lingering breaths that I fought to sustain. The silence of the darkened room still didn't make me feel completely safe, my wide eyes still searching for unseen dangers as my tied mind played tricks on me, momentarily seeing things amongst the shadows. The warmth of the bed started to over take my mine. My eyes grew heavy, my breathing shallowed and I drifted back into a deep, dreamless sleep.
'Come on Tilley, Mum says you'll be late for college!' A loud shout came from outside the bedroom door, waking me with a start.
The light was streaming though the window, the curtains already opened some time
earlier in an attempt to rouse me from my sleep. I groaned, pulling the duvet over my head, eyes still tightly shut, willing the day to stay away. Surely it can't be that time already! I felt exhausted, the nightmare steeling any quality that the time sleeping had tried to offer, and the final part of the night not long enough for the quality to take affect.
In defeat I rolled onto by back, kicking the duvet off with my heavy, tied feet at the same time. Groaned again I swung my legs off the side of the - oh so comfortable bed - and stood with a jerky movement, my eyes still tightly closed. My stomach gurgled in the most uncomfortable way, not from hunger, defiantly not hunger! My feet dragged me in the direction of the door way, and the loud clanking of plates and cup coming from down stairs. I moved slowly, my body too tied to even try to work properly.
'Ouch!' I screamed, instantly opening my eyes, and squinting against the bright light that filled the room from the window behind me. Hopping up and down, I grabbed my throbbing toe with one hand and the arm of the offending chair with the other. The jolt of pain was excruciating, my small toe had glancing off the chair leg with more force than I though I had mustered. 'Stupid chair!' I spat out as the pile of clean washing, pilled high on top, still waiting for me to put away, toppled and landed like a sea of clothes in front of me.
I exhaled, 'Great start to the day.' I grumbled through gritted teeth still gripping my toe tightly in an attempt to dull the pain. Then limped off, through my bedroom doorway towards the bathroom, complaining as I went. After teetering on one foot to wash, dress and a little bit of tiding my room - which equated to pushing most of the clothes and any other mess under my bed - I limped down the stairs to the kitchen.
The narrow kitchen, brightly lit by the early autumn sun streaming in through the small window above the sink, was filled with the usual faces. I suppose now my family, but it was still hard to think of them in that way. They were little more than strangers, acquaintances at best. I knew the faces from Grans house, but would escape up into my room each time they visited. But that was in the past, now I was living with them twenty-four/seven, and it was something I was trying very hard to get used to.
Bill sat in his usual seat, at the head of the yellow topped kitchen table, his chair almost touching the units at the far end of the kitchen, drinking coffee from his usual blue china mug, reading the morning paper. His glasses pulled to the end of his broad noise, with his silvery grey hair, and the few remnants of brown that clung to the back of his neck, combed neatly to one side. Maggie in her navy work suit fussed over Emily, trying to get the twelve year old to eat her breakfast before the school bus arrived, as was the usual pattern in the mornings. Emily, now back at the table, sat opposite Bill, pushing with her spoon at the brown chocolaty glob that sat in her breakfast bowl. Her head resting on her hand, looking away from me, unable to see her expression, but I could guess the, leave-me-alone, look on her face. Her long auburn hair pulled back into a long plat. Her burgundy school uniform immaculately pressed, her blazer hanging on the back of her chair. Maggie rushed around the kitchen, putting things in two lunch bags, one for Emily, one for me.
I dropped my bag and jacket at the kitchen door. As I entered the room Maggie looked up.
'Morning! You decided to make an appearance then.' She teased walking around the table towards me. She was always smiling, always happy, unlike Bill who could be quite distant, rude even. Maggie picked her way past the back of Emily's chair, squeezing through the small space between it and the units that ran along the three walls. She raised her arm, putting her hand at the back of my head, pulling my face forward and down to kiss me lightly on the forehead. She'd done this nearly every morning, as far as I could remember, since I came to live with them in the small coastal town of Fraddon, some three months ago. In the beginning I didn't much want or encourage it, but now I didn't mind so much, it was familiar and reassuring. Her perfume wafted around her and up my nostrils as my face almost collided with her collar bone as she hugged me in. Her same auburn hair - the same colour but much shorter than Emily's - tickled against my nose.
