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Chapter Five

Finally home was in sight, and I was so thankful that my weird day was finally coming to an end. After a long, hot shower, I dressed in my pajamas and sat down alone for a bowl of cereal at the kitchen table. I tried hard not to think about the weirdness between Abby, Blake, and me, but it consumed me. There was the possibility that I was reading too much into it, that I really hadn’t made a total fool of myself. But unfortunately, I didn’t think I was that lucky—l had seen how they’d looked at me. The thought that really threw me off was that I cared so much.

When I finished eating, I rinsed my bowl and spoon then marched upstairs to my room. I flopped down on my bed, turned on the TV, and hoped some good trash television would be a distraction.

But as I flipped through the channels, the things I had pondered over my bowl of cereal kept haunting me. It was so frustrating because I had never cared so much about what two people thought of me. What does it matter anyway? They’re just here for the summer, I thought, and I won’t ever see them again after that. All I have to do is avoid them for a couple months. Should be easy enough.

Finally I found a crime show that stole my concentration. About halfway through the show, drowsiness began to eek its way in. I tried to fight it off, wanting to make sure the perp was caught, even though I knew he never got away. Just when I felt my eyes falling closed, I heard a loud crash downstairs and they shot wide-open. My first thought was that Aunt Rose must have come home, but then I remembered her note: She was working the night shift that night. Maybe it’s Roger coming to yell at me for leaving the party early? I guessed, trying to fight off the other potential situations creeping into my head. Chills covered my body, and I slowly rose from my bed, picking up the pace as I made my way to the window. As I glanced out of it, my heart stopped, seeing that Aunt Rose’s Jeep Grand Cherokee was not in the driveway, and there was no Mustang on the curb where Roger usually parked.

I bent down, retrieving the baseball bat from under my bed, the one Aunt Rose had given me solely for situations like this one. I stopped at the top of the stairs and listened, but there was no sound other than my heart pounding in my ears and the tick-tock of the grandfather clock at the bottom of the stairs, almost on beat with one another. I slithered down the steps and flicked on the light switch as I reached the bottom. But there was nothing. Everything seemed to be in its place, and it was quiet. Too quiet. I swallowed hard and continued on to the kitchen. I had my baseball bat ready to strike, and I checked to my right and left with each step. I flicked on the light switch in the kitchen, fully prepared to deal with whatever or whomever I was about to see. Still nothing.

I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. It must have just been the TV, I told myself. It had been a long day, and I could have just exaggerated the noise. After taking in a couple deep breaths, I shook off my nervousness and pulled some milk from the fridge with one hand and a glass from the cabinet with the other. My heartbeat was just returning to a normal rate when I heard another large crashing noise just outside the back door. Losing all control, I dropped what I was holding and watched in slow motion as the milk carton and glass fell toward the floor. The next thing I heard was the glass shattering at my feet. The milk oozed out of its carton onto the tile. As much as I wanted to run, I was stuck there, frozen. My mind was overwhelmed with fear, not sure of what to do next. Scream? Run? I had to do something; just standing there and waiting to be attacked was not an option.

Then out of nowhere, there was laughter. It sounded like little girls laughing, and it was coming from the backyard. Was this some sort of prank or sick joke? I pulled myself together and walked to the window above the sink, trying to avoid the milk and broken glass beneath my bare feet.

“No way,” I whispered under my breath. It wasn’t possible. I leaned forward to see the two girls more clearly, and my pounding heart stopped the second I confirmed what I thought I had seen. It was my sister and me playing hide-and-go-seek back when we were kids. Charlotte was wearing her favorite green shirt that we had gotten from our trip to Disneyland, a blue jean mini-skirt, and her favorite purple tennis shoes. My heart ached as my mind flashed back to the day of the accident, seeing her sitting next to me in the car in that exact outfit. That’s it, the hallucinations have started. I have officially lost it. I stood there in a daze and couldn’t do anything other than stare in shock and disbelief.

“No fair, Meredith. You peeked,” Charlotte whined as I caught her red-handed, hiding behind the shed.

Stretching up on my tiptoes, I leaned farther over the sink in order to see the image of myself running away and laughing. As crazy as it was, I remembered that day. It was not just some random, crazy vision. That was the last day of my old life, the last day my parents and sister were alive. That was the first time I’d seen a vision like that. Nothing like that had ever happened before.

Almost touching my face to the glass, I leaned even farther, desperate to see another glimpse of Charlotte alive and talking. Just as I watched Charlotte run to the other side of the yard, I looked in my peripheral vision and swallowed hard when I saw two strange men standing in the shadows near the tree line. It was difficult to make out their faces. They were not familiar to me. Even with the dark shadows, I could tell their lips were moving. My eyes were stuck on them, and it sent a chill down my spine when the face of the older one on the left broke into an evil smile.

“Meredith, you can’t go into the woods. Mom and Dad said it’s not allowed!” Charlotte shouted to me as I watched the image of myself blur into the forest, toward the two strangers.

Now there were loud screams coming from the forest. My screams.

“Meredith, Meredith!” A voice far away called out to me, and I searched for it, wanting to quiet the terror in its tone. I stood at the kitchen counter, still trying to hang onto the image of my sister, but the image was slowly retreating until it was finally gone, all black. The next thing I knew I was being shaken. I could feel someone gripping my shoulders as they shouted at me.

“Meredith, Meredith, please wake up!” the strangled voice yelled.

“Charlotte,” I gasped as my eyes popped open. It took me a few seconds to realize that I was staring at my bedroom ceiling, not standing at the kitchen sink like I had thought.

“Meredith, oh my god, you scared me half to death!” Aunt Rose screamed as she clutched her chest. “When I got home, I heard you up here screaming. I thought … I can’t even tell you what I thought.” She inhaled and exhaled heavily, trying to catch her breath.

