A Summer's Dream

Chapter 1~Burger Boy and Cat Lady

A few rain drops slipped down the miniscule window. I was trapped between a man who looked like he had eaten one too many cheeseburgers, and a small frail lady who probably owned eight cats. Was she knitting? My fingers itched to trace the drops, an old habit I had when it rained. Both my elbows were tucked into me, the armrests digging their way into my arms; more than likely going to leave a scar. My ears were plugged up with headphones, blaring melancholy music. Cat Lady would give me a few disapproving glances but I ignored her. She probably disapproved of The Beatles and Elvis as well. Too risqué. I almost smirked at the thought but restrained myself so I wouldn’t meet her glaring eyes again. Creepy. Maybe she was part cat and the kittens she owned were her ninjas in training.

The clouds passed by and I could barely make out the grey waters of the Atlantic underneath us. I stared out of the window tiredly, probably looking like a zombie under a magical spell from the tooth fairy. Sighing, I continued to gaze out, fiddling with the lowest button on my flannel. One word was lodged in my head. I felt like someone had taken permanent marker and scratched it into my brain. Why?

 

A sudden crash was heard and I flinched under my covers. Was that thunder or the dishes? Everything had somehow morphed into a symphony of loud noises. I closed my eyes and imagined it sunny, peaceful, and warm. Unfortunately it was pouring rain outside, there were crashes and screaming coming from downstairs, and I felt like a popsicle; even under my heavy duvet. I pulled my covers closer to me, protecting my mouth and jaw from the frigidness in my room. After supper I immediately went upstairs, recognizing those all-too familiar glares my parents were giving each other. I didn’t want to hear it. At least I didn’t want to hear it loudly. The yelling could still be detected from my room, just not understandable. Thank goodness. I hated when they would call each other horrid names, like, backstabber, big mouth, witch. I could go on but I don’t feel like it.

Another crash came and I knew it was from downstairs. Flinching once again, I tightened my grip on the blanket. It was bad this time. Usually there were only thuds, probably from kicking a table, or shoving over a chair. But this time dishes were being smashed. It was bad.

The yelling continued for maybe another five minutes before I heard the door slam and a car starting. My eyes widened and I threw my covers off, leaping to the window. I watched as my dad’s sporty red car flew out of the driveway and down the road. The pane fogged up from my breath and I drew a frown face, tracing the rain drops. This was a first.

My stomach churned like the weather outside and a gut wrenching feeling washed over me. This was bad. Very bad. Neither of my parents would drive away. They usually both went into their separate rooms and when I woke up they would have a smile on their faces, the room magically cleaned up. But neither of them had ever driven off. I heard a frustrated sigh from outside of my door and I sprinted back into my bed, still fully clothed. It was only an hour after supper. I saw a few sparks fly from my socks as they rubbed against the bed, me throwing the covers over my entire body. A light knock was wrapped on my bedroom door but I stayed quiet. Listening intently, I picked up a squeak and I knew she had opened my one and only protection from the outer world.

“Are you asleep?” She whispered.

Maybe if I keep completely and utterly still she’ll think I was and go away. I didn’t want to face her right now. I didn’t know what she wanted and I didn’t know what I would say to her. This had never happened. She never went into my room after a fight. Neither of them did. Unfortunately my oxygen supply was running out from my small cave and I had to slip my nose out to breathe, immediately retracting it after a moment.

Hopefully she hadn’t seen it. I am part ninja... But unfortunately I heard another sigh and footsteps coming closer to me. Part of the bed dipped under her weight and I knew she had resigned herself on it. Figuring all hope was lost for the sleeping act I peeped my head out of the covers, a flood of light from the hallway illuminated some of my bed. My eyes went up to meet my mother’s. They were blood shot with some lines under them. Crying. She had been crying. I silently thought I was like Sherlock Holmes but snapped out of it when I noticed a small tear slide down her slightly tan skin, unlike mine. She hastily swiped it away with the back of her hand and brushed a few strands of hair away from my face. I waited in anticipation. What did she want? What could she want?