'What would you like for breakfast?' she asked still smiling, turning, and making her way back around the table.
'Oh that's OK. I'll do it', I said rubbing away the tickle with the back of my hand.
'No, that's fine. I'll get you something. We'll just get in each other way.'
She was right. The room was small, the table too big for the space, and with everyone in there it made moving around difficult.
'Oh. Um, just coffee please.' I replied hesitantly taking my seat at the table, between the already seated pair. Bill looked up as I sat down, no reaction in his face. I smiled weekly, and looked back to Maggie as she spoke.
'Nothing to eat?' She stopped, looking up from where she was bent over looking in one of the kitchen draws.
I pulled up my nose like I could smell something bad and shook my head.
'No, not hungry. Didn't sleep too well and it's left me feeling a little… sick.'
Just hearing the word affected my stomach in a way that was not good.
Emily looked at me too now and I could see Bill, out of the corner of my eye, look up eying me with a curious expression.
'Are you OK?' Maggie voice was concerned, 'Stay home today if you're not up to going in.'
'I'll be fine', I replied shrugging my shoulder, 'just a bad dream.' The words didn't do the horribly nightmare justice, but I didn't want to worry her with my over active imagination.
'Is that what the screaming was about?' Emily asked her eyes glinting with sudden curiosity.
'Screaming!' Maggie echoed, panic in her voice.
So the scream had been me, not just the woman in my nightmare.
'I, I ….' I stumbled to say just as the door bell rang. My head swung around towards the ding-dong of the chime with a little bit of relief. 'There's Anna. I've got to go'. I said hastily. Saved by the bell, literally, phew!
I got up and started for the door, grabbing my bag and jacket as I went.
'What about your coffee?' Maggie called after me.
'I'll get something there. Bye!'
'Hey, your lunch', Maggie grabbed the bag from the counter, rushing around Emily to where I'd stopped in the doorway.
I took it giving her a reassuring smile. 'Thanks.' Turned and headed for the door before she could start to fuss.
Anna's distorted figure stood motionless in the obscured glass of the front door. I opened it wide; Anna was standing with her back to me, looking out over the small, pretty garden and onto the bright street beyond. She whirled around, a surprised look on her face as she warily eyed me up and down.
'Don't tell me you're actually ready!' she exclaimed, a small smile drifting across her lips and ending in a smirk at the corner of her mouth.
Punctuality wasn't my forte, though I did try - every day.
Her long golden blonde hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves. Her emerald green jacket matched her eyes exactly making them 'pop' in a way that my brown dull as dish water eyes could only ever dream about. She hadn't fully grown into her beauty yet, but when she did she would make the guys swoon in a way I could only imagine, and they swooned enough already! Her mom wanted to put her into beauty pageants since she was a small child, but she'd resisted out of pride rather than vanity.
'Yep for once, I'm on time, don't get used to it though!' I smiled playfully back, closing the door behind me.
Though the street looked warm, as the sun streaming down from the cloudless blue sky, an autumn nip was in the air that made me shiver, bringing back the memory of the shivering women in my nightmare. I pulled on my rather worn, denim jacket and tried to push the image away as my stomach reacted again. I slipped it on cringing against the cold fabric, waiting for my body heat to warm it up and in turn it to warm me up.
'Sorry about this Tills, but Mums taking us today.' Anna's expression was instantly glum, her eyes to the floor. Then her eyes quickly flashed up to look at the large navy blue Mercedes that waited at the curb in front of my house. The car almost silently ticked over, whilst Anna's mother checked her make-up in the driver's seat mirror.
'Dads taken my car with him, it needs some work. So I'm car-less until Friday evening when he gets back from the city.' She sounded mortified, like he'd taken away a vital part of her body for spite rather than care.
I glanced at the car. The familiar face of Anna's mum now looking back at us from the driver's side.
