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The cloudy morning only made the fog outside my bedroom window lurk heavier. I sigh, squinting into the massive wall of dusty gray fog. Just another day in Bangor, Maine. I truly miss my past home; beautiful, sunny, and gracious Florida. My mother tells me my attitude was better there; I guess it's because the rain brings my mood down. I roll over, not wanting to continue peering at the dreadful day. Maine has never been my favorite place, but my father wanted to be closer to family. I wish we would have moved to Oregon- where my mother wanted to live. She says there is a mixture of rain and sun, and heat and cold. It would have put us closer to my Aunt Danielle and my Grandma Ava. But my father insisted that there was to much crime in Portland. I think he was just trying to get his way- which he did.
At least it is Saturday; even though I forgot to close my blinds last night, causing the deplorable sun light to blind my eyes. I hear nothing downstairs, check my clock, it's to early for Chase to be bouncing around the living room. I sit up and stare at the door, debating whether to go down stairs or go back to sleep. A cold draft sends chills up my spine, and I turn to find my lavender curtains ascending from the window sill. I remember locking it last night. I wobble over and press the frame against the sill to make sure it's sealed. I feel a cold ambient hovering over my arm, and I wrench back from the ghostly draft. I stare for a moment, then the curtains gradually slip back down. Shaken, I turn and stumble to the closet. Feeling like I'm in a scary movie, I gently open the door, and peak inside. No monsters, or killers, so I grab my baggy gray sweatpants and my Nightmare Before Christmas hoody. I tiptoe into the bathroom; watching behind me for the monsters and ghosts. I quickly change, hoping to catch my mother downstairs
In the hallway; I hear Ashlee's television on, and Devon snoring. Slipping downstairs, I don't hear my mother, or father. I walk into the kitchen, open the refrigerator, and grab the orange juice. I get a cup out of the cabinet and pour the orange juice in. I peer out onto our back lawn; the sun is gleaming against the huge oak tree. Memories of swinging in a tire cause a smile to spread across my face. My lovely thoughts are interrupted by a annoying ringing. Ring! Ring! I hurry towards the home phone and jerk it off the hook.
“Yes, is this the Marks residence?” A deep, husky voice replies.
“Yes it is, may I ask who's calling,” I say politely in case it's the hospital, for my dad.
“Officer Jenkins from the Bangor Police Department. Is Chris Marks home?”
“Um... Hang on.” I pull the phone from my ear.
“Dad,” I call.
“Yes Kristen?” His chocolate brown hair uncombed, and he looks as if he just woke up. I hand him the phone, “The police are on the phone.”
“This is Chris.” I can't hear what the husky voiced man says, but my dad's face fell. What did Devon do this time.
“Are you certain?” His voice cracks, and I guess it's not about Devon.
“Okay. Yes, Thanks for calling.” I could hear disbelief in his voice.
He hangs up the phone, then turns toward me. His face twisted into a frightened expression. I know that phone call wasn't good, but I didn't know how disturbing it could be. I open my mouth to speak, but I have to close it, take a deep breath, and try again.
“What was that about?” A whisper manages to come out.
“The police- well- er- found your mother's car, crashed on the side of the road. And- er- they said there was a lot of blood.” his voice disintegrates.
My mind refuses to comprehend what my father is saying. My heart drops and I grip the counter for support. I feel tears welding up in my eyes, and I suck in a quick breath. My father reflects my expression and I'm frightened by what I see.
“No- no! I can't believe it!” I sob in a panic.
“Sweetheart, I know you're upset, but there's a possibility that-” he couldn't finish the lie.
“How are you going to tell Devon and Ashlee? Chase?”
“I don't know,” He says. I refuse to watch when he tells Chase.
Tuesday morning I swing my legs over the side of my bed, attempting to hold my balance. Failing I fall over onto my bed, and lay there for a moment. Chills race up my spine, and I turn and see my curtains dancing in the air. I jump up, there was no current in the room. So how was that happening? I fall over, after feeling a slight touch on my shoulder. I scramble to my feet, reaching for the door. I sprint down the stair. Turning into the kitchen, I run smack into Ashlee.
Ashlee is about an inch shorter then me, even though we are fraternal twins. Her short chestnut hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail, and she is still in her balmy pajamas. Her green eyes still held the sleep from the night before. Our eyes are the only feature we share, although my eyes are a little deeper then her's.
Sitting at the kitchen table is my older brother Devon. He stands at about six foot two at only sixteen. Ashlee and I are two years younger then him. He shares my glossy blackened hair. His eyes match my mothers hazels eye. He is in old basketball shorts and a plain t-shirt. I'm guessing he went for a morning run; Devon always preferred to stay fit and healthy.
