Authors: Kathy-Lynn Cross
Backup Plan D was a ladder buried in the bushes on the side of the house hidden from the street. If anyone wanted to steal anything, they would only make off with a few TVs, two computers that were about six years old, and a game system I was willing to sacrifice. My mom and dad took their laptops everywhere, so anything worthwhile would be on their person.
After I had climbed through the open window, my hip bumped the side of the vanity table, causing me to lose balance and face-plant into the carpet. A couple of eyeliners and a base makeup case landed on the hardwood floor by the rug. Luckily, those items and my thigh, which sported a three-inch gash, were the only causalities. The black Guess jeans I was wearing came through unscathed. Much to my surprise, even with all the commotion, my parents never asked about anything the next morning.
Gigi sneezed making my body jolt. Perched in the corner by the dresser was a gift from dad. A hand-blown hourglass filled with fine onyx sand was emptying its used seconds. Another reminder that time was of the essence. Scooping up the blue-black eyeliner from the floor, I added the finishing touches to the glass portrait. I pressed up close to the full-length mirror to get a better view of my ever changing eyes and traced a thick black line around the upper and lower lids.
Only a mother such as mine could say she loved my eyes because they acted like a mood ring, always changing colors to match my disposition. Ordinarily, my eyes were a bright sky blue that faded to a ring of dark green around the pupils.
But geez, talk about being cursed with open windows to the mind.
I brushed the thought away with the glitter powder I put on both eyelids. This particular design made them appear more catlike. Then, I used my right ring finger to swipe lightly under the lower lashes to remove any smudges.
Content with the bold look, I snatched the wayward mascara again, immediately opening my mouth to begin the last process. Carefully, I applied it to each feathered row of thick, long lashes. “Thanks, Mom,” I thought while concentrating on the right lower rim when I heard the muffled tone to “Shout at the Devil.”
A short gasp came from between pale rose-colored lips. My poor cell had been buried alive and was now somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes singing for help. While waving all ten silver tipped nails in the air, I walked over to the bed in a huff of frustration.
“Great. Now he calls,” I mumbled as I tossed myself onto my bed to dig out the beckoning cell phone. Slipping fingers under the purple and black zebra print pillow, I wrapped them around the slender, metallic green cell. It fell silent as it started to vibrate. Tod had left me a text message instead.
Tod: In driveway Rdy 2 go?
Me: B in a jif
Tod: Stopping 4 beer – get your a$$ moving
Me: B thr in 5. Need smokes 2
His reply came with the monster truck’s deep revving engine, demanding my presence.
Damn, he needs to cool off with a beer soon or our night’s gonna be hell.
We didn’t need to start the date with a fight.
I gave my mirror the once-over to make sure the look was presentable before running down the stairs to my parents’ room. Rae-Lynn considered it off limits to me. Busting through the door, I slammed the door knob into the wall making a hole the size of a small fist. Rushing was never advised because I lacked coordination, possibly from a disconnected wire somewhere between my eyes and both feet. Breathing slower, I checked the closet door. Thankfully, it was unlocked. Offering myself a pat on the back for courage, I opened it. Digging toward the back where she kept the
no longer in style
items, I found Mom’s black Coach Amina high heels. Her black Coach Signature Clip Demi Flap bag complemented my outer wrapper. Thank the stars we wore the same sizes because it doubled my wardrobe… as long as she didn’t find out about my system of borrowing.
Sprinting back upstairs to gather my list of needs: real ID, fake ID, wallet, extra makeup, I kept only necessities. Mentally, I checked off each item and gathered everything together to dump into the purse. Opening the bottom drawer to the dresser, I grabbed the tampon box from under my
time-of-the-month
panties to dig out the hidden cash stash. To my way of thinking, most robbers would not take the time to look through feminine hygiene products to score. I pulled a wad of bills out, crammed it into the zipper pocket, and flipped the flap to lock it. With a finger looped through the heel straps, I carried them downstairs, punched in the code on the wall lockbox and waited for the beep. The door popped open.
A silver key ring with a calligraphy style “A” sparkled in greeting. The coolness of the metal ignited a wish for a vehicle of my own, but then again… I wouldn’t be able to indulge the drink. It was not up to me to judge others if they made the wrong intoxicated choice to risk losing their rides. Freedom was a responsibility just slightly out of reach as I pictured a silver Jeep with chrome rims and light gray microfiber interior. In Vegas, leather would give me second-degree burns. My cell phone belted out Tod’s ringtone from a distance, interrupting my daydream.