'Hi Mrs Withers', I said opening the back door, and slid into the leather interior, the heaters gently blowing warm air around my ankles.
'Hello Tilley.' Mrs Wither sang out, 'How are you?'
'Fine thanks. You?' I smiled back politely.
'Oh I'm alright Tilley. Thank you for asking, just playing chauffeur today, and the rest of the week from the sounds of it.' She smiled warmly, twisting her body around so she was looking at me in the back of the spotless car.
Anna groaned from the front passenger seat. Mrs Withers turned to Anna to see her disapproving expression.
'I only do it to embarrass her!' Mrs Withers said with a grin, twisting back towards me, as if it was our private little joke.
I smirked, but felt a little uncomfortable, like my smirk was a betrayal to Anna.
We arrived at college, my educational home for the past few weeks. The large grey stone exterior, with its glass double entrance doors quiet for the moment. The three mile drive to college that was located just outside of Fraddon in the large, relatively cosmopolitan City of Lancaster, had been frostier than the temperature in my dream last night. Despite the uncomfortable atmosphere of the car I wasn't relieved to see the building, my work wasn't going well and I wasn't anxious to start where I'd left off on Friday afternoon, despite my looming dead line. My hasty escape this morning would make me early for class, a rarity for me as I had never been good at getting up in the mornings, let alone making anything on time. I said my goodbyes to Anna, and made my way through the main college towards the glass connecting corridor, then down another long corridor to the art department.
The studio was quiet and motionless. The first room, the sculpture department, deserted for the moment, was a large dusty space. Natural light flooded the room from the large skylights up high in the ceiling. Around the room stood motionless potter wheels, plinths with sculptures in various stages of development, and well used tools stood silently waiting for the life to return to the room, and that wouldn't be too long. I looked at my wrist to see the time, but in my haste this morning I'd forgotten to put on my watch. I walked through the room to the far side, where the door to the next studio stood open and walked through, my foot steps strangely loud in the silence. Still feeling unwell I strode to my small area of the studio, in the far corner of the second room. My area was pushed into a recess that looked like it may have been a storage cupboard some time before, but knocked through now in a bid to squeeze in more bodies into the ever shrinking room. My space was packed with easels, a desk, a chair and personal junk, but it was perfect. I was all by myself, away from the majority of the chattering gossip of the other students. I liked it that way. I was friendly when I needed to be, but I liked the solitude. It wasn't that I wasn't friendly, I just valued my privacy, and when you find it hard to trust people, friendships are hard work. When I was here, hidden in my quiet corner I could be me, free to express myself in a way that felt comfortable. This was a place I could create and escape the mundane, to a place of my imagination.
My large canvas stood on two low easels, spanned across them as the canvas was too large to successfully rest on just one. Bright colours; orange, gold, and red almost covering the white background, my work in progress - though the progress was slow in coming. It could have been the equivalent to a writers block, but I think it was more like my heart just wasn't in it. Various pictures and sketches were stuck to the wall behind where the easels stood. A print of Klints: The Kiss, central to the jumble. The images were supposed to evoke a mood, an emotions, a sense of what I was trying to capture in the oil painting in front of me. But it wasn't working, at least not up until last Friday. Hopefully I'd have more luck this week, even divine inspiration if I could get it, anything but nothingness.
My old wooded desk, scratched and gouged, well worn with students that had gone before me, was strewn with paint tubes, brushes, pencils and more sketches. The smell of linseed oil, white spirit and oil paint all mixed together hitting my nostrils and attacking down to the pit of my stomach. But a small groaning in my empty stomach was winning out over the subsiding sickly feeling. I threw my bag and jacket onto the clearest spot on my desk and pulling open my lunch bag. I grimaced. Nothing in there was light enough for a delicate stomach, sandwiches, crisps, fruit cake! I tossed the bag over the desk, landing next to my other belongings and turned to make my way to the canteen, maybe coffee would be just the right sort of medicine.