I couldn’t speak. I just looked at her and then stared back at the ceiling. A dream? That was a dream? But it was so real.

“Just a dream,” I murmured as I began to pull myself up into a sitting position.

The second I got into an upright position, I immediately put my hand on the back of my head. It was pounding as if someone had knocked
me
with a baseball bat.

“You okay?” Aunt Rose questioned.

“Yeah, just a headache.” That was an understatement. “Sorry if I scared you. I guess I was just dreaming,” I mumbled, still rubbing the back of my head.

“
Dreaming?
You were having some kind of horrible nightmare. Did you fall asleep watching a scary movie again?” she asked, shaking her head, trying to hide her smile.

Fall asleep? This was all so surreal; it seemed like just a few seconds ago that I had gotten in bed and was watching TV. It didn’t even seem possible that I could have fallen asleep and really dreamt all of that.

“What time is it?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the images I had just seen.

“It’s 7:30. I just got home from the hospital,” she said as she stood up and began to walk toward the door.

The last time I looked at my clock, it had been just after midnight. Over seven hours ago? It only felt like it had been a few seconds. No way did it seem like it had been all night.

“Well, I am off to bed now. If you go back to sleep, please no more nightmares. I would like to live to see my fortieth birthday.” She covered her yawn as she walked out, pulling my door closed behind her.

I fell back down on my pillow and began to relive the dream-nightmare I had just lived through.

Later that morning I tried to call Roger. I wanted to apologize about ditching him at the party. But there was no answer. I hoped he was just sleeping and not avoiding my phone calls. My next call was to Rebecca. I wanted to feel her out, too. I was hoping she was not upset with me, either.

“Hey, Rebecca.”

“Meredith! Wasn’t the party so great? Where were you all night? I tried to find you.”

“Oh, I bailed out early. Wasn’t really in the partying mood.” At least she did not sound mad at me. “Hey, did you catch a ride home with Roger?” I decided to get straight to the point, my real reason for calling.

“No, he was still there when I left. I got a ride from Sarah.”

“Oh, okay. He must still be sleeping, or maybe he’s packing for Rockport,” I said, biting my lip, thinking maybe I had really pissed him off. All he had wanted was for me to have fun, and I had promised him that I would try. Maybe I should’ve told him I was leaving—that would have been the right thing to do.

“Speaking of packing, I’m just about done, and I
have
to see you before I head out. Want to meet up for lunch later?”

There was a long pause.

“Um, hello … Meredith, are you there?” Rebecca questioned.

“Yeah, sounds great,” I replied, sounding distracted. Not even sure what I had just agreed to.

“Perfect, how ’bout Omega’s Pizza at 1:00?” she asked.

“Sure, see you there.”

When I got downstairs, I opened the medicine cabinet and took out some aspirin and a bottle of water from the fridge. The horrible headache I had woken up with was still there, lingering in the back of my head. After popping two aspirin into my mouth, I took a large drink of water. And just as I closed my eyes and tilted my head back to help the aspirin slide down my throat, the images from the nightmare began to come back to me. I have to admit, it was nice to see my sister alive and running around, creepy as it was. So even though I knew it was unhealthy to be enjoying this, I just smiled and watched.

Then the images flashed to the two men standing in the forest, and my head began to pound so hard that I hunched over and gripped the counter for support. I winced in pain, unable to open my eyes and get rid of the horrible faces. The two men stood there, the evil one smiling the same evil smile, his lips curling upward as they both stared after my younger self where I had just entered the forest.

What. Was. Happening. To. Me?

After a few seconds, I forced my eyes open, despite the pain, and the images were gone. I was finally able to stand upright. My head was still pounding, but the pain was not crippling at least. Something was wrong. Way wrong. In the back of my mind, I knew the smart thing to do would be to race upstairs and tell Aunt Rose all about what was happening—the car that had moved in slow motion and stopped just inches from killing me, the way I had felt and acted around Abby and Blake, and most of all, I should tell her about the headache and nightmare. That would be the smart thing—the right thing—to do. But I knew myself well enough to know that I would tell her nothing, not wanting to cause her to worry more than she already did. Maybe Roger would be a good person to tell if he ever decides to talk to me again, I thought. At least he already knows I’m nuts and will probably just laugh it off. But at least I could tell someone.

After breakfast and my second failed attempt to call Roger, I got dressed and headed out to the library like I had promised Aunt Rose I would. On my way, I thought about what I would say if Ms. Donaldson asked me about previous work experience. I had never had a job. My parents had left me a little bit of money, so as long as I did my chores, I received an allowance, which only went right back into my get-out-of-Marblehead account, anyway. But if the whole exploring-the-world thing didn’t work out, then I would definitely need some back-up cash.

Chapter Six

The library was in view, and it’s exactly what you would picture if you imagined a small-town library: a very predictable, two-story, redbrick-with-white-trim building. It stood in between our post office and city hall, looking very small in comparison. I don’t know what it is about the place, but the few times I had been inside, I would get an eerie feeling. Also, Ms. Donaldson was not the most welcoming person in town. She had never married, never had any children, and mostly kept to herself. Even weirder, she lived in the attic of the library after converting it to a small apartment. And there was the bizarre stare she would give me each time I walked in the place.

My nerves worsened the closer I got to the large glass doors. As I approached them, I took in a deep breath. I walked in, looking to my left where I knew the librarian’s desk would be and where I knew I would see Ms. Donaldson sitting, reading a book. I knew this because the few times I had been there, that is exactly where she sat and that is exactly what she was doing. The door screeched loudly as it shut behind me, the sound making my nerves hit their peak.