Jutting out my lower lip, I puffed a stray curl out of my eyes. The cell was still in my room. Pissed at forgetting it, I dropped everything to bolt back up the stairs, bare feet hitting every other step. Tripping over the mountain of clothes, I heard Gigi’s low growl of protest from the disturbance. Snatching the phone from the bed at the same time a twinkle from the hourglass caught my eye. Still in the moment, I watched the last portion of sparkly black sand continue to pour over the small hill. Less than a minute of sand left before the last grain fell. Time pressed, and I yelled at the dog to get out while using a free hand to push against her butt. Wonderful. Drool all over my gym socks. Gross. Then I slammed the door so the miniature horse would get the hint to stay out.
Once again, my feet flew down the steps. By the time they hit the last stair, I was out of breath. After bending down to gather up everything, I stood and snagged the key ring from the hook, closed the key box and opened the front door. Right then, Tod laid on the horn, making my body jerk as if it tried to cough up my heart.
“I’m coming. Damn. Be right there. Still have to lock up.” He was either talking under his breath or singing with the Metallica song blaring out of the vehicle windows. His eyes were dark with impatience as his fingers drummed to the song.
I locked up and ran on my tiptoes down the paved drive to the passenger side of the truck. Before I got there, he reached across to push the door open. Dangling the purse and shoes, I rose up into the truck and tossed everything onto the seat. Tod leaned forward to help, and then met my lips with a quick peck. Yeah, he was pretty pissed off, but damn, my chest was aching from the two hundred yard dash, with stairs no less. I pulled the seatbelt across my chest and snapped it in place. “Let’s go.”
Within three seconds of the word
go,
Tod gunned the engine again, fixed the rearview mirror, and flashed me a half smile.
While all of this was transpiring, she remained unaware of my presence. With the chill of death so close to her, I figured by now the Child-of-Balance would have noticed our essence. The hood inched lower over my brow to frame both eyes as I observed the child and her playmate from her bedroom window. The cloak mimicked my movement as I turned to the hourglass. With narrowed focus on the hairline stream of black sand fading from sight, I followed the last grain to its final resting place. Licking dried lips, I smiled. “Time’s up.”
Writing in my books is therapeutic but guiding you into one of my nightmares… priceless.
~Alexcia
I hadn’t always been a party girl. The shortage of rest sometimes got me to the point of desperation even if that meant numbing my brain every night. Maybe the sandman on this route dreaded what lay behind closed lids to deliver his dose of slumber without liquid help from Bud or Miller… or Jack, if the night was really bad. I was under the impression that if I didn’t knock myself out every night, my fate would either be in a straitjacket conversing with walls or found dead somewhere. When unconsciousness took over naturally, the dreams dragged the unwilling conscious into a realm of confusion and pain. On most nights, that side of me woke up in a completely different part of the house, bloody and bruised. At least on the terror-filled nights, I’d find myself frozen beneath the sheets. When I spoke of
frozen
related to my sheets, I did not mean metaphorically… literally the sheets are encased in frozen sweat droplets formed over skin and my breath was visible in the moonlight.
To give you hindsight about the cursed beings within the nightmares, picture death’s winged creatures, who at first glance, resembled stone gargoyles or mythical dragons. With closer observation, their forms changed into cloaked humans with webbed wings. Mrs. Curiosity then pushed me toward the creatures instead of away from them. When each foot inched closer, I always ran away after noticing their cloaks move and slither, shift and shimmer as if they were alive.
One of the creatures in particular broke my resolve, no matter how hard I tried to scream or break from his bond. The situation had become problematic as his presence devolved my will within the dreams. And this might sound crazy but he was
hot
. When he appeared behind closed eyelids, he could suck the air right out of me, similar to backdraft of a large fire. The way I reacted to this creature made me speculate if I really needed to breathe air in dreams.
It had all started on the night of my fifteenth birthday when the torturous, realistic dreams touched upon an untapped world. The terror visions could not enter my subconscious when I was chemically passed out… a prisoner locked within a caged mind to relive the same frightful dream pattern. With a nervous laugh and a bit of rationalizing, I convinced my brain that it hadn’t detached from the nightmare, yet.
To this day, I wake up feeling the little neck hairs stand at attention from his icy breath lingering at the base of my skull, and both legs spontaneously jump me out of bed to open up the black drapes. Street lamps can chase away the shadows posing as demons.
On a few nights, if I was having a dream-terror within a nightmare, the shadowed creatures would hiss from the dull streams of light that passed through the drapes.
Every night before slipping into a REM state of sleep, a falling-forward sensation hit me before the dreams started. This was baffling because most people have the feeling of falling backward and jolting themselves awake before they hit the bottom. But, oh no, not me. The tingling spread throughout my body similar to being sucked into a vacuum, depositing me in an unfamiliar setting; the uncertainty was maddening. This dream state switched my mind on autopilot, guiding me to the same place every time.