'Ah, Miss Waters, nice to see you so early…..' Mr Bram was standing in front of me as I turned around. He was the art department head, a tall man, spindly, who looked a bit too formal in comparison with the other lecture's in the department. He always wore a suit, ash grey, the same colour as his skin, with a darker pin strip, clean shaven, black short lank haired, with allot of grey leeching through, especially at his temples, and usually greasy. The worst thing about him was his manner, so abrupt and sly! I never felt as comfortable with him as I felt with the other staff members.
'Not leaving so soon I hope?' The slyness was even in his voice.
I'd had my run-ins with him, usually about my time management, or lack of it!
I smiled weakly only catching his eye for a second, then looking behind him to the open door.
'Just need a coffee to start the day.' I spoke as cheerfully as I could; he always made me feel like I was doing sometime wrong.
'Well don't take too long; don't want to be late…'
I smiled again and dodged around him just as he finished talking, '…again!'
My eyes rolled and a silent sight escaped my lips as I walked back through the open doorway. I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull, but I didn't turn to look.
The canteen was deserted apart from a group of kids sat at one of the tables talking loudly, something about last night's game. At another table three girls sat with their back to the entrance, turning as I entered, though I would have recognized them anyway. They were all part of the art department. The Barbie girls, Anna and I had dubbed them as they usually always wore pink. Not that there's anything wrong with pink, but every day, in every items of clothing, jewellery, shoes, make-up! The blond - Sarah Andrews, short and slender. The brunette- Sam Turner, tall, olive skinned, beautiful and she knew it. And in the center, the ring leader, and queen of her own universe Rachel Pullen. A model-esc girl, tall, short blond hair, but with a narrow cruel face. They turned back into their huddle, a low whisper, then an eruption of laughter as they all turned back to look in my direction. I didn't have the time or the stomach for their juvenile behavior today.
I carried on, pretending not to notice and walked deeper into the large room. All the shutters where down at the food counter, the room dim in comparison to its usual bright, vibrant atmosphere of the lunch time rush. I strode over to the vending machine on the back wall, shoved my hand into the back pocket of my denim mini skirt and pulled out various silver and bronze coins. My finger traced down the buttons of the dispenser until I came to coffee - white.
'No! This is so not my day', I though to myself.
The button was red indicating the coffee was empty. I looked down the list again, hot chocolate; not good for a jippie tummy! Black coffee. Yuk! White tea. I begrudgingly pushed the button. The cup slopped out the bottom and the steaming liquid poured in. I picked it up and held it under my nose. It didn't give me the same satisfaction coffee would have, but it would have to do. The three girls glared at me as I walked back out of the room, but I was too interested in the hot tea to even begin to care. Though I did feel a rush of embarrassment tinge my skin, as a boy from the other table wolf whistled after me as I disappeared out the door. A secrete smile rose over my lips on the way back down the corridor. I wasn't used to the attention.
Back in the studio, now filling with the other students talking and preparing, I picked up the artists knife and started to prepare colours for my once white, plastic pallet, sipping the tea now and then, the hot liquid quickly steadying my stomach. As I worked, the low murmur of talking, laughing, and banging of hammer against chisel coming from the other studio, fell into the back ground. I tried to lose myself in my work, applying colours, scrutinizing my sketches, waiting for inspiration, even the divine kind. Time passed relatively quickly, but not allot of actual work got done. Instead I'd tried going over sketch books and the myriad of images that were stuck to the wall behind the canvas.
In time students drifted out of the studio until only a few other and myself where left.
'Hey, Tilley', a voice came from behind me, 'half day today remember.'
I spun around to see Anna grinning at me from the door way.
'Oh yeah, let me just finish up here. Won't be a moment.' Usually it was a Wednesday that was a half day, personal study time supposedly for the rest of the day, not that anyone did. But this week it had changed to Monday, some big meeting with all staff. I grabbed a plastic bag, pushing the little used pallet of colours in and twisting closed the open end. Shoved the brushes and knife into a glass of white spirit that was always ready on my desk, picked up my stuff, took a last look at my mornings work, and walked towards Anna waiting at the opposite side of the desk,
'It's looking good Tilley. Very dramatic!' She pulled a sarcastically serious face.
