© Autumn Raine
A/N: More chapters. More parts. It might be short, so....I'm sorry. I have no like, ouline around me. x.x; Lots of switching POV and places. So...try not to get confused! !
___________________________________________________________________
Part Three:
River of Dreams
Kristina tossed and turned on her matress, her tiny frame enveloped by the thin sheet. Black hair was sprawled all over the matress and across her face, lids were tighly shut.
"No..." She muttered under her breath, tossing herself on her side; a bit of sweat on her brow.
..."..Stop...Just...Stop!"..She muttered again. It sounded like she was trapped.
Trapped in a dream, one horrible dream...
****Kristina's P.O.V. in her dream ( So you don't get lost! ) ****
I kept telling them to stop, I tried; I really did. But they kept calling for me. They wanted me to help them. They wanted me to save them, save them from dying. Their arms kept reaching out to touch me as if I were some....Angel of Life.
But I'm not the Angel of Life! I bring Death! I'm nothing but the Reaper's Pawn! But they kept shouting! Over and over again.
Their plees, their prayers, their mercys - all calling out to me in shrills, screams, or tear-choked voices.
They were dying...I know they were. I couldn't help them. No matter how much they reached to touch me, and how I squirmed and screamed; they kept trying.
Their faces and bodies were grey, as grey as slate which seemed to flake as their skin rubbed against mine... - They just kept crying. I was stuck in the middle of this mass of bodies that tried to reach me from where I sat; arms reaching to touch my leg, my arms, my hands.... The ground beneath me was elevated from the rest; holding me upwards like I was some beacon they were searching for.
I've had this dream before.
They're trying to tell me something. These voices, these people. These poor lost souls that only I can see and know their pain, their suffering, their anguish. "Save us, Kristina"...They cryed. "Save us from our pain! Our Angel of Light, help us!"
I did my best to block out their voices, I put my hands to my ears. I tried to look through the mass of bodies..
...But..What's that? Alana's face?! She's not dead, is she?
Oh please, don't let her...
Please...
Why is her image full of colour..? Why does it seem so distant..? Where is she going? Why won't she come back...why...
****.....****
"...Kristina?...Kris?...Are you ok?"
I moaned, and turned weakly - my dream fading away as quick as it came. My eyes sprung wide, and I looked to the pair of lavender orbs staring back at me; white fur dusting the owner's nose.
"Gabby...I'm fine..." I rubbed my hand over my face, wiping away the sweat that was on my forehead; taking away the few strands that stuck to the sides of my face.
Why don't the spirits ever give me a break? I try to confort them when they want to be seen, that's all they want to do. If they're troubled, they ask me; they seek for me. I tried to run away from them, but they found me here at the Farm. I try to block them away at times when there are just too many, but they flood my dreams. They always do....
"Are ya'sure? Ya not even talkin' to me, unless ya find that little dirt spot on tha wall more interestin'." She giggled, now thumping her tail on the ground like a puppy.
A puppy...Hmm. That's how Gabby was. Lovable, loyal, fun, carefree - yet sometimes, utterly annoying at times. Which, how she was right now. I was tired, and plus - I had to figure out this dream. "..No. Just thinking. I have to think about my dream..." I said softly, trying to make her...go away.
"Oh! A dream! Was it 'bout a boooy?" She winked, those lavender eyes of her just sparkling with interest.
"..No, something serious. So please, just let me think about it, okay? I'll tell you about it once I figure things out..." I said nicely, and softly again; and finally, she backed off and crawled back into her bed.
I sighed with relief. Oh no, it's not that I don't like her. It's just that...I like to be alone sometimes. Well...most of the time. I do sometimes have spirits that I talk to often, who always visit me. But, they haven't come in a while. I bet it's because they're sad of where I've come.
Again, that is just another story in my life - which could be a long book if I ever came to write it. Then again, I'm a mutant, and just the fact I publish something like that, I might just be killed - or maybe I'll just get killed here before anything does happen in my future....
