• Chapter One: Dream

    When I woke up it was raining. Not heavily, it was just a light drizzle. Barely enough to make a leaf shiver as a raindrop hit it. There was wind blowing, but it was warm, and just behind the gray clouds, the sun was there, looking as if it could pop out at any second.

    This was what I called perfect weather. Not too hot, not too cold, and you still got the scent of rain. I love the smell of rain, which is why I swiftly got out of bed and crossed the room to open the window. I leaned out of it, even though I was still in my night gown, just so I could breathe in the smell.

    There was a bird sitting in the tree that was in front of my window and it started to gently chirp. I just stayed there at the window sill listening to the bird sing.

    It was so peaceful just sitting there that I began to day dream, but my dreaming was cut short because quite abruptly my cell phone began to ring.

    Reluctant to leave the window, I walked over to my bed side table and saw who was calling.

    It was my best friend, Robert. I flipped my phone open.

    "Hello?"


    "Hey, can you come over?" he asked, his voice sounding close to hysteria.

    "Sure," I said, biting my lower lip in frustration. He never comes right out and says what's wrong. He just implies it and leaves me wondering what's going on until the last minute. "What's wrong?" I asked, even though I knew it was pointless.

    "Just come over," he said, he sounded like he was close to crying.

    This was bad. When Robert was five he dislocated his shoulder by falling off a trampoline. He didn't cry once. This had to be really serious.

    "Okay, what time do you want me to come?"

    "As soon as possible."

    "Okay, I'll be right there."

    I tossed my phone on my bed without bothering to hang up or close it, and pulled on some comfy jeans and a T-shirt I had gotten from a concert before running down the stairs and out the door.

    Even under the circumstances, I couldn't help but enjoy the air. I stood for a moment breathing in the rain before jaywalking across the street, issuing a loud honk from an annoyed driver.


    The great thing about Robert's house is that it's right across the street from mine so whenever I come over it only takes a couple of seconds.

    The door was open before I had even lifted up my fist to knock.


    Robert made a face at me. I made one back, even though I was really just relieved that he wasn't hurt.


    "What?"

    "You walked through the rain wearing short sleeves and you're bare foot?" he asked in disbelief.

    Robert thinks that rain is toxic or something.

    "Yeah, I love it when it rains."

    He rolled his eyes and I gave him a gentle push.

    Suddenly his face grew serious. "There's something I need to tell you."

    "Well tell me."

    "Not here," he hissed. "Inside."

    He pulled me by my arm into his house and gently shut the front door.

    "Let's go into the kitchen."

    I followed him through the door to the right and we walked into the large and spacious kitchen.

    Robert's kitchen is huge. My mom wants one just like his, but they don't come cheap. All we have is a small little thing tucked inside a corner of our dining room. It has a fridge, a stove, an oven, a microwave, and cabinets and everything but it isn't exactly a culinary dream come true. My mom calls our kitchen cozy. I think that's mainly to make herself feel better about not having a bigger one.

    Robert's kitchen on the other hand, is large and elegant with everything from waffle makers to wine holders in it, and his father is a professional chef so there's always some gourmet food in the fridge. You can tell when his mother's been trying to cook because next to his father's gourmet dishes there's always something you can tell is made by someone with less skill. She's been trying really hard to learn, though. Last week she perfected making ice.

    Robert took the cookie jar from the counter and placed it in the middle of the table, before crossing the room and pouring himself a glass of milk.


    Robert's solution to everything is cookies and milk, he says it's good for the soul. I'm not so sure how good it is for the soul, but whatever it does I'm sure it fattens it up.

    "That's not very healthy," I called.

    "Whatever," he muttered, but I could tell it got to him because he grabbed a baby carrot out of the fridge.


    He finally took a seat around the wooden table and I sat down in the chair next to him.

    I grabbed the carrot from his hand and munched on it as loud as I could. "What's up Doc?" I asked in my best Bugs Bunny impression.

    He frowned, and I frowned too. My Bugs Bunny impression usually has him laughing so hard he can't breathe.

    "What's wrong?" I asked.

    "Last night, I had a dream," he began before taking in a shaky breath. "But it wasn't just like a normal dream. It was more like a vision except I wasn't seeing into the future, I was looking into the past."

    My frown grew wider. "That doesn't make any sense."

    "I know," he sighed. "But I was at this little girl's birthday party."

    "A little girls' birthday party?" I snickered.

    "Let me finish!" he snapped. "I was at this little girl's birthday party, but I could tell that it had already happened before, and, and, and..."

    "Go on," I said.

    He took a deep breath. "I think that little girl was Alecia Keys."

    I burst out laughing.


    "That's what you were so upset about? You had a dream that you were at Alecia Keys birthday party? Why are you so sad about it? Isn't that supposed to be like every guy's dream come true?"

    His face tightened and so did his grip on the glass of milk. My face fell, I knew I had taken the joke too far.

    "Hey, I'm really sorry I laughed-"

    I was cut short as the glass broke in his hand, sending shards flying everywhere and scattering across the floor. His hand got cut and was now heavily bleeding.


    "Rob!" I cried. I ran to the counter where a roll of paper towels conveniently lay and began to wrap his hand up in them. His face hadn't changed.

    "Rob?" I asked hesitantly.


    His face hardened more than ever before he loosened his grip on the leftover bit of glass he was holding and began to sob.

    "Rob!" I yelled shaking his shoulders. "Get a hold of yourself."

    "You're right," he said between sobs. "It was a just a dream."


    Without another word, he stood up and walked out of the kitchen. I ran after him, but he said, "Go," before going up the stairs and into his room. I heard a door slam before everything went silent.

    Not knowing what else to do, I turned my back on my best friend and went back to my house.