I automatically looked back at the painting, 'Thanks, still a lot to do, but its coming on.' No need to bore her with my 'writers block'!
'You OK?' She said studying my face, 'You up to eating, you look really white?'
My stomach was now best part recovered and I'd been feeling the weak hunger pangs for a while.
'Yeah, didn't get enough sleep last night, and missed breakfast, but I'm starved now. Let's get something to eat, but not on campus. Let's go to the Dallas Diner.'
'Sure.' Anna was always up for the off campus rout. The food in the college left a lot to be desired.
As we walked through the first studio it now quiet again. I threw my packed lunch at the big black bin just inside the studio entrance.
'Wouldn't be needing that then.' I muttered to myself.
The diner was full. Everyone came here. It had good food at cheap prices. A good combination for a poverty stricken student. The money I did have went on the essentials: canvases, paints and library fines! The bell on the diner door rang as we stepped through. A man near the entrance glanced up as we entered but went back to his book just as quickly. Tables were laid out uniformly; jutting out from the widows of the 'L' shaped room. A bit like an American diner in the old films, as the establishments name suggested, with tall stools around the long expanse of counter at the opposite side of the room. The smell of fried food, coffee and pastries was over whelming. My stomach growled ferociously as we squeezed onto the end of the already full counter, the red padded stools still warm from the last inhabitants. The waitress hurried over towards us.
'I'll be with you in one minute girls, OK?'
We both looked up smiling at her.
'OK' Anna and I replied in unison.
The short, thickly set woman, reminded me of the waitress out of the film Grease, with her red and white striped uniform, grey curly hair complete with a little hat, but her thick Welsh accent shattered the illusion. She threw a menu on the counter in front of us, and hurried back down the other side of the counters shouting something I couldn't make out.
Picking at my salad, I had aired on the side of caution as the last faint reminders of my delicate stomach lingered. Pushing as a tomato I silently pondered my morning's lack of work. Abruptly my mind changed to the nightmare of last night. It disturbed me again, the images that filled my mind, the sound of the shrill scream that I could still recall with precise clarity.
I felt a chill run down my spin, the night air was cool, almost frosty; but she wasn't aware of it, the fire of her fears raged against it. Her legs felt heavy, her heart beat hard against her chest. Exhaustion, coupled with desperation filled her head, but she had to keep moving. The black of the night, with its dimly lit moon, concealed behind the slowly moving clouds, were the only real cover she had. This didn't feel safe either, as it hide the darkened figure too. She crouched in the dark next to a large tree, waiting to hear something, anything that would give his proximity away.
A crack of a twig to her right.
Her head spun in response, her eyes straining to see anything against the shadows that moved with the passing clouds above the canopy of forest. The blood pounded behind her ears now making any clear recognition of sound almost impossible to pick up. She moved quickly and silently away from the direction of the sound, still listening for further signs of his approach. Then, another sharp echoing crunch from behind her. She crouched instantly, her eyes searching through the thick darkness. She gripped the trunk of a tree for support, and winced at the cold, she felt it now. Another sound. So close. She swallowed low as a glint of something icy blue told her he was just yards away. Her eyes began to burn like fire, and the relief of the tears that fell made it impossible to see.
Then another spine tingling noise from behind her. He was closing in, cornering her. A whoosh of air escaping from her lips. She turned and ran, stumbling over uneven ground, tripping over crags in the forest floor, not seeing where she was going, fear and desperation fueling her flight. Her foot caught something unseen and lurched forward, her hands finding a fallen tree trunk as she fell towards the frozen littered ground. Fighting to stay upright, she pushed against the cold bark. Another loud crack from too close behind her. She twisted her whole body around, her spine pushing hard into the solid, dead, invisible timber. A loud piercing sobbing scream rose up from her chest and escaped her lips as her eyes widened, now clear with horror at the ice blue lights that hover in the frigid night air. She filled my view as her hand reached out and…
A girl squealed somewhere in the diner, followed by thunderous laughter from a group of boys gathered on the other side of the room. I jumped so hard I nearly fell of the stool, and had to grab the counter to stay upright.
