Dreams

I woke up with my head throbbing painfully as if a troll had hit me several times on the head last night. Yesterday's events welcomed themselves more painfully, I remembered the drawings, my mother's and Sam's conversation, and lastly the gleaming red eyes of the cat. My room was a mess as before. With a groan, I half dragged myself into the bathroom one look at myself made me smirk. My hair was in a hopeless mess of black, I think I drool in my sleep cause there were some left, the worst thing is I have morning breath, well I agree not a pleasant sight to see in the morning. I was smirking because I thought of what my mother would say or her disapproving glare.

After almost an hour I was descending the stairs my spirits unusually high. My mother was surprised to see me happy too but she just smiled. Emma came bouncing down the stairs in her usual spirits.

" What happened to you two?" she inquired as she filled the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil. I could hear the strain in her voice and the lines on her face have become more pronounced than ever. She was wearing a black frock with small black diamonds glinting whenever she moved. Her hair was tied up in a tight knot on the top of her head.

" Mommy last night I saw a wizard in my room with you." There was clutter and a splash as she dropped the kettle white-faced. The water was spilled on the floor with the kettle beside it. Surprised I got up to bring a mop. When I returned my mother hasn't moved from her place and Emma was eating her breakfast silently. Still bewildered I started mopping glancing sideways at my mother who was standing as if she were a statue. After finishing I went to stand beside her and put a hand on her shoulder only to startle her.

"It's okay mom," I tried soothing her with words but I always have been a terrible speaker, I tended to say wrong things at the wrong time. She had the face someone shows when they were caught doing something they shouldn't. Emma has finished eating and was watching us with wide luminous brown eyes. Biting my lip I sat down next to my mother and beckoned Emma to come but she just shook her head and run up the stairs. After a few moments of awkward silence, with me thinking of the things I should say, Emma came down with her pencils and paper. As I watched her she spread her contents on the table I couldn't help but notice that her eyes were glassy with a faraway look.

She began drawing with her eyes focused on the paper but not on it at the same time and with the swiftness, I never associated with her. The pencil never seemed to touch the paper instead it looked as if it were skimming it lightly leaving traces of lead behind it. From the place I was crouched, I could tell that she was drawing intently from the way she was holding her pencil or from the way she knits her eyebrows together whenever she is focusing on something. Even though her sketches are a little odd for an 8-year-old, I couldn't help but admire how real they looked or how perfect she could place the right emotions on paper, like the lines that appear on my mom's forehead whenever she is worried, or how Sam's eyes kind of glint whenever he is happy. Her drawings gave the impression that they were alive and feeling whatever the real one is feeling.

My mother was still underneath my arm and she had covered her face with her hands. I looked up the ceiling and thought of the day my life took a wrong turn since when did my mother become shocked by the words of an 8-year-old. Wizards aren't real they are something authors imagine to make their stories better, how could anyone possess such great power and not still be detected by us? The condition my mother is in makes me doubt that Emma said something a normal child would say if even if what she said was true my mother would have waved it away as something nonsense unless.... no I won't travel that train of thoughts who knows where it could lead me. Since I was a child my mother always supported me to read about magic or fantasy books, but she always advises me not to get obsessed with them.

I was startled out of my reverie when my mother sprang and took the drawing from the table with wild eyes. Emma had sat and was looking at her with something like pity and fear. I got up and went closer to see the drawing but my mother hid it and ran up the stairs probably to call Sam. I looked down at Emma for any clue, she just only shook her head and went to get her bag. I stood alone in the kitchen wondering what kind of life I am in. If only my father was here ..... I don't even know what he would do. I felt the same feeling of emptiness in my chest whenever I thought about my father like somehow my heart doesn't accept that he is dead.

Emma came with her pink bag bouncing on her back. "Let's go" she muttered in a low voice. I just looked at her perplexed, however angry my mother might be she never dwindled her ecstatic nature she went out the hallway half dragging her legs the whole way, I heard the door slam shut a little while after. With a deep sigh, I went to retrieve my bag too. On my way out I called to mom that we were going to school but I received no response.

The moment I opened the door I was greeted with cold air blowing my face along with the smell of pine woods, the leaves were a beautiful sight to look at with red, orange, and yellow leaves falling from the trees and covering the whole ground like a frozen lake but instead of snow, it was covered with leaves. The only thing that damaged the atmosphere was Emma's grumpy mood. Her beautiful face was distorted by the scowl she was wearing. She huffed and started walking her arms tightly crossed around her. Perplexed I started walking fast to keep up with her, she is really fast for an 8-year-old, her long braids were swinging when she turned her head to me.