Next to Devon is my baby brother Chase. He is only five, and he just started kindergarten. Chase has always been the odd ball about features; he has crisp cinnamon hair, and ocean blue eyes. He sits in Winnie the Poo pajamas.
I rub my heavy mossy green eyes, and softly apologize. My long silk black hair is lined down the middle of my back. And I have my Nightmare Before Christmas hoody on, and my plaid pajama pants on. November in Maine means it's cold constantly!
“Good morning, sunshine.” Devon smiles at me.
“Hey,” I sheepishly mumble.
My father walks in; and smiles at us. I can see the worry in his eyes, even if it's only been two days. Ashlee peers at me, and I know she can also tell that he's worried. Devon and I exchange a look, then he glances toward Chase, who is staring at the table. A deep silence enters the room. I walk out of the kitchen, and climb the stairs to my room.
I curl into a ball under my old quilt, that my grandmother made for me. A few violent shivers run through my body, then I fall into a deep sleep, with only one dream.
I'm standing in the middle of a back way road, but it's completely silence. I shiver, and glance down, to see that I'm wearing a shredded light tank top, and cut off blue jean shorts. Glancing around I see nothing but darkness and a car on the side of the-
Ring! Ring! Ring, Ring! I jerk up from my nightmare, and find myself shivering.
It's Wednesday, and I go into our light smoke gray living room. Ashlee has tears running down her face, and Devon is holding her hand. I walk into sight, and Devon throws me a dreadful look. My father walks up behind me just in time to catch me. It can't be! My mother has to be alright! I need her.
Ashlee stands up and throws her arms around me, her tears soak my shirt. Mine soak hers. Devon's expression makes me cringe. I hear Chase's voice call out to my dad; then I see my father walk toward the hallway. Ashlee lets go, and sits back down on the couch. I wipe my face, telling myself that it's not possible, she can't be gone. My mother can't be, I need her. I turn, knowing Devon isn't lying, and I'm telling myself lies. I climb the stairs, curl up in my bed, and fall into a depressing slumber. My body, mind, and soul is in shock. My heart- shattered.
Shadows run about me- taunting me. I feel cold tears streaming down my face. My warm breath is visible in the frozen air. Silent threats flow through my ears, and I cringe. Paralyzed by fear, my legs won't carry me away. I try to scream, but my vocals won't carry out of my throat. My lungs are frozen, and I'm silenced. Please someone help me! Nothing comes out, and my tears flow faster. The shadows strike me, leaving gashes that ooze my maroon blood. In that instant- I know I am going to die. Then an angelic voice carries toward me; warming my body. I swing around and find her behind me.
“Mom,” I cry.
“Yes darling. Run! Run as fast as you can. I can only hold them off for a few moments.” She pushes me toward the ally.
I do as she says; I run. I run until I can't breath. I grip my thighs for support, but when I look up; I fall backwards in fear. My mother's car- slide into a muddy ditch. I slowly approach the wrecked car, and see the massive puddles of dried lurid blood. I hesitate at the back door, pulling myself together. I close my eyes, but a force pulls my eyes toward the trees.
“Go! Now!” a harsh scream mutters.
I run toward the trees. My body carrying me, but my mind says to go back. Deeper into the woods, the more exhausted I get. I stop, and suck in a large breath. Glancing down, I see the bloody footsteps. Quickly following them, I shriek at my findings. My mother's body- gashed and bruised.
“It's okay Kristen. I don't feel it anymore.” My mother's voice approaches. That made my tears return.
“I was trying to talk to you before, but I seemed to do was scare you,” she says with an apologetic smile.
“You were-” I swallow. “You moved my curtains? Touched my arm?”
“Yes, I tried to speak, but you couldn't hear me.”
“But the first time, was before the call-” I realized she was trying to tell me before we knew. And fresh tears slide down my face.
“Oh dear, don't cry. I'm okay. I knew you needed closure.” my mom's voice came closer, and I felt her hug me.
“What about Ashlee? Devon and Chase?”
“Devon knows, that's why he looked at you like that. He didn't know if you knew yet,” my mother explains. “Ashlee will be next to know. And well Chase, I will wait until he's older.”
“I understand now.”
“I love you all so much. Take care of Chase for me, tell him I will always love him. I will miss you. But I will always watch over you all. Take care of yourself, Kris. I love you.” She disappears, and I fling awake.
“I love you too, mom.”