The atmosphere was filled with an electrical buzz all around. A touch of warmth lingered in the hands of innocence as it drifted along with the sunlight, kissing the top of the trees goodnight. Tears filled my eyes as I watched the sudden change of scenery become more sinister. The rose colored clouds lost their inviting glow, mutating as they fell to the ground, heavy with moisture. Barefoot, I could feel the way the pebbles in the dirt pressed against the underside of my feet as I walked aimlessly. With the sense of my safety sinking with the sun, I always knew how the dreams would end, with two kinds of sorrow.
The mountain air dropped in temperature as the sun made its last appearance for the day. I hugged my shoulders in a cool embrace, and I remembered an image of a man standing on the edge of the ridge above me. Huge rocks stacked above him outlined an opening to a cave. He held up his hands, giving me the impression he wanted to pull the shiny orb back down so the shadows could consume it.
The sun’s demise gave this demon a small thrill as though he enjoyed a game of
What If
. His eyes were ablaze with the possible expiration of mankind so there would be no need for his kind to exist anymore. Somehow, I could sense his thoughts as he pondered.
Would he, as a demon, be able to rest in peace?
Could they find bliss in their death?
Terror wove its way into my mind from being able to hear his thoughts. I found it baffling, though the effect his voice had on my body left me to assume it was responding to his power. A quiet, passive laugh from the back of his throat snaked past those perfect lips, and I became fascinated by how his tongue danced behind white teeth. An odd reddish purple shade licked slowly over lips and hungrily enticed unfounded physical desires. I assumed he dreamed of sharing them with me.
The demon stretched his arms straight up and over his head. Then in an arc, he flexed his shoulder muscles down to the etched six-pack. I held back the urge to trace it with my fingers. A sheer black mist from the ground quivered and swirled around his body. My eyes widened, observing the blades of grass under this creature’s feet wither and die. Air lightly deposited the disintegrated ash into his space. Studying the dust-like snowflakes dancing around him, I tried to force myself to ignore the slight wave of his ebony hair as the moonlight enhanced each rusted tip. Closing in mid blink, I reached out to him wanting to weave my fingers through it.
No matter what I did, the demon always seemed aware of everything but would never look down at me. I pictured him scanning the horizon as though expecting to see something or maybe someone. Taking a shaky breath, I cracked both lids. He turned to me, gesturing to come closer. I was surprised to find fear had grown into fascination. The sight of him caused an ache that radiated to the back of both eye sockets from trying to absorb so much of him at once. Even with his perfect features, I noticed a few abnormalities. His lips were a frost-kissed gray, and his nose was slightly crooked to the right. But the gravity of his indigo eyes was so intense, I couldn’t stop staring.
The dark creature slowly broke his connection with me by closing his own eyes, keeping secrets for him alone to endure. When they reopened, a haunting sensation appeared, as though he had lost a part of what he was. The vibrant color had been replaced by detachment. His eyes shed tarry tears, turning the irises and pupils a dead black-on-black. Inside the darkness, a sea of white smoke was held at bay with complete self-control. Standing about seven feet tall, the width of his shoulders perfectly matched his build, completing the outer armor. The last hint of sun made his grey skin glow as the night’s dew glistened against his tightly flexed body.
The place where he stood fell silent in the forest around him. All creatures waited for his next move. Darkness from the shadows through the trees grew from the lack of sunlight. Twigs snapped and dead leaves crunched under lead feet. More of his kind were coming and the demon prepared for his confrontation.
The same oozing black mist found its way from under fallen trees, boulders, and brush. It covered the ground, chilling me to the bone. Hearing the beat of my hammering heart was excruciating as I pressed palms into the groves above each cheek, wishing for the throbbing to stop. Blood in my veins drummed with a beat that called out to the dead. I was in agony, clutching both hands to my chest, willing for it to quit before the creatures could hear how near I was. Each vein ran thick with panic, and my heart choked to stop its screams.
Instinctively, I wiped the warm trickles of tears. A thought flashed from memory. No, it was blood… bright, red liquid stained my fingers and pooled under some of the nails when I brushed them against my cheeks. Summoning the strength to gaze at him, I found comfort from the demon’s stare. Anxiety filled me while tearing apart from our shared moment and frantically surveying the woods.
Swirls of opaque smoke burned my throat and lungs, finding refuge within the strained organs. Pain accompanied with blurred vision made it difficult to focus. Not being able to breathe properly kept my crying down to a small whimper. I forced the pumping organ to slow as my head swam in thoughts. I fell to the dirt, knees first, upper body slumping forward. Desperate for the constant pounding of my head to cease, I prayed for someone or something to make it stop. My arms felt as if water were holding them down. I shook them. Everything happened in slow motion.
