Haunted

Chapter 7 §

Light. There was a soft glow up ahead. After so long in the darkness, the light momentarily blinded me.

I still couldn't see my father, I could only feel his hand. But I knew it was him.

I heard a soft whisper in my ear, warm breath tickling the side of my face. "I love you. Both of you. I'm so proud of you. Keep watching out for your brother."

I felt my heart skip a beat. But before I could respond, I was pushed into the light.

-----

Age 6
"Come on, bookworm, fight back," Rick taunted. I tried to ignore him and push past his possey, but he shoved me and I tripped and fell over backwards, landing on my butt. I gripped my books tight, not letting them slip out of my grasp.

My parents were both working that day and they were confident that I could walk home. I learned the hard way that Rick lives generally close to me.

He caught me off guard and yanked the book out of my hands. I stayed frozen as he played with it. Why was he messing with me? Rick was like four years older than me.

"What's this?" He muttered while thumbing through the pages. "Mother Goose Stories?!"

I felt my face beat red as he and his friends laughed at me. I brought the book everywhere. For some reason, it was just comfortable having it with me.

I remained still as he continued flipping through the pages roughly, as if afraid any sudden movement might cause him to damage the book.

Rage built up inside me, and it felt as if it was being held back by nothing but a thin wall.

Rick wasn't being gentle at all. I heard a rip, an ear-splitting rip. "Whoops," he said sarcastically, his buddies laughing. The thin wall containing my anger crumbled.

I stood up so quickly Rick didn't have time to react. I swung my foot at his ankle and he yelped and fell to the ground. I took the opportunity and kicked him in the stomach as hard as I could.

Rick screamed and curled up into a little ball on the ground. I ripped my book from his hands, grabbed my backpack, and ran away.

A glance back showed me Rick's friends were helping him up and crossing the street to his house.

I kept running down the sidewalk until I reached my house, where I slammed the door and leaned against it to catch my breath.

-----

I sat bolt upright, covered in a cold sweat. "Daddy!" I yelled, my voice hoarse. The world around me was spinning. I blinked once, and it slowly started to still.

I frantically searched wherever I was for any sign of my father. Nothing. I was in a room, on a bed. The room looked like a hospital. My hair was still down and brushed, only it was wet, probably from sweat.

It took a couple of seconds for me to calm down. When I did, I finally noticed someone squeezing my hand. My first thought was it was my dad, but the hand was smaller, less rough.

Zach. He was in a chair next to the bed, eyes wide with shock. His eyes were red and puffy, and tears streaked his face. He made no effort to wipe them away. His whole body was trembling. I just stared.

Why was he so upset? "Zach?" My voice came out in a whisper. "What's going on?" I asked, louder this time.

"I'm dreaming," he responded.

I cocked my still pounding head to the side. "Your not dreaming. What's going on? Where's Carson?"

He just continued shaking his head. "This isn't real."