Insight (Web of Hearts and Souls #1)(3)

In a couple weeks, she is sending me to an art school in New York. The thought of having a nightmare so far from home is terrifying in and of itself. I felt the pain of fear swell in my chest. I had to figure out how to get out of these dreams she had planned for me.

At this point my wrist was red and raw. The star was still there. I splashed water on my face then stared into the mirror, trying to look past my emerald green eyes. I wanted to see the answers somewhere inside of me. All I saw was a girl trying to get from one breath to the next. And I hated that. I should be stronger than this. Something told me that the time for me to hide from this was ending. There is nothing worse than knowing that hell is charging toward you and there is nothing you can do to stop its approach.

I could feel my parents downstairs. They were filled with a sense of urgency and panic. I took a deep breath, wishing that I could change the emotions of the ones around me. If I could, I would go down there and move them back to the peace and excitement that belonged to them.

I dried my face off and put lotion on my tattoo, trying to ease the burn. I then turned off the light and opened the door, just wanting to go to my room and hide. I could hear my parents whispering at the bottom of the stairs. I looked over the banister to see my father fully dressed. He was trying to calm my mother down, but he was having little success. He grabbed his keys and kissed her before opening the front door to leave.

My own confusion outweighed the stunned emotion my mother was feeling as she stared at the closed door.

“Mom?” I said with a crack in my voice as I slowly walked to the stairs.

My voice startled her. She jumped and looked up at me. With a fake smile filling her face, she tried to find the familiar excitement that her emotion usually carried. She reached back and pulled down her long dark hair, trying to hide the red blemish that always surfaces on her chest when she’s hiding something.

“Where’s Dad going?”

She glanced down, then back up at me, trying to find words that would not be completely untruthful.

“Um, he…well, you see, he had to go meet someone. At the, at the hospital,” she answered with a shaking voice as she pulled her robe closed.

“It’s, like, two in the morning,” I protested, halting halfway down the stairs.

My mother’s eyes fell to my tattoo. I felt a surge of fear as she saw the new addition. Not feeling like trying to explain it, I casually moved my arm behind my back.

“Honey, you know how good a doctor he is. They just need him. It’s nothing really,” she said, clearly trying to convince herself of the lie she spoke.

My father is an amazing doctor. He never really prescribes medicine or has to run painful tests to find a cure. He just seems to know what’s wrong and how to heal it. People come from every state just to see him. So, I almost believed her for a moment, that is, until I felt a dread rise inside her.

I was about to get angry when I heard my baby sister’s bedroom door open at the other end of the hall. Only six, Libby is a lot like my mother. They both live with a constant child-like excitement rushing through them. Squinting her dark eyes in the light of the hall, Libby pushed her long, dark, tangled hair out of her face.

“Is it time to get up?” she asked me.

Seeing her way out of having to answer any more of my questions, my mother climbed the stairs hastily.

“No, baby girl, Daddy just had to go help someone,” she answered in the sweet tone she always used with Libby.

I felt Libby’s confusion. Even she knew that that was odd.

My mother reached Libby and took her hand. “Come on, sweetie, I’ll lay with you,” my mother said to her, guiding her into her room.

Libby looked back at me. I shrugged my shoulders, letting her know that I didn’t understand either.

I stood awestruck for a moment before going back to my room. Leaving the light on I climbed under my covers. Immediately my mind went back to the words that the figure had said: “I will find you now.” The details of the nightmares, the images, and feeling people around me are traits that I’ve always kept to myself. Mainly, out of fear that my family will think that I’m insane if I tell them. Who needed that on top of everything else? Not me.

As a child, I only had nightmares during a new moon, but every single night I dreamt of another place. There I always found the same person. I cannot recall a single day of my life that I have not seen him.

This intoxicating person has always mesmerized me with his intense blue eyes, which give way to perfect lips highlighted by sensual dimples that come to life when he smiles at me. His shoulders are broad. His tall frame is lean with sleek muscles. His entire demeanor is near stoic. My soul told me that he could and would protect me from the evil that has targeted me for no apparent reason at all.

I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, holding his image in my mind, hoping this time that I’d find him instead of the unexpected horror that I’d already faced that night.

I slowly opened my eyes to a bright sunlit field. Relief swept through me as I started to search for the one who gave me peace—my blue-eyed boy.

It felt like I belonged there, like it belonged to me. There was only one flaw—utter silence. I had never heard the voice of the one I love. Everything looked so pure, innocent. The grass, trees, and flowers smelled so sweet. The birds and butterflies drifted silently through the air. A small creek led into a larger waterway that fell into a beautiful, gentle waterfall. Here, I was sure that I would find him. I wished every second of every day for this dream to come to life.