'Wow' Anna puffed. 'You alright?'
'Yes, just caught me by surprise. It's not been the best day so far.' I replied, the throb of my toe still lingering inside my converse.
Anna frowned. 'Why, what happened?'
I waved my hand dismissively. 'So many things, but the worst,' I hesitated, looking her in the face and bit my lip. 'I had that dream again; the one with the woman running in the forest, but it was even more vivid this time. It's just left me a bit…' I shrugged, '...shaken.'
'Have you told Maggie yet?' You could hear the concern in her voice.
'No, she doesn't need this. She's got enough on her plate what with Emily and Bill and Gran in the nursing home. She doesn't need to think I'm off my rocker too!' I laughed a little at that. Anna gave a little laugh too. But truth be told I didn't want to tell her.
'If there's anything I can do…would it help to talk or….? '
I spoke before she could finish. 'It's really not that major, don't worry about it. I'll be fine.' I tried to smile, didn't want her to think I was crazy either!
I was used to dealing with things myself. Anna was the only really friend I'd ever had, apart from Gran, but that had all changed since…. I didn't want to think about it. Trusting people was something else I wasn't good at. My parents died years ago, and though Gran did her best, the fact that she was always so wary of people, all people, it kind of rubbed off on me. I'd been a loner all the way through school, kept to myself.
'People don't need to know the ins and outs of our life', Gran used to say. 'Our lives are a need to know basis.' Then she'd smile, but she really did think that way. Sometimes the way she was you would have been forgiven in thinking she was an army brat. With her regimental way, her sense of order, of privacy, almost secretive, and the way she never trusted anyone, not even the post man. The way we lived too, not staying in one place for too long, but never moving so far that we weren't close enough for Maggie to visit. But this made it hard to form friends, and if I did Gran's strange ways usually scared them off.
But with Anna it was different. For a start Gran wasn't around to give her opinion. Anna kind of pushed my buttons from the moment she had sat next to me on the induction day, but in a nice way. She was easy to talk to, always so eager to take me under her wing. At first it had intrigued me; she was so beautiful, popular and nice with it. Girls in school, if they where pretty and popular, weren't the kind of people you wanted to get on the bad side of. So I tended to stay out of there way, fly under the radar.
A hand pushed between Anna and me. She was just the type of girl I'd been thinking about, or at least a 'crone' of one of them. Sam Turner, one of Rachel Pullen's minions.
'I need the salt', she said with an acidic tone, not looking at either Anna or myself.
'Oh, and Rachel wanted me to tell you.' she said pulling away, salt shaker in hand, now looking directly at me. 'There was an 'incident' in the studio; your painting got knocked over...' She said the acid still noticeable in her tone, mixed with an unveiled layer of sarcasm on the last word. 'Sorry.'
'And you owe me for the dry cleaning bill too!' The second voice came from behind us. I turned towards its direction, the realization hitting me like a fist to the face. The shock and overwhelming devastation, churned in my suddenly nauseous stomach again. All my work, all my time, all my effort - wasted. My mind span in rotations, the nauseous feeling rising in my throat.
Rachel had the smuggest expression on her face, a half smile fluttered across her lips. The group of girls, all Barbie doll all three of them, suddenly erupted into high pitched laughter, all cackling in my direction.
My thoughts were wild. My eyes staring at the black tiled floor, shooting from one side to the other trying to make sense of the impossible news, seeing nothing, hearing the muffled laughter through my muffled thoughts. I could feel my hand ball into a fist, my teeth clench, the tears just waiting to fall. I slowly rose from my seat.
Anna caught my left wrist.
'Tilley, she's not worth it,' she whispered close to my ear, trying to pull me back down into my seat.
