Where It Ends

4 | just relatives

SHE WAS THERE. Standing no more than a few yards away was Whitney, my mother. For the first time in ages she looked alive instead of merely breathing. Her cheeks were no longer hollow and her eyes were a vibrant green, the spark that had once been in them returned. She was staring right in my direction, but it was almost as if she was looking right past me. Like I was some sort of ghost that no one could see.

My body was entirely frozen in place. Any attempt at moving towards her was useless, my limbs failing to escape whatever captivity they were in. Panicked, I glanced down to see what was happening. There wasn't any ground beneath me. I wasn't standing up, but instead laying down in some sort of white box.

She was still in the same place when I looked back up at her, but this time her eyes were focused directly on mine. Her expression was taunting, daring me to come to her. She didn't speak because she didn't have to. We both understood that words were unnecessary.

I noticed some sort of wetness under me. Looking around the box again I saw a spout, dread settling in when I realized I was in a bathtub. The water coming out of the spout started out clear, but when it touched me it joined the pool of opaque black. It seemed to pour faster until the water had already covered most of my body.

And all she did was stare and laugh.

I screamed and screamed and screamed, begging her to help. Finally she resentfully reached out a hand, but before I could take it she snatched it away with a smirk and laughed even harder.

She then backed away, and the farther she went from me the more lifeless she looked. Her cheeks sunk back to regular, and the spark in her eyes was gone. And just like that, she disappeared.

The water kept rising higher and higher even after she left. Suddenly a figure came over the pool looking horrified, franctically trying to turn off the spout and lift me out. But I was still stuck, destined to drown in whatever I was in.

The black pool was less than a millimeter away from consuming me. It was hopeless. The figure was crying, sobbing, yelling, but I had accepted my fate. I knew what was going to happen. Then—

I woke up in a cold sweat, panting heavily. What was that? I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a nightmare that paralyzing.

Immediately I jumped out of the bed to make sure the door was still locked and sighed in relief when I saw it was exactly how I left it the night before. You're fine, Evie. You're safe. None of it was real. It was only a dream.

I shuddered one last time. There was no way I'd be able to get back to sleep after that, despite that it was still pitch black and I was more tired than when I went to sleep. I opened the smallest pouch on my backpack to check the time on my phone— 5:37 a.m. Despite my many protests, Ray and Claudia insisted on getting me one for Christmas three or four years back, just to make sure they could check up on me. That's when another feeling of dread settled in when I realized...

I never told any of them what was going on. Somebody better start planning my funeral now.

Underneath the time and date on the phone were dozens of texts and missed calls from them all, and I rolled my eyes when I saw that half of them were from TJ. I knew all of them were probably asleep at this point, so instead of calling I just sent a round of quick texts to the group chat I had with the boys.