Book:1
I woke up to the familiar feeling of fear, my heart racing as I struggled to catch my breath. The remnants of my nightmare lingered, refusing to be shaken off. I'd been having these dreams for three years now, and they were getting worse. The darkness, the running, the feeling of being chased – it was all so vivid.
As I sat up in bed, my legs tangled in the sheets, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and planted my feet firmly on the ground. The cool floorboards beneath my feet helped calm my racing thoughts.
I stood up, feeling a bit shaky, and began to walk towards the shower. My eyes fixed on the door leading to the toilet, but my feet had other plans. I hadn't noticed that my left foot was still tangled in the sheet, and it yanked me backward. I tried to regain my balance, but it was too late. I tripped and fell, my body twisting awkwardly.
I landed hard on my left side, the familiar ache in my stump radiating outward like a shockwave. "I'm okay," I said quickly, scrambling to my feet despite the lingering pain. But as I stood up, I realized that no one had actually asked me if I was alright.
A few stray strands from my curly bob had fallen into my mouth, and I spat them out, wincing at the bitter taste. I headed to the shower in my room, the warm water washing away the lingering fear and discomfort.
As I got dressed, I grabbed my school bag and headed out of my room. The aroma of lemon porridge wafted through the corridor, enticing me to the kitchen. Laura was already up and about, cooking up a storm.
Just as I was about to enter the kitchen, Laura sprang into action, camera in hand. She snapped a photo of me, catching me off guard with a silly expression. "This one's going in the album for sure!" Laura exclaimed, giggling as she walked away.
I followed Laura to the kitchen, which doubled as our living room. Our two-bedroom house was cozy, with a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a comfortable living area. The kitchen table sat in the middle of the room, with a large cupboard against one wall, a small sink, and a compact fridge.
As we sat down to eat, Laura asked, "So, how's the porridge? Is it okay?" I took a mouthful of the porridge, savoring the warm, comforting flavors. "It's great, Laura. Thanks for making it."
We chatted for a bit about school and my first day, but then I fell silent for a minute, almost zoning out of the conversation. Concern etched on her face, Laura asked, "Hey, you okay?" I nodded, trying to brush it off. But my mind was already racing. These nightmares were getting worse.
Laura disappeared for a few moments, only to return with her hands behind her back. A sly smile spread across her face as she stood before me, waiting for me to ask what she was up to. But I wasn't going to fall for this game so easily. I kept quiet, glanced at the clock, and continued eating, pretending Laura wasn't there.
Eventually, Laura cleared her throat to get my attention. I looked up, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Is everything okay?" Laura pouted, "Nah, you're not fun anymore." She brought her hands forward, closed, and asked me to pick one.
I hesitated for a moment before doing as I was told. I picked one of her hands, and Laura opened it, revealing a small pendant inside. It was a silver rectangle with my name, "Alex," elegantly engraved on its surface. Laura handed it to me, saying, "If you ever feel alone, just whisper my name into it."
I examined the pendant more closely. It was light, rectangular in shape, and made of silver. But as I held it in my hand, I noticed something odd – the metal felt cold, freezing cold, as if it had been stored in the refrigerator. I shrugged it off and took the pendant anyway. I whispered Laura's name three times into it, and we both erupted in laughter. "I think it's broken," I teased.
Laura offered to put the pendant on for me. She bent over, leaned close, and effortlessly tied it around my neck. Her deep blue eyes sparkled with happiness, a joy I hadn't seen in her for a while. After securing the pendant, she pulled back and told me to finish up. I took my plate to the sink to wash it, but Laura insisted on doing it herself.
"I'm not cooking tonight, though," I said with a grin. Laura chuckled and replied, "Don't worry about it." Hearing that, I gave her a quick hug, grabbed my bag, and headed out.