Chapter Nine
Rose darted up out of sleep and looked up at the concerned face of her dad's. "Shit," she breathed heavily, "Dad."
"Sorry," John apologized, "I came into the house and you weren't anywhere so I came in here." he frowned and asked, "Are you feeling okay, kiddo?"
"Um, yeah," she mumbled, felt a bit disorientated then asked, "What time is it?"
"Near eight-thirty, you hungry?" he asked, saw her somewhat dazed expression, "Picked up your favorite fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy."
She nodded and said, "Yeah, sounds great."
He smiled and said, "Okay, come on down." He reached, patted her on the head then turned and left the room.
Upon the door closing, she looked around her room. "That was," she mumbled, "I don't know." She pulled the blankets back and brought her feet to the floor.
Felt a tad shaky, she left her room to join her dad and brother in the dining room for supper. She kept pretty quiet the entire time, two and a half hours felt like several. Her mind was scrambled, thoughts confused and mixed up. She started to have a hard time determining the differences between dream and reality. Was it all just a dream?
Once finished eating, she took care of the paper plates and leftovers while her dad got Jacob ready for bed. She took a moment to return upstairs, somewhat reluctantly, and fetched one of her mom's old nightgowns she saved from donation then retreated downstairs to hopefully shower away her shakiness. She took a long hot shower unable to get those dreamed images out of her head, it was as if he was still in her mind.
After the shower she said goodnight to her dad who had just returned from tucking Jacob in for the night.
"Hey," John spoke up as Rose stepped onto the landing, "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, Dad." Rose glanced at her dad, "Just getting used to school and all. I'm tired that's all."
"Well, get some sleep and see you in the morning. Don't forget to set your alarm okay." John smiled then headed down the stair to go to the living room to continue with more paperwork.
"Okay," she softly said then moved towards her room.
She stepped to the double doors and stood for a moment somewhat leery about returning to her room, unsure what was going to happen next. She took a deep breath and entered the room. So far the temperature was normal and cozy. She stepped to the bed and cranked the alarm clock for six-thirty in the morning. Turning around, she scanned the room then reluctantly moved to the overhead light switch. Her hand lingered at the switch with her eyes looking about the room.
With another deep breath she flipped the light off then moved back to the bed. She sat down and scanned the shadows. Her legs tucked under the blankets then she laid back and pulled the covers up to her chest. Her eyes focused on the ceiling and gradually her eyes adjusted to the dark.
Inside her there was a struggle, cautious about both falling asleep or staying awake. Both were equally off setting. She hadn't heard a single peep since her dad woke her nor saw a single hint of that ghostly presence. Maybe everything that had happened never really happened, she hoped, just her mind playing tricks.
She dared and closed her eyes as her hands gripped the covers.
His eyes stared down at her. He kept his silence the entire time she was awake. He hoped that all his work hadn't gone bust the moment she opened her eyes. Very watchful, he silently stood beside her bed, waited for the moment she was again brought into a deep sleep.
His mind spoke out. Sleep, Rose, sleep for me. I need you to dream. You need to dream and dream of me. His eyes gently closed with his mind focused on hers. Yes, Rose, I'm waiting for you in your dreams. His lips formed their cunning grin. He felt her begin to fall beneath the power of deep sleep. Such a fragile mind and so easy to enter and enter her mind he did the moment her eyes began to shift beneath closed lids.
His eyes drifted open then looked down at her.
In their combined rooms, he stood beside the bed she had brought with her. She looked peaceful asleep within her dream, their dream. Now he had until the clocks chimed the rise of dawn.
He carefully moved onto the bed, dressed as he was in the prior dream with the shirt removed and barefoot. His eyes closely focused on her peaceful and lovely face. Yes, she was beautiful, that he never fabricated.
In her peaceful state he took the time to truly admire her beautiful features. Her soft oval face surrounded delicate features that were a petite well shaped nose. He brought his fingertip and lightly traced the bridge of her nose. Her lips were subtle in fullness and a naturally pale rose pink. The tip of his finger grazed down the center of her relaxed mouth. His eyes looked to hers, a natural pink shadow over the closed lids with slightly pale reddish brown and modestly thick lashes, above were pale strawberry blonde brows with a slight arch.
Yes, very lovely, he praised in thought.
His fingers curled under then brushed back against her naturally pale cheek with just a small dusting of freckles. He leaned down, his fingers uncurled, his hand gently rested against the side of her face. I'm going to kiss you, he spoke out through his mind.