The future, yeah. That.
I layed my head back down on my pillow, and curled myself up in my blanket; thoughts pouring into my mind as I just stared blankly at the wall near by.
What could that dream mean?
*Same night, another place, another POV*
...When I woke up, all I saw was an empty car. Where did they go!?
Oh, wait; a Seven Eleven? What was that? Looks like some road side stop, or something.
Wait! Why did they leave me in the car alone?! I'm a girl, don't they know what could happen to me!?
Quickly, I scrambled out of the back seat of the jeep; and jumped out to the ground. Adjusting my new clothes that they gave me the day before, I then ran a hand through my hair. As I did, I looked to the car beside ours, catching my reflection in the window from some of the dim lights about the small parking lot.
I looked so....normal. Like a normal person! My long hair was free and loose, but that silly costume was gone. A bandana folded up like a headband, was loosely around my head, keeping some strands of hair out of my still...pale face. BUT! I found make-up, well...stole it, but that's another story. A light pink blush was on my cheeks, and a shimmery liner and shadow on my eyes. My clothes...well. They were hand-me-downs, I could tell. I've had several of those before I made it to the Farm.
I don't know if they were my style...I mean, I don't even know what's in style. Last time I was acutally...free, I guess you can say...I was 6 and tight leggings were instyle...as well as big, off to the side-ponytailed hair!
But, anyway, I felt great. Dispite how short the shorts were, and how the tight t-shirt basically hugged whatever small chest I have, and how my toned stomach was shown - which I...and Pietro..Liked alot; I felt like a normal girl.
Ack! I fliched as the owner of the car I was staring at jiggled his keys rather loudly; a angered look on his face.
"Plannin' on stealin' mah car, bitch?" He sneered.
What the hell!? I was just looking at my OWN reflection, bastard. Ugh. I glared at him, just feeling my own anger bubble up inside. "..No. Why would Ah steal a piece of shit car, like yers? Man, if that's supposed ta'be a Hot Rod, ya sure got sum work ta do on the body."
He looked at me with an arched brow, then glared back at me as I stepped towards the 7-11 door. "Well-Well, at least it's got some Nitro, and some juice that makes it fly; dun matter how it looks." He creeked open the door, and turned on the car as he sat down; I just laughed on the inside as he revved the engine over and over.
I bursted out laughing, and shouted, "Well at least Ah know when a car needs a good oil change!" And with that, I went inside the 7-11, giggling to myself as I walked to the back of the store near the bottled drinks.
Did I mention I really didn't know what I was talking about? Maybe it was that Car magazine Lance had in the back I was flipping through...
And that was just the funny part! I had no clue if I even was saying the right things!
Wiping my eyes from the tears of laughter, I found Pietro and Lance; standing near the row of magazines near the cash-register. As I walked over to them, I picked up a stray box of donuts. I tried to peek over their shoulders, but, Lance was too tall; but Pietro, my Angel of course, was just right in height where I could rest my chin about his neck.
I smiled, and wrapped my arms about him, looking down to the magazine.
He smiled too, flashing that smile that made my arms so weak and my legs so jelly-like that I almost fell to the floor. I saw part of that icy blue peek from the corner of eye, and it sent shivers down my spine. Oh! He's been so sweet, and so nice - No wonder, I think, I'm falling in love with him.
But, Whoa. Wait a second! Is that...that..a NAKED WOMAN!?!?
Instantly, I backed off of him, and just stood there with a redder blush eating at my cheeks; my arms folded over my chest and my eyes looking to the ground. "Urm..Ah'm sorry. Didn't know ya were...well..readin'...or lookin' at... some..of that magazine..."
I DIDN'T KNOW NAKED WOMEN WERE IN MAGAZINES! Ugh! I was beating my self inside for being so...eww. Do girls really...wear things like that?
I could see Pietro's blush on his cheeks as he put down the magazine, and looked to Lance; who had a Car magazine open with a bit of a smirk on his lips. Pietro glared at him and cleared his throat, and there fell a magazine just like Pietro was holding moments ago from the inside of the Car magazine.
