Coraline never had a reoccurring dream unless she was afraid. For the most part she was a bodacious soul as the Earth was faltered with surprises for such a free-spirit. Even so, she could not deny the pit of fear that conquered her. The dream was too intense. She was in an alternate version of the "Starry-Night" painting, hellish and warped. Rather than a blissful, blue hue, the sky was now a deep blood red, oozing black blotches replaced where the stars once were. The strokes of the painting moved menacingly around her like a violent river. There was no foreground, no sign of the little town or the towering tree that was featured in the original piece. It was irrelevant to Coraline for she could barely see two inches ahead due to a violent gust of wind that thrashed about as if she was inside a tornado. Instead she was held up by an invisible platform which she struggled to stand on. She squint her eyes and attempted to use her hand as a blind, a vain effort to see what was ahead. She thought she saw an outline of something way in the distance but it was impossible to tell for sure as the wind thrashed powerfully against her face.
Among the harsh blustering Coraline's ears briefly picked up an echo of someone calling out to her; a cry so weak and timid that at first she thought it was her own mind until she heard it again, barely a smidgen stronger than before. She tried listening in but it was like listening to a radio station drowning in static.
"Miss! Miss!"
It almost sounded like children, specifically the three ghost children she had met when she fought the Other Mother, or as they called her: The Beldam. As Coraline strained her eyes toward the entity far away she could barely make out three figures standing miles from where she was. She hoped to God they were her friends, at the same time she wished they would go away. No doubt if they were in this execrable chaos of a nightmare then their message was of unfortunate tidings to come.
"We don't have much time! Miss!"
Coraline struggled to move against the violent current toward the three children. She could hardly hear their little voices peeping through the thick stormy wall.
"Why are you here!?" she yelled with all the strength her lungs could bear.
"Another child has been stolen! David Reedling is in grave danger! You need to tell Lauren-"
The connection was severed; their voices were muted and Coraline couldn't hear a thing except the wind blustering in her ear. The gust evolved into a roar and she was blown off her feet like a leaf, drifting her back to reality.
When Coraline awoke, she found herself tuck deep within her sheets like a fortress. The blankets were damp from her cold sweat, her gut was in a knot and her heart was pounding in her chest.
Could it be possible that Lauren's brother wasn't just "missing", but kidnapped? It didn't make sense; she had locked the door and thrown away the key. She had taken care of all the Beldam's little minions, specifically the severed hand. What else could she have missed? Coraline glanced at her alarm clock which beamed 3:35 in bright red. It is way too late for this… She shuffled herself out from underneath the layers of blankets to head downstairs for a glass of milk.
Between the grogginess and the complete darkness of the hallway, it was a miracle she didn't go tumbling down the stairs. Upon reaching the bottom floor she felt around for a lamp to flick on. The table lamp was gentle on her eyes while being just bright enough to find her way to the kitchen, unlike the fridge light which burned into her eyes like a frensel lens. With one hand shielding her eyes, Coraline reached in and dragged out a gallon of milk. The weight nearly pulled her arms off but she managed to heave the carton onto the counter with only a few droplets to spare. She stood on her toes and stretched over the vanity, barely reaching the cabinets with the cups in it. Using her middle finger she could scarcely touch the tall glass that was closest to the ledge; she just managed to shuffle it into her grip. After fixing herself a drink she headed right back to bed, too tired to remember to put the milk away or close the fridge.
She was almost at the foot of the stairs when she thought she heard a squeak come from the living room. A shutter ran down her spine as she stared down the hall into inky blackness. This was the room with the little door in it; behind the little door was HER. But the little door was locked, Coraline made sure of the several months ago. She convinced herself it was just a mouse until the noise began to amplify. It grew from a tiny squeak to a whisper to a light sobbing. The slight uneasiness morphed into raw fear as the sobbing became a full-fledged crying. She wanted to run up to her bedroom, jump back under the sheets and convince herself that she had been dreaming but her little feet were frozen to the floor.
BANG! BANG! Now there was no doubt that Coraline was very much awake. SHE was slamming against the door like an animal in a cage, igniting a blood curdling shriek from Coraline as her glass crashed onto the floor. The ruckus echoed throughout the home, leaving the petrified little girl alone in the dark. Now all she could hear was her hefty breathing, followed by the sound of her parents coming down the stairs.
"Coraline, what's wrong?" Her mother's tired voice crept from over her shoulder. She didn't bother to look at her parents, not that it mattered. Coraline's disturbed condition was overlooked by the mess she had made.
"Coraline that was one of my Christmas cups, and you made a mess!"
"Uh…I-I'll clean it…" she whispered with half a soul. She could still hear the crying and the banging echoing around her head.
"No it's fine, I don't want you to get cut, just go back to bed."
"O-okay."
Coraline drifted to the stairwell. Fear had taken hold in the cockpit of her mind and all things present faded into the background. Going up the steps turned into a mountain climb as heart began to race. Her body was drenched in a cold sweat, her skin was paper white and a chill ran from her toes to the tip of the hair on her head. She didn't know what she would do if she had to face HER again.
"Coraline! You forgot to put the milk away!" Her train of thought was ceased to a halt thanks to her father's nagging. She hesitated, to her going downstairs would be similar to jumping into a lion's den.
"Coraline!"
"I'm coming!"
Coraline didn't want her parents to think she was upset. The best thing was to act as rational as possible, despite the terror. She slowly paced downward, eliciting a creak step by step; once she hit the bottom she stopped dead in her tracks. Halfway there, she held her breath and fast walked down the hall. Coraline charged straight ahead without noticing her father right outside the kitchen.
"Woah, watch your step!" Charlie shuffled back as his daughter bumped into his chest. She glanced at him briefly with a couple of big brown eyes, the kind a child would make when she needed a hug. Charlie expected a half-hearted apology at the least; instead she moseyed around him toward the fridge, looking anywhere but her father.
"Hey Coraline, are you okay?"
She was in the middle of placing the milk in its rightful place, with the carton in one hand and the door handle to the fridge in the other.
"Yeah, fine. I just had a bad dream."
"Hmm, want me to go upstairs with you?"
Yes.
"No, that's okay."
"Alright, goodnight then."
Charlie called out, with no response from his daughter. She continued to put the milk away in silence. Coraline now had a couple of minutes to herself. She stood in front of the fridge with a grim expression as though she were standing at someone's grave. With the experience she had she knew very well that this was more than likely not a trick of her tired mind. Best case scenario; she was a schizophrenic. Coraline slumped her head against the freezer. She couldn't stand there forever; eventually she would have to make a run for it back upstairs. She peered outside the kitchen and saw her mother on one knee in front of the accursed living room, picking up pieces of broken glass. In Coraline's mind she was a guardian, like one of those stone lions that guarded the gateway to someone's home. It was easier to move her hesitant little feet across the hall, even if her fear wasn't completely quenched. She managed to shuffle toward the staircase, her mother only a foot or so to her left.
"Hey mom…"
"Yes Coraline?" Her mother croaked, still collecting the remaining shards. She sounded like she was being raised from the dead.
"Never mind, goodnight."
"Mmhm."
Coraline crawled back into bed. She curled into a ball as the whispering began to creep into her mind. Once again, the low moans turned into a child's heart wrenching sob. She vainly tried to hold back her own tears but she knew better. She knew her dream was no coincidence; she knew she wasn't just "hearing things" or "seeing things" and she knew the evil that lurked behind the walls of the living room all too well. It was now 3:41. Tonight would be along night indeed as Coraline lay awake to a chorus of cries.