My head slowly turned. My eyes wide and wild as I gazed numbly at her pleading face and dragged in two big breaths of air, as I looked back towards the cackling girls, then back to Anna. I hesitated for a moment looking at Anna's still pleading eyes, my heart sinking as I grabbed my stuff, and stormed away from the now excruciating sound. My heart pounded in my ears, every eye in the dinner was on me as I pushed through the thick layer of bodies, fighting my way to the exit. It felt like wading through treacle. I thought it was going to last forever.
Eventually I made it out onto the street and started running. Tears filling my eyes making me half blind. My mind reeled. I just wanted to get away, away from the disbelief, the devastation I felt in the pit of my aching stomach. I kept on running without thinking. I could vaguely hear Anna calling after me, but I couldn't stop. It was like a dream, no, a nightmare. Everything went into slow motion.
The sound of screeching tires.
A shout.
A scream.
The large dark car hurtling straight towards me.
A gush of air escaping from my lips.
Shock.
Panic.
My scream.
Another gush of air, but not from me.
Then blackness, silence.
It seemed to last for a long time. Like being lost in a big dark hole that you can't get out of. Like a vacuum in space, the blackness went on forever, no glimmers of light anywhere.
Then a sense of flying through the air, but in the wrong direction, to the side, not propelled backwards from the car, but somewhere and by something else, something tight around my waste.
My mind couldn't make sense of it, but I couldn't open my eyes either.
I was twirling round in slow motion circles. Lost in a sea of blackness, with just the sensation of being held to tell me I wasn't alone.
I hit the ground still in unreal time, or so it felt. Another gush of air, but this time coming out of my mouth as I hit the floor, my head jerking backwards.
Then real time took over.
I realized my eyes where shut tight. Screwed up, afraid to open them. Maybe I was dead. Maybe the flying was my journey to the heavens, but would I land so hard on a cloud? Maybe it wasn't heaven at all, that's why my body hurt so much.
'Are you alright? Are you hurt?' Came a steady, low, but beautiful voice.
It was at my left ear, the cool breath flowing over my neck.
My eyes opened slowly, and my face was already turned in the direction of the sound.
First I saw his eyes. Blue, as deep as an ocean, soft as velvet, like tanzanite jewels sparking in the sun light. They swept over my face for a reaction, glancing over my body for a visual answer to the question. I watched them move, unable to break their hypnotic spell. Then they flicked back to mine, my embarrassment breaking their hold on me.
My eyes moved down, over his strong cheek bones, down past his nose, down to his lips, full and rich, and moving.
'Are you alright,' he said again, his voice as velvet as his eyes. Then his volume dropped like he was talking to himself. 'Please be alright.'
I moved my lips in response, nothing came out. I swallowed deeply, mentally checking for any sign of pain. I shook my head slowly. It was all I could manage.
His eyes washed with relief.
'Can you stand?'
I nodded.
As I began to move his right hand moved back around my waist, his other hand taking mine. His hand felt as soft as satin next to my skin. My hand shook, but not from the burst of adrenaline that flooded through my body from the moment I opened my eyes, but from the strange feeling that started to move through my hand. It wasn't exactly an electric shock, more like a low sustaining hum, a low voltage simmer that tingles at the edge of my fingers, where my hand lightly rested in his palm. My skin didn't do that. It must be coming from him, or maybe just shock. But the feeling increased as I made it to my feet, spreading over the whole of my hand, and the hum grew and warmed. The sensation continued to increase; it started to burn, to hurt. I looked down in shock, frowning as I instantly looked up into his eyes. The confusion on my face grew as I found his eyes were reacting in exactly the same way as mine. His brow furrowed. We stayed that way for one short second, lost in the pulsing fire. The mutual shock freezing us where we stood, and my breathing started to stagger.
Screaming erupted somewhere close. I was grabbed around the neck and dragged sideways. Anna sobbed into my ear, her hair blocking my view. The hand loosened around my waste, the fingers softly tracing along the exposed skin of my back, to the opposite side. The burning subsided in my extended hand as his fingers slipped from mine. I froze again, but he was gone.
Thank you for taking the time to read Chapter 1. I hope you enjoyed it. There's more to come.
Please review what you have just read. This will help me to improve my style.