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Dinner at the Diner

A cold hand crept on up my shoulder. Clammy fingers wrapped themselves on the back of my neck, squeezing the skin at the back, making me choke. A low snicker, a sound like a the deep rumble before an earthquake, or the growl of an untamed, dangerous beast.

So you'll defy me? I'm afraid you cannot do very much. I have the power to crush you in an instant. You aren't even mentally prepared for the horrors that lie ahead. Let's make a deal-

" M'hija , m'hija..."

I woke up in cold sweat. Mum had a worried look on her face. Veronica was awake, panic stricken. I looked at them quizzically. Was it my hair? Did I have blood on my face? Was there a spider on my nose?

"What happened?" I asked.

"You were, you were screaming, not like the normal scream, but as if someone was choking you. You were trying to say something but I couldn't understand it." Veronica explained.

"I don't remember shouting."

"M'hija, you were asleep."

Had it been the nightmare? It was funny, because just two moments ago, the picture of me being choked by someone was fresh and clear in my head, but now it just felt like a big blank. It was as if it had been completely erased from my memory. Things like this had happened before, but I had always managed to remember snippets and scenes from the dream, or nightmare for that matter.

"It was a bad dream." I said, ending the conversation. Mum nodded and looked on ahead. She hated to force me into saying anything that I didn't want to discuss.

"Listen girls, we're almost there. Brush your hair and look presentable."

"Yes, madre." Said Ronnie.

I nodded. As I tried to unfrizz my hair, it turned static, shocking my fingers. I yelped in pain and removed my hand from anywhere near my hair, which was almost impossible, because it was practically floating around everywhere, sticking to the leather seats of the limousine. Veronica obliged. She dipped a comb in a glass of water which she took out of the mini refrigerator. She slowly combed my hair with the soaked implement and I felt the radical strands of my lilac hair float down. I muttered a word of gratitude and pulled the hood of my hoodie back on.

It was late in the afternoon. The golden sun was now beginning to dim. The limo pulled up in front of a mansion-like house. It had cream walls with golden metal highlights. Gleaming glass windows and doors shone with a glorious reflection. A few birch trees were growing in prim and perfect lines, fenced the house with a protective aura. A gold plate above the main entrance read, "The Pembrooke". A red carpet lay rolled out in wait for someone to walk on it. I guessed that was us.

That much for the wife and daughters of a notorious criminal, was too much.

Mum got out first, her dark hair swept across her satin covered back. Veronica jumped out next. She flicked her licorice out of her face, and with her usual attitude, she flounced off to The Pembrooke. I, the one who lacks grace the most, threw open the car door in the driver's face. I placed a sturdy foot on the sidewalk and balanced myself on it. As I pulled myself up, I hit my head on the car. Perfect. Just clumsy old me. I pulled out my galaxy Star Wars backpack and ran up the stairs leading up to the house known as The Pembrooke.

When I reached inside, I saw a butler wearing a maroon outfit. He looked elated at the fact that Hermione Lodge was back at Riverdale.

"Girls, this is Smithers. He has been with me throughout my childhood." Veronica scrutinized the house. "Yes Veronica, this is slightly small, but it makes the cut," and in a lower voice she said, "more because the property has my name on it, not your father's." I smirked. Mum was being independent. Father probably still didn't know that we had shifted. But then again, Hiram Lodge was very, very resourceful.