Her closed eyes frowned, brow slightly furrowed. Her eyes darted open just as her ghost was about to finish where he left off.
With a startle, she pushed upward and to her left, "What do you think you're doing?" she immediately asked then looked at him. He was again too damned real.
"I was about to do what I had intended on doing before your father woke you." he blatantly answered, "I was going to kiss you."
"No shit," she quickly agreed.
"Was I wrong to assume that a kiss was about to happen earlier before that unfortunate interruption?" he asked, pushed himself seated then reached his hand to the side of her face.
She quickly leaned back and looked at him as if he shouldn't be there.
With a frown of deceptive confusion, he stated, "I thought you wanted me to kiss you."
"I don't know," she said, confused, then confessed, "I thought all of it was just some crazy mind screw up. I really thought you didn't exist because," her eyes frowned, so damned confused, "I don't know, maybe because I…" She couldn't explain any of her thoughts.
"I exist," he responded to her confusion then stated, "I'll prove that I exist."
He again reached and she oddly leaned further propped back with her hands against the bed, "Don't be afraid." he urged then encouraged, "Let me touch you and you'll feel that I exist." He watched her softly shake her head with reluctance and knew he had to make some repairs, fix the damage the interruption caused.
"Please, Rose," he deceptively pleaded, "When I touch you it proves to me that I exist." he spoke as a softness was about his eyes. Yet, her reluctance held prominently in her eyes but so was the confusion. "Fine," he was determined to return things as they were before the interruption and offered, "Then you touch me and you'll feel that I'm real, that I exist."
He swiftly took her hand in his, she hesitantly pulled back but he held firm. Cautiously, for her, he brought her hand against the side of his face and softly spoke, "There, do you feel that I'm real. Only in your dreams am I physical, touchable, and," he turned his head against the feel of her hand and gently but briefly pressed his lips against the palm, kept his eyes focused on hers, "And very capable of kissing you."
His hand over hers, he brought it down against his chest, "I want to kiss you, Rose." he stated with his voice velvety smooth then cunningly asked, "Don't you want me to kiss you?" He shifted hands, brought his left hand over hers and held it pressed against his chest. His right hand slid down against her forearm, over the crook of her elbow and moved up against her upper arm. The desire was there in her wide eyes as he knew it was in his. He slid his hand up and over the curve of her shoulder then rested it against the side of her neck. Lightly he brushed back the length of her hair. He leaned forward and lifted his left hand from over hers which remained against his chest. He reached, brought his left hand against the other side of her neck.
Her chest heaved as her eyes were widely locked with his. Her heart raced but was it excitement or fear that pounded inside her chest?
Her eyes shifted between frowning and relaxing, the thoughts were so damned confusing. It was just a dream, she tried convincing herself, he was just a damned dream gone wrong. Or was it wrong? She couldn't decipher. She couldn't deny what she read in those archives that told of the horrors of that small community where a well hidden madman took lives of a few. Charley Brewster's involvement and the others as well all wove a tale that the madman was a magician and said he drew them all into a dark world that gave him the persona of a vampire. Then he said he was a vampire and they killed him at the break of dawn.
What was fact and what was fiction? What was real and what wasn't?
Yeah, sure, she felt his hands against the sides of her neck but it was a dream and you feel whatever you wanted in a dream. She wasn't even sure if she wanted that dream, to be in that dream alone with the infamous monster that seemed to still haunt Charley Brewster. But was he really a monster?
Oh, everything was so damned confusing because of what she read and what he had told her.
He read it all in her eyes and heard it all in her mind. He read and heard it all as she desperately scrambled through her thoughts for any remotely logical answer. He couldn't allow her to grasp any fears which weren't logical for his need of her. He needed control but to achieve it was to give her the sense of her own.
"This is your dream, Rose," his voice spoke with such cunning melody, "You have control to do whatever you want in your dreams."
"Do I?" she questioned him and herself with a breathy tone. She watched him gently nod.
Did she have control? Sometimes it seemed that way then other times it seemed he had the control.
"Go ahead," he encouraged and burned his eyes deeper into hers, "Do whatever you want. Make it anything you want."
Whatever she wanted. Anything she wanted. She lightly closed her eyes and repeated in her mind, whatever I wanted, anything I wanted.
(Author)
More of that dream coming... Oh, my, what's going to happen? Duh, we already know, don't we?
FRIGHT NIGHT FOREVA!
