AN: The song lyrics in this chapter are from "Since U Been Gone" by Kelly Clarkson. Please note that I actually like most of the music Sarah and Ron complain about. They are music elitists, I am not.
Mrs. Bennet is from the novel Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, which I warmly recommend to everyone.
VIII. Dreams of a Tortured Mind.
Redness streaked down the dirt road. I tried to swerve around it, but I barely know how to drive, so for my pains I barreled right into it.
Turns out "it" was a six-foot-tall, red-feathered dinosaur bird. I don't think it liked being driven into. It screeched, showing its rows of razor teeth, and scratched the truck hood with its foreclaw.
"Oh, I will surely go into hysterics! Oh, my poor nerves!" cried Mrs. Bennet, squeezing her handkerchief in terror and anguish.
The dinosaur bird turned its head to stare at her in the passenger seat. She flailed her arms, switching on the radio accidently.
A bizarre song began to play. It didn't even sound like music to me. I guessed it must be some of that horrible current pop music Ron and I were forbidden to listen to because it would "destroy [our] ability to think for [our] selves."
I didn't have much time to contemplate the sheer awfulness of the song because the dino slashed the windshield open.
Quickly I scanned the car for weapons, for anything that could prevent me and my passenger's last earthly journey from being into the creature's snarling mouth. Nothing. The beady yellow eyes darted back and forth, as though trying to decide which human to eat first.
"Oh, this is the end, my dear! I shall die in agony, and Charlotte Lucas will gloat over my remains! And Jane will never get her Mr. Bingley! All is lost!" Mrs. Bennet wailed.
The radio said:
"But since you been gone
I can breathe for the first time
I'm so moving on
Yeah, yeah
Thanks to you
Now I get what I want…
Since you been gone…"
The last thing I saw was the darkness behind the dinosaur's tongue. But I didn't feel its teeth sinking in. Instead, I felt something gently poking my arm.
To my immense relief, I was not being eaten by a dinosaur. Nor was I driving a truck through the desert with Mrs. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. I was on a plane headed for New York City.
But the song continued to play. Was I still half-asleep? I shook my head to clear it and the music stopped.
"Well, well, look who decided to wake up," said Amy grumpily from the seat beside me. Moonlight and starlight poured through the windows, turning the plane's interior a vague silver-blue color. Amy is much easier to look at in dim light; one is less likely to go blind from the assault of artificial hair and makeup colors. She tells me she's something called emo, which is similar to punk and goth. Being emo apparently requires you to overreact to everything, dye your hair garish colors, use far too much eyeliner, wear skintight jeans and converse shoes, and listen to a lot of bad pop/rock music.
"How long have I been asleep?" I asked groggily.
"Since liftoff. I guess you must be pretty tired after all that's happened recently."
I nodded, trying to sift the memories of what really happened (the fire, the funerals) from what had only been a nightmare (Fang).
Now I understood where that awful song came from. It still piped faintly from Amy's earbuds, which had fallen on my lap after I shook them out of my ears. "Thanks for loaning me your iPod."
"No problem. What're you listening to?" She leaned over, examining the little glowing screen. "Ah, 'Since U Been Gone.' Isn't that song just the story of every teenage girl's life?"
"Um…to each her own, I guess."
I wasn't sure I understood Amy. She'd loaned me her iPod, and sometimes she'd smiled at me, but overall she acted like my brother and I were a huge burden on her. I wondered how Ron and I would respond if the positions were reversed, if Amy had lost her parents and been sent to live with us in Arizona.
If I thought about my old home, I'd start crying. There was enough time for that once we got to Uncle George's house, where at least I'd have privacy.
Ron leaned up from the seat behind Amy. "Hey sis. We're almost there." I couldn't tell how he felt on the subject from his tone of voice.
"I hate the city, but the view really is something," Amy told me. She had the window seat. "Wanna switch spots?"
"Sure, thank you." We swapped seats, and what I saw out that window left me speechless.
I'd seen pictures of NYC at night, but flying over it was a whole different ballgame. Colossal buildings sent out cold white-blue light from innumerable windows. Cars glowed and scuttled along the streets below. We floated between the sky and the city—not earth, but an element all its own.
Amy was right. It was beautiful, though it was also the polar opposite of my old home.
Fear prickled at my neck, as though the winged guy and his tales of evil scientists might not be entirely imaginary. But I shrugged it down. Fang was no more real than Mrs. Bennet and the dinosaur, I told myself. And everything's gonna be all right. You hear me, girl? Everything's gonna be all right.
