Time is Subjective

Prologue:

The thunder sounded, and she curled up on the bed. She hated thunderstorms. Every time one rolled into town, something happened, something horrible. The first time that she could remember there being a thunderstorm like this one, her mother had died. She had been walking to her car in the parking lot of the hospital where she had been working the late shift, when a car lost control and hit her. The impact killed her instantly. The last time that there had been a thunderstorm like this one, her father had met a woman. Two months later, her father had married her, and she had turned out to be a monster, a real monster, just like that.

There was a flash of lightning, and she closed her eyes counting to ten. It was a trick her mother had taught her. She should count to ten, and that would tell her how far away the storm was. She counted to five when the thunder rolled in. With every flash of lightning that she could see, there was less time that she counted before the thunder met it. She trembled under the blankets. She didn't want her step-mother to come into the room.

There was a blinding flash of lightning, and she started counting from under her covers, but the thunder never sounded. Slowly, she pulled the covers off from over her head, and looked around. It was still night time, but there was no storm. Her room was different, light and pretty. The walls were pink, with lavender trimming, and there were pictures of her mother and father all around her mirror.

"Krystal, are you in bed?"

Krystal gasped, her eyes filling with tears as she turned to the door. "Mommy?"

She got out of bed slowly, and looked at the door. There was a light knock on the door, before it opened. There she was, her mother standing in the doorway, smiling down at her. Krystal sobbed, and fell to her knees as her legs gave way. Her mother ran to her, and held her in her arms.

"Krystal honey, what's wrong?"

"Mommy! Mommy!" Krystal cried, holding her mother tightly.

"I'm right here, honey, what's wrong?"

The sound of running footsteps raced up the hall, and the in the doorway, Krystal could see her father, looking at them curiously. "What's going on?" he asked, kneeling by them both.

"I don't know, she won't stop crying, or calling me."

"Mommy, mommy, mommy!"

"Sweetie, I'm right here, honey, it's ok."

Her father pried her arms off of her mom, and picked her up. He sat on the bed and sat her down on his knee. "What's going on honey?"

Krystal stared at her mother, and kept crying. Her dad hugged her, and rocked her back and forth, and kissed her temple, the way that he always did. So then why was her mother there? She looked at him curiously, and then at her mother. Had the whole thing been a bad dream? Had her mother never really died? Had it all been just one long nightmare?"

"Krystal, sweetie, are you ok now?" he asked, looking at her.

She sniffled, and nodded. "Yes daddy."

"What happened Krystal?" her mother asked, kneeling down beside her. "Why did you start crying like that?"

"I…you were dead mommy," she answered. "You were in an accident at work in the hospital, and you were dead and daddy married a monster, a real one! She had silver blood and she was mean and a real monster."

"Sweetie, I'm not dead," she smiled, love in her eyes. "You had a nightmare."

"It was so real though," she said, looking at her curiously. "I guess you're right though."

"Now, let's go to bed, because tomorrow is going to be a big day," her dad said. "You're going to that new daycare on the base."

"Daycare on the base?" Krystal furrowed her brow. "Where are we daddy?"

"Jacksonville, baby," he said, now looking worried. "Mommy was stationed here, remember."

"Right," Krystal smiled, and hopped into bed. As her dad tucked her in, and kissed her forehead, she smiled up at them both. They walked out of the room, and Krystal bit her lip. "Except mommy was an nurse, and daddy is a construction worker." Krystal turned on her back and looked up at the ceiling. "What is going on here?"