Chapter Three

Jim

I must've hit my head pretty hard.

One second I'm sitting on the beach and it's nighttime and I'm thinking about my past, and the next moment I feel I'm drowning under a boatload of water. I remember these ghostly ladies dragging me, kissing my face, then next second you know it, they're trying to drown me.

I think I was sort of dreaming, because none of this exists. But then, a girl saved me. One with red hair and blue eyes. And when I woke up the next morning, my mom was standing over me, her blue eyes stretched to the widest capacity I'd ever see them go.

I was lying on the beach, my jacket and pants wet and covered in damp sand.

"James Pleiades Hawkins!" she exclaims, throwing her arms up in the air. "What are you doing out here?"

I shake my head. I feel horrible, like I'd been run over. I'm groggy and feel like there are ocean waves splashing about inside my head.

"I dunno, Mom," I say slowly, feeling the side of my head for bumps. But there are none. Only a faint memory of last night.

My mom leans forward, now concerned. "Jim, honey? Are you okay? Do you have a..." she swallowed like she couldn't bear it. "Concussion? Did you hurt yourself last night?"

I felt the back of my head. My mind was wrapped around that girl. The girl with hair like a flame. Her eyes the color of the ocean and as bright as a star. And her voice. Absolutely amazing. She sang like a choir of angels.

"Jim?" Mom takes my arm and helps me up. Immediately I have to sit down again because I have no balance yet.

"Honey, I'm worried about you!" Mom says quietly. "I think I should call a doctor. I'll call Delbert; he'll know what to do!"

"Wait!" I call. "I'm okay! I can stand!"

I don't know if I can, but I don't want a doctor to come into this scenario. Doctors ask questions, and in this particular case, questions I can't answer.

"Well, okay, then," Mom says softly, helping me up. My stomach churns like I'm hanging upside down from a tree branch, but I make my way back to the front entrance without falling down like an injured drunkard.

My mom opens the door and I enter the kitchen. I reach for a tray of dirty dishes to wash them, feeling the familiar sickness in my stomach start up, but Mom pulls the tray away.

"Now that's quite enough, Jim!" she says. "Go to bed! I won't let you work. I think you had a rough time last night."

I heard her mutter as I made my way up to my bedroom. "I wonder what on earth's gotten into that boy. Did he go swimmimg? He's soaked!"

As if a lightbulb went off in her head, my mom runs to the bottom of the stairs. "Jim! Change into some dry clothes, sweetie!"

Yeah, right.

I glance out the window and notice a thick red cloud in the water, bobbing, floating, like blood. Wait?!

Is that...is that the girl?