" Can't you be a bit faster" she snapped her eyes red from anger or probably from crying. This is not the Emma I have always known growing up that Emma was kind-hearted, good-natured, and fun to be around, whilst this Emma was sour tempered and had some kind of fire in her that terrified me. She was glaring at everyone who had the courage to look at her straight in the eye. I tried to keep a low profile but almost everyone in town knows she is my sister. The old kind man who greets us every time we pass by his house tried giving her a smile which she returned with a cold stare. I muttered an apology under my breath which he waved away heartily. We were approaching the school now and I could see Clare, her flaming red hair visible above anyone else, waving at me. I glanced at Emma but she just huffed and walked towards the old elm tree she always sits under whenever she is sad or in this case angry. I felt some kind of sympathy towards her because we both don't know what is happening with my mother or what's happening at all. I started to move to her only to be blocked by a figure with red hair and clear blue eyes. She was a bit shorter than me with many freckles on her face.

" Didn't you see me waving" she demanded putting her hands on her hips.

" I- did but Emma..."

" Emma what?"

" Jeez girl what's wrong with you today"

" What do you mean?" she narrowed her eyes

"You have gone somehow kind of protective over me"

" And may I ask how?"

"You are literally blocking my path to my sister"

"Oh I didn't mean to," she said relaxing her hands a bit, "I thought-"

"You thought what?"

"Never mind, what's with your sister though"

"I have no idea"

That was when I saw it, the snow-white fur, razor-sharp claws, and black eyes. Black eyes? isn't it unusual to have black eyes and wasn't it red the last time I saw it?

"Move" I took her by the arms and started leading her into the school. I glanced back to see its eyes following me across the field across from a big mass of students calling to their friends loudly or laughing at jokes one of them made. There were the popular girls who were looking at everyone with a disgusted look and muttering things to each other. Their eyes softened at the boys who were built like a tank. The athletic ones were all standing in a big group and talking heatedly probably about sports and accusing one another by jamming their index finger in the chest. The class clowns were laughing at some jokes one of them made. Everything seemed to be organized and fit into some category, while not me.

I tore my eyes and strode forward with a protesting flaming human at my heels. " Let go of me, help she is kidnapping me"

People were staring at us through the hallways to a point of uneasiness. I kept dragging her up to the library on the second floor to only let go of her unceremoniously and look out the window. The cat was sitting like a statue I saw in one of our History books where ancient Egyptians created statues of them. Its dark eyes fixed intently upon me.

" Come, Claire," I whispered for some reason not wanting to break eye contact

" For you throw me out the window, no thank you"

"Just come " the order in my voice was crystal clear.

I saw her coming near me with a hesitant look on her face and rubbing her wrists idly. She looked out the window and I saw something strange flash over her face too fast I thought I was imagining it she looked at me as if I were the most bizarre thing in the world and her face broke into a big smile. " I know what is wrong with you today" her voice was suspiciously sweet.

"Huh? You do?"

" Of course I do I am your best friend, I know everything there is about you"

" That was creepy"

" Creepy? Don't you dare deny that I know everything there is about you?"

" No you don't know anything," I said firmly out of curiosity for what she was going to say and half out of fear for what if she is right what if she knows everything, how absurd of course she doesn't know she is just messing with my head.

Her smile was the most menacing one I ever have seen plastered on her face. " I know that you wake up every morning your face full of drools, I know that you walk in your sleep, I know that there is something hidden underneath-" I quickly covered her mouth with both my hands and looked frantically if any other person has heard our conversation but thankfully there was no one except a boy with white hair looking at "A Tale of two cities" with upmost curiosity visible in his clear blue eyes and the old librarian with her head in her arms probably sleeping. The white-haired boy was the one who had caught my attention I am sure I have never seen him before. The moment he raised his head I was transfixed to my place with a pair of clear blue eyes. I could feel the heat increasing by some degrees between the space between us.

Blood was rushing to my face when my eyes took in the whole structure of his face starting from the small strands of white hair falling into his eyes, high cheekbones, thin lips, dark lashes, and pale skin. He looked like a fairy prince, in reality, he looked alien and somehow familiar. That was when a spark ignited in my head I have seen him as one of my sister's drawings, I wonder how she drew him he looked new she couldn't have met him, it was impossible, well things are getting impossible in my life to comprehend so it won't be a big surprise if she knew him.

Then he smirked, which made me blush furiously as if he knew what kind of effect he was having on me. I lowered my head in embarassment that was when I realized that I was still holding Claire's mouth, I lowered them slowly and muttered an apology under my breath. She was looking at me her eyes wide she grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the library.

All the way I could feel eyes following.