The Masked Girl (Louis Tomlinson)

Chapter 40: The Hometown Girl

Chapter 40: The Hometown Girl

“Time to wake up!”

Her high, squeaking voice rings clearly throughout my room. I don't open my eyes, but I can feel her curls tickling my face.

“I don't want to get up,” I complain, turning and shoving my face further in my pillow.

“Come on Piper! You've got to get up!”

Now she has jumped on top of me and is giggling as if this is the funniest thing she has ever experienced. I just want to sleep for five more minutes. It seems to be a rule that little kids stay in constant motion though. I still haven't learned. If only I knew what being an older sister really means. It isn't just the fun parts. It includes annoying wake up calls. I roll over carefully so as not to throw her small body onto the ground.

Squinting an eye open at her, I ask, “Why did you wake me up Lizzie?”

“Because the sun is up.” She giggles, scrunching up her nose as if that's obvious.

“Alright, alright, then I'm up too.” I groan but keep a smile on my face.

She thinks that she's safe on top of my legs, but I quickly reach for her exposed sides and tickle her. Her laughs fill my room, and she desperately tries to get my hands off of her. It's a valiant effort but a failure in the end. Thankfully for her, I am merciful. Still giggling, she hops off of me.

“Dad made pancakes.” She grins widely.

“Alrighty,” I say, swinging my legs off the side of my bed and stretching my arms over my head.

Suddenly, she gasps and falls to the ground. Her hair hangs to cover her face. That gets me out of bed immediately.

“What's wrong?” I ask, reaching a hand out to pat her back.

She looks up at me, and I shy away from her, my mouth open in horror. Her curls are getting wispier and shrinking before my very eyes. Her face is growing thinner and getting wrinkles. My eyes can't get any wider, and no words are able to leave my mouth. Lizzie is deteriorating right in front of me, and I'm not able to do anything to stop it. She looks physically weaker by the second, and I don't understand what was happening. She stretches out a feeble hand towards me, but I can't bring myself to move closer to her. She's frightening me.

Then, it hits me as she reaches the point that she can't support her weight that she is crumbling due to her disease. She was healthy when she jumped on me and woke me up. But now, she is dying. My breath catches in my throat. She is dying in the span of a couple of minutes. Blinking slowly, her sad gaze cuts through to my core.

That was when I scream and wake up in a pile of sticky sheets. I half expect to see Lizzie's curled up body on my floor, but it truly was a nightmare, a horribly vivid nightmare. Heavy footsteps race down the hallway, and my dad bursts into my room without any warning.

“What's wrong?” he asks urgently.

I honestly consider telling him that I had a nightmare. I don't plan on saying that I'm okay. He deserves an answer, and I can't convince him that I'm fine when I screamed so loudly. But, when I hear his question, the same one that I asked Lizzie just a moment ago, and open my mouth to answer, I empty the contents of my stomach instead.

“Geez, Piper,” my dad mutters and runs out of the room.

He's back a moment later with a trash can and a cool rag. I get out of my bed, careful to avoid to my mess, and stagger to the bathroom. I collapse onto the cool tile by the toilet and try to stop my stomach from reeling. I close my eyes in an attempt to recover from the vivid image of Lizzie, but it appears again behind my eyelids. A cool, wet something is pressed against my forehead, and I open my eyes to look at my dad. His face is stricken with worry.