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A Witch's Dream World

By Cheryllynn Dyess All Rights Reserved ©


Chapter 1

With the wind rushing through my hair, I run quickly through the forest, running faster and faster so I will not be caught. Stealing glances behind me to make sure I am keeping far enough ahead of those after me. I can only run for so long before I will lose the cover of the forest. Seeing a large oak ahead I decide to hide behind it so that I can catch my breath. Bending over, putting my hands on my knees trying to breathe quietly and allow myself to relax so that I can think. I brush my long red hair back away from my face, wiping my brow as I do and pushing back my cloak. I saw at least two of them running after me. The problem is you never know if there are more until it’s too late. Their voices are getting louder. I must run some more.

Just then a hand is on my shoulder I jump and scream simultaneously. I am breathless and sweating. “Shh, you are safe. Do not worry my angel,” I hear as I open my eyes. I look around and see that I am in my bed, in my aunts' home. I do not see anyone in my room.

Was that another one of those crazy dreams? What is going on with me? I have not had a peaceful night’s rest in a month. I turn eighteen next month and it seems as it gets closer the dreams become more intense. I would like to think it has to do with my mother’s death, but really there seems to be no explanation. I sit up and see my bed torn apart. Apparently I was not just running in my dreams. I look at my clock and see my alarm has not even gone off yet, it’s five in the morning and I do not have to get up until six. With two weeks left of high school, sleepless nights, my birthday almost here and these dreams… I have been having life wouldn’t be right if I woke with the alarm, now would it?

I tuck my wild red hair behind my ears and reluctantly get out of bed. As I stand I notice something on my bay window sill, I walk over and pick it up. It’s a cloak. Not just any cloak but the one from my dreams. Instinctively, I bring it to my nose and inhale deeply. It smells of the woods. In a bit of shock I just stare at it, looking around my room for anything else out of place. I do not own this cloak. I do not know where it came from. Tossing it back down wondering where my sanity is going I head for the shower.

After showering, dressing and straightening my room, I head downstairs to the kitchen for some breakfast. Our house is a huge two story brick home that you could get lost in. My room is in the farthest corner of the home facing the east so I can see the sun rise daily. All the floors are wooden with random rugs thrown about. The stair-case is circular and when I was little, I would ride the railing down. This is my aunts’ home, or at least my family home. I am told it has been in our family for generations dating back to the 1800’s. I moved in after mothers' funeral. As I walk towards the kitchen I can hear my aunts talking and they do not know I can hear what they say.

“She needs to be told. It’s almost time,” I hear Reba say. Reba is the oldest of the twins. They are about five foot six with the blackest hair and eyes I have ever seen. The only way to tell them apart is their hair. Both have long hair but Raina’s is curly and wild like my own, whereas Reba’s is dead board straight. My mother was the only one with red hair. Lucky me!

“Yes I know I was just hoping it would skip her. Our family history is so hard to understand, considering most don’t even know! Today’s society is even harder on our kind than before.” Raina replies. Now, Raina is quite the spit-fire type. She is quick tempered and usually the filter between her mouth and brain is turned off. She is my favorite! We are so much alike.

As I walk around the corner they both hush, “Good morning Aunties. What do I need to be told?”

“Oh honey we were not talking about you,” said Reba coming around the kitchen island to hug me. “Good morning dear. Did you sleep well?” Now this is what I was saying earlier. They talk and do not think I am listening.

“No, not really. Seems to be in the air. Bad dreams, secrets, and weird things just keep happening.” I say as I grab some toast and sit at the counter bar.

Raina sits next to me. She is always careful about what she says to me which is odd really considering her temperament. She is always thoughtful. “Maybe it’s just a thing. It should go away soon.” She smiles confidently.

“Either that or it gets worse. Just seems odd that mom dies and not hours later I start having the weirdest dreams ever. By the way, was either of you in my room this morning?” I raise my brows with the question.

They look at each other and then shake their heads no. “No, why ask that?” Reba slips out quickly.

“Oh no reason, just wondering,” I take a bite of toast and mumble to myself, “must be the dreams.” I drink my coffee and get up to leave, “Okay, well I have school. Nine more days after today!” I try to smile and think instantly that school is just as much a nightmare as my dream world.

I get to the front porch and check that I have everything I need for the day: cell phone, check; school identification, check; pocket book, check; report that is due, check. I skip down the steps and hop to the bottom, my boots clicking with each impact. My hair flops up and down with each skip and then settles down as I land at the bottom of the stair case on the walkway. I take the front of it and pull it up to the side and fasten in a hair clip, SNAP! There. Now it won’t be in my eyes. I look up to see the other teens driving by. I just focus on my car at the end of the driveway.

I am not a rich girl, nothing fancy, but I love what I have. I was sixteen when my mom bought me my first car, a 1991 Chevrolet Cavalier. It’s a dark forest green with black interior. She had some extras added to it so it’s much comfier than the stock version. I hop in tossing my bag to the passenger side then crank her up. She purrs so softly that she is much underestimated on the road. I smile to myself and adjust the radio. Backing out, I dread another day at school.

Traffic was crazy stupid, a typical Monday here in this little town. I really do believe that this little town holds some curse for me. The first day I moved here I was pretty much shunned by the other kids. I guess they do not welcome newcomers very well. After registering I walked into my first class and took a seat. The bitchy blonde that came in next apparently did not like that I was sitting there and proceeded to knock all the papers off my desk and then giggle like a child.

As I glared at her and thought better of my reactions, the lights in the room flickered. Strange things like that happen all the time now. Her name, by the way, is Jessica and she is apparently the school top dog. She acts like she owns the school and all that is inside it. I decided right then and there that I had no time for such childish ignorance. Every day since then, I have received odd messages in my locker about being a witch from a witch family and it had to be true since I had red hair. Really? I roll my eyes every time I get one and toss them into the trash bin. Witches? Where do these people get their ideas? This is 2014 and I am pretty sure witchcraft is not real other than the current fad of books and movies everyone is obsessed with.

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