"Ivy, Ivy? Wake up! Stop screaming!" I hear Cookie shout from the hallway, "You're going to wake up your little brother!" I sit up startled, taking a gulp of stagnant water that had been sitting on my bedside table at least for the last couple days. My alarm clock read 8:47A.M and I nervously lay back down, burying my face in a soft pillow.

This dream won't stop coming, it returns and never goes away. I feel the sudden intense pull to whoever is saying my name, knowing that it is important; and then the pain. It feels so real that sometimes when I wake up, I still feel it. But when I wake up, I don't remember where the pain is or who is calling my name. As if I'm missing half the dream…

Already some of the details were slipping away. Was it my name that the voice was calling or somebody else's? Where was I? All questions that were unanswerable; at least until tonight. "I'm sorry Cookie." I apologized hearing my little brother Ben stirring in his bedroom across the hall. "You better be!" she called over her shoulder in her southern accent.

Cookie was my somewhat grandma. At least she was like one to me, always there. Actually she was always there, me and my dad had built a little living space for her in the basement after my mom died… she had sort of become the lady of the house. You see though, she wasn't actually my mothers mother; just a very close friend to her mothers that had stuck around to watch me and my brothers grow up.

Waa, waa, waa, waa Ben cried while hiccupping. I tiredly crawled out of bed stretching my legs and back. First left leg, then the right and then my back; just out of habit.

"Ivy woke you up. Don't look at me like that. It was Ivy." Cookie declared talking to Ben, even though he was little more than three years old. I took another sip of the old water and staggered out into the hall.

My older brother Parker walked out from his bedroom, his shiny black hair still ruffled and choppy on his forehead. "Hey sis." He said crossing over the grape juice stained carpet in between our rooms. He came over and gave me a huge hug, practically squeezing the breath out of me. Parker and I were extremely close, especially since he had been there to comfort me when mom died. When dad was lost in depression, Parker had been the one who hugged me and wiped the tears off my face when the news became too much to hold. She had died three years ago when I was thirteen. Parker had been fourteen, yet he had acted as if he had known completely how everything worked, and how everything should be. "Hey Parker. Did you sleep well?" I answered, letting go of him so that I could look at his face. "Yeah. I think, I don't really remember though; you know I was sleeping." He said, amusement twinkling in his amber eyes.

"Ha-ha." I laughed and then said, "I'll race you to breakfast! There is only one blueberry muffin left!"

"Don't even try!" He said, already springing down the stairs with his long lanky legs.

"Not fair!" I called following him down the steep steps as quickly as I could.

He reached the bottom long before I got there, and stood in the pantry grabbing the last muffin.

"Oh you…" I mumbled loud enough for him to hear me. His hand reached for it and brought it out into the kitchen, placing it carefully on the South Carolina Granite that was littered with empty packages and other types of trash.

I shook my head playfully when he cast a glance in my direction. "Here," He handed me half the muffin.

"Thanks." I said turning around to the cupboards to pick a glass for both me and Parker. Swiftly jumping over the island in the middle of our kitchen, I reached the fridge and pulled it open. I grabbed the orange juice and poured it in to both of the clear glasses.

"Here you go." I said handing him the cup of juice and then sitting down at the old mahogany table. "How did you sleep?"

"Not good." He answered taking a bite of his half of the muffin.

"Why? You usually sleep well,"

"Not last night. I couldn't wake up soon enough."

"What happened?"

"I don't really know… I don't think you would want to know either." The easygoing atmosphere disappeared leaving an extremely serious one in its place. Little did I not tell him something because it would hurt him; he did the same in return. Truth only made you stronger; cringing away from it would make you weak.

"Really, you don't want to know."

"Yes I do," I urged him, "I'll tell you what happened in mine."

"Fine," He gave in, "I was running through the woods. I could feel that something was chasing me, but I wasn't sure. It felt like I kept running and running until I could run no more. My mouth was dry and my head was beating intensely. So I turned around…"
"Keep going." I said. He looked on the verge of tears and it was hard to make him continue, but I needed to know so that I could help him.

"Okay… mom was there." All of the air rushed out of my lungs. I could feel a tear trickle down the side of my pale face, leaving trails of shiny streaks.

"What?" I whispered, leaning over and laying my head on the table. "What do you mean? Mom is… dead." Suddenly all of my appetite was gone and I just played with the muffin in front of me, trying to block the memories of my mother. But they came surging back and I was unable to stop the images from forming in my head.

We were on the tallest hill in my community, Cabin Hill. My mother held her telescope out to me offering a look at the meteor shower that was raining across the sky. I nodded my head and she laid it in front of me. I was careful not to knock it down and I peeked through the tiny hole. A whole new world opened up to me. Stars, constellations, planets, galaxies and more crowded the sky. I even saw a stray shooting star jet across the sky, its tail leaving a trail of blue in its wake.

Then the scene changed. Now we were back at home. She was sitting on my bed while I was tucked deep underneath. It looked as if I was asleep, my eyelids fluttering every once in a while. My mother sang Amazing Grace to me, gently stroking my back. When my breathing slowed down to a regular sleeping pattern, she left closing the door behind her lightly. But not before she whispered, "I love you," In my ear.

Even though I was asleep in the vision, I could still feel the change in it and the real world. The floor began to spin and the bed twirled with great speed, until it felt like I was flying.

"Ivy! Wake up!" Parker yelled holding my head in his lap, frequently tapping my forehead with the palm of his hand as if to check if I had a fever.

I opened my eyes, surveying the situation. Cookie stood right behind Parker, shaking her head from side to side as if to say, 'not again'. Ben was in her hands, cocking his own small head to the side. And Parker sat straight ahead of me, a petrified look on his face. When he saw me open my eyes he lunged towards me, holding out his arms. He quickly grasp me in his strong hold and didn't let go for a couple of minutes. Slowly he realized me, yet, still he longed for comfort of my body next to his. And I did too. But I needed to be alone. What just happened? And most important, why? I had had these visions before but that was right after she had died, and the wound of her death on me was still open and ready to sting. Now, three years later, you would think that they would have stopped. But of course, nothing normal ever happened in the Lynn household.