A hollow scream echoed from the dense forest in front of me. Other demons existed too? Even if he weren’t here to save me, why didn’t he at least get rid of the pain for me? Frustration superseded the panic now. Not knowing where I was, or what was to become of me, I felt completely vulnerable. I’d never thought of myself as helpless in any form, sober or drunk. But here I was, paralyzed with a murky feeling of dread for what was about to happen next. Somewhere, deep inside, a voice cursed for not drinking enough man-made elixir before resting my head tonight.
Wondering how to get out of the grave nightmare, his unknown whereabouts filled me with apprehension and dread. My prime concern stemmed from a sense the creatures wanted to hurt him. The dread came because I didn’t want him to lose control and kill me instead. As more seconds ticked away, the fear solidified the possibility of being trapped in that location with all of them.
One thing I was sure of… I didn’t want to stick around.
Those creatures scared me to death. Yet, my heart was trying to speak to me in between the sobs. I had become lost without this demon’s help as if there could be no future, not only mine, but everyone’s. For me, my life had little meaning, leaving me to question why I had to relive this torment every night. Time drifted in reverse, and I was afraid I might lose my will to exist. I faced my own reality that I was in a place buried beyond blood and bone. A voice very faintly gnawed at me about survival, to keep something in check.
I mentally questioned the voice.
What was my purpose? Why was I being continually haunted by these dreams and drawn to this place and these creatures?
Silence was my answer. More questions bounced around in my brain. Hopelessness ate at the core of my being. My hands found their way into my hair and I began to pull at it while I tried to understand the meaning of this encrypted dream. In my mind, a war raged between knowledge and confusion. I was losing my sanity from the lack of answers, so I gritted my teeth to bite back the screams building from inside my body. If I was really going insane, that was the least of my problems. If I hadn’t already, it would be a chance for me to break free.
A faraway sound brought me back to my own Wonderland of Hell. Totally obsessed with searching for my rabbit of death, I didn’t even realize it was leading me, not to a locked door, but to my grave. I expected the creatures above me weren’t coming for tea.
To the left, deep throaty screeches came from the top of the pines and gained intensity in volume. I used sheer terror to fuel my drive to live. Digging hands and nails into the ground, I forced myself to move, drawing both legs into a crouch, knees under my chest. I shot up like a spring and ran in the opposite direction of the screeching. Fear drove the cool thickness of air past both cracked lips as the burn seeped into my muscles. It created a movement that resembled the way I had always pictured the sound of thunder, not the aftermath of a lighting strike but as a huge, unseen dragon with force and strength behind it.
The curls in my hair had been replaced with tangles from tears and sweat. My hands and nails appeared as though I had driven them into an animal, from wiping away my gooey tears. Blood around the rims of each eye had produced hardened, itchy streaks down my face. I pictured myself as an undead in the latest horror flick, searching the night for a soul.
Although the haze had blinded me before it began to dissipate, I ran faster now that I visualized a path and the sense of direction. It was just the adrenaline boost I needed. Picking up the pace, I soon realized my body was driving me straight for the black mist I’d seen at the beginning of the dream. I had run in a complete circle and yet I felt misplaced. As the mist grew thicker, denser, I continued to move deeper into the forest. The fog took on an odd incandescence as it pulsed in anticipation.
Was it expecting me?
Small, curling wisps of black stretched up from the ooze that resembled melted eggplant. The whole scene gave the appearance of specters inviting participants to join them in a game of Hide and Seek through the trees and bushes. A crackling, similar to a match striking, came from the surrounding umbra. Sparks emanated from the oozing, colored mist. Within seconds, the bark around the base of the pines became engulfed in an unholy fire.
Terror worked its way down and found my inner brakes. Whipping both arms out like sails, they demanded my body stop before reaching the other side of the forest. When I spotted the demon on the other side of the blaze, my eyes filled with liquid determination. His hands reached out motioning for me to hurry. Anxiety, dread, and horror found a room next to fearfulness. It was an emotional, dark gift only he could give if I continued running toward him.
Crashing limbs from the trees behind me was the final push I needed to maintain forward progress. The creatures he was expecting had finally arrived. A sweeping wind from their wings as they landed caused me to stumble. I glanced up to survey the surroundings as I started to fall. I couldn’t help myself from locking eyes with him. My hearing cut out. Now a star in a silent film, I mouthed his name in a small plea for help. He stopped gravity’s pull by catching me inches from the flames. Heat licked over my skin; the smell of it made my stomach turn.