"Darling, I'm a nightmare dressed as a daydream."
Underneath the golden heart and perky smile, Carly strived for chaos. Carly had a deep, dark secret of a hidden power, connected to the minds and emotions of others - a secret that Carly's step-brot...
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CARLY WOKE WITH A FRIGHT. Nightmares were something that had become a part of Carly's life, but it had been a while since she had woken to seek her sketchbook, needing to draw the horrors that could be true.
But, as Carly flipped through her art book, she found the pages empty.
Until one page caught her attention: again and again, an old grandfather clock had been drawn. Each one was exactly the same, but something about it was different too; the glass cracked, the wood splintered, and blood dripped.
Carly picked up her pencil, determined to draw the darkness that plagued her mind. Though, every time her pencil touched the white paper, all she could sketch was the clock.
Lost in the madness of it, Carly felt a talon-like hand curl onto her shoulder. The sheer coldness of it was like icicles against her exposed skin, stealing the last of Carly's breath. As Carly turned, ready to face the monster that was lurking, she was met with nothing but shadows.
And then four chimes rang, echoing deep inside Carly's head.
Darting upwards, Carly woke with wide eyes and her breathing heavy. The silky pyjamas clung to her body, but all Carly could feel was the cold chill of the shadows. At least, until warm hands were wrapping around her waist, lips pressing briefly against her neck.
"Hey, you're okay," Steve soothed her. "It was just a nightmare."
"Just a nightmare," Carly agreed.
Though, her gut was telling her otherwise.
"You wanna talk about it?" Steve offered.
Carly shook her head, wincing at the flare of pain in her head. It was the kind of nightmare that would either make her seem crazy or leave Steve paranoid, thinking it was all happening again. Instead, Carly laid down again as she reached for headphones, listening to one of the tapes her dad had made for her. Steve's arms were around her waist still, keeping his girlfriend close to him in the hope that it was enough to comfort her.
Most nights it was enough — but not tonight.
Sunlight started to crack through the curtains, the hint of daylight torturous as it meant Carly had failed on getting another night of sleep. Needing something to do, Carly reached for her letter from Eleven, reading it again in hope that the words would cheer her up — or perhaps even hint that maybe she felt that something was off too.
Even though Eleven had moved, the two had still stayed in contact with a surprising friendship forming. In the short time, Carly had known her, she had come to see Eleven like a little sister — someone who understood Carly when no one else could. But, Eleven no longer had her powers, so Carly hoped she was truly happy in California with her new, normal life.
"What are you reading?" Steve asked, waking up again.
"El's letter," said Carly, removing her headphones as they hung around her neck. "I like reading how happy she is."