"Um..." Lance blinked, scrambling to pick up the magazine and place both of them back on the racks. "..It came with the car magazine..." He shoved his hands in his pockets and went over towards the drinks.
I looked up to Pietro, locking my eyes on his. How could I not? They were so blue, and clear; so crystal clear. How could someone have eyes just like that...?
"Sorry about that, Alana...but..."
"..Ya're guys?" A smiled a bit. Ack, couldn't help it. Did I look like a moron? I instantly placed my hand over my cheek, my fingers slightly covering my lips. Was that a blush I felt...?
I knew he was smiling. I just knew. It's been a whole two days, just me and him...well..and Lance too. But...I think I'm starting to..really really like him. But a guy like him has to have a girlfriend, and a life. C'mon, I've been locked in a place for years; I have no idea about the world...school. Great, school again. Do I have to go to 1st grade since I missed everything since I was 6?
Why was I even thinking that?!
"..Yeah..But not all of us are like that.." He laughed softly, and placed an arm about my shoulder; walking with me towards Lance at the drinks.
I laughed softly with him, following him.
"...Do you have to hit on whatever girl we see?" Lance rolled his eyes.
Was Pietro really like that?
"..No, this one's different, Lancey-boy." Pietro rubbed his hand over my upper arm.
Ok! Anything that Pietro has ever done, I don't wanna know - but, he's here with me. Just me! I'm liking this attention...wouldn't anyone else?
"...You two are makin' me sick.." Lance stepped away from us, and headed to the counter; paying for the six pack of soda cans he found, as well as a bag of chips.
I kept smiling. I didn't care if I felt like an idiot. I really didn't. He's so nice, Pietro. So sweet, handsome, and lovable...I just can't even get him off my mind. I wonder if it'll all be this way once we get to New York. We've been driving for hours, and we're in..Oh..I think...Maryland? Something like that. I really don't know the states...For a while, when I was little...I thought Georgia was the world; and that people like me were in the Farm.
...But I really don't want to go back to the Farm. Even when we go and get all my friends, I don't want to go. I'm scared. We'll be stonger than them, right?....
*Back to the Farm location, Different POV*
Mini-Prelude
I sat in the dark all night. Just thinking. Thinking about my dream? What did it mean?
I bit at my lip as I began to think. The voices. They started to come back.
"Help us..." One hissed. I saw their hand go and try to grab my ankle. Grey, palid, and cold. Their fingers brushed up against the skin of my ankle. They tugged, "Tell my mom I love her.." It was a kid. With dark hair, and dark eyes. Dry blood was over his chest, a tatoo over his shoulder. A ganger. They always came to me. Those gang kids. Regretting all that they did. Confessing to me all they did wrong as if I could fix it.
I tightly closed my eyes and forced him out of my head, and poof. They were gone.
SIlence. I hate silence.
I did what I always did when thoughts pilled my mind.
I withdrew a small pocketknife from the inside of my pillow, the one I placed the first night I'd been here. Quietly, I slid the knife out from it's shiny, red handle; my fingertips running over the blade. Sharp. Always was. I felt it split the skin on my finger and thumb, crimson blood slowly dripping.
It wasn't enough.
Gripping the knife in my right hand, I positioned the blade over my left arm; the cold blade resting over my scar lined skin. I thought of Alana, I thought of the voices, I thought of me. Everyone was so lost. I just had to.
And I did, the blade cut open my skin; fresh blood dribbling over the side of my arm from the fresh cut. Ah, not too deep. I knew my boundry. I knew it.
I felt the voices fade away like a dream, flush themselves down the drain until their echo of chilling voices dissapeared.
Dropping the knife, I placed my hand over the wound.
Warm blood.
__________________________________________________________________
A/N: Hehe, just a little prelude at the end. I thought it'd fit good with what I was going to do with the next chapters. ^.^
R+R! Make me feel loved! :D!