NightCurse

Morning

I soon felt tiny, cooling droplets of water trickle down my spine as the ground continued to swallow me up. I suddenly collapsed to the ground like a demolished tower, and the droplets suddenly turned into a huge stream that began to suffocate my body. It forced itself harshly down my throat and now-burning nose. In a matter of seconds, my entire left foot was submerged into the quicksand-like floor of the torturous gymnasium! As water pelted my now-weak body, the floor was swallowing me whole! I let out a shrill wail and forced my eyes closed shut.

Suddenly, I was in my room. When I realized I was no longer in the gymnasium of my nightmare, my body froze still in extreme fright. I suddenly felt something silky yet frightening on my legs and let out a shrill cry for help. Then, I realized it was only my fuzzy, fleece blanket that had been laid upon my legs before I even fell asleep. My mom didn’t know that, of course, however, and I soon heard her boisterous footsteps dashing up the aged stairs. “CHEYENNE!” she screamed anxiously as I lied there completely still in worry that she’d be upset about me waking her up.

“Cheyenne, Cheyenne! What’s wrong?” she cried out when she budged open my door.

“Sorry,” I apologized, “So sorry! It was just another nightmare!”

“Another nightmare? Maybe we should go see the doct--”

“No! No, it’s okay! It’s nothing to be worried about! Nothing at all!” I shouted pleadingly at her as I cut into what she was about to say.

“Oh, you sure, Cheyenne?”

“Yes, yes! I’m completely positive!” My palms began to sweat as I imagined talking to the doctor about my more personal nightmares. Yikes! That’d be a total disgrace of me!

“Well, okay, Cheyenne, but if you change your mind, we could always go soon!”

“Okay, mother. Thanks.”

“No problem at all. Now get back to bed!” She then descended back down the staircase once again.

I had the most horrible trouble sleeping after that and was only able to get one more hour of sleep until I heard the loud, exuberant knock of my mom at my door. “Time to wake up!” her voice rang from the other side of the door. I blinked twice and then opened my exhausted eyes. No light shined from the windows of my room, and not one of the lights in my room were kept on during the night. I was surrounded by pitch blackness and the fuzzy feeling of my fleece blanket. My mom then threw open my door, pulled my blanket from off of me, and threw some clothes at my fatigued body. I just stared at them in extreme dismay. Why couldn’t she at least let me sleep for at least a few more hours? I tossed my clothes onto my floor and glanced at the alarm clock; it read a mere 4:30 in the morning! Was she nuts?

“Get out of bed now!” she screamed at me fiercefully. “I’m not the one who stayed out till 12:30 last night!” I really only stayed out until 11:30, but I knew better than to argue about it, because it would only make matters worse. That’s what I thought, anyway. She then darted out of the room to fetch some toilet cleaner from the tiny closet across from my room.

When I tried to stretch, so I could get out of bed, I tumbled out of the bed and fell flat on my face. “Owwwch!” I yelped to myself in pain. I’ve felt WAY worse, though, so I jumped up from the floor quickly and retrieved my clothes from the floor. She had given me an old, holey, white cotton shirt and a worn-out pair of tie-dye sweatpants. I guess the only use for these now was either lying sick in bed all day or cleaning the house. I didn’t even know whether or not they’d last long enough to clean the house, because that’s how horribly over-used they were.

My mom shouted to me from inside the closet, “When you’re dressed, start cleaning the bathroom! I’ll clean up the bedrooms!” Oh, great, I had to clean the bathroom, my favorite part of the house! Good God! After dressing my worn-out body in the junky clothes, I trudged into the bathroom and began by dusting an antiquated, light-colored wooden shelf above the toilet that held every toiletry from toothbrushes to some old, green funky-looking bubble bath that had to be there for at least a decade.

The bathroom wasn’t so bad, except for the toilet. The toilet must not’ve been cleaned in WEEKS! Lime-green bacteria had begun to cultivate in the bowl, and rust had begun to take over the silvery lever to flush it. The toilet smelled like a mix of rotting food and week-old fish! At least cleaning it made it much healthier for us but GOD! I shouldn’t have been the one to clean it! Yuck! When I was done, I placed the cerulean cleaners back in the closet and wiped the drenching sweat from off of my beet-red face and stared at myself in the shining, smear-free mirror in the bathroom. I looked absolutely dreadful and exhausted with my bloodshot eyes and chapped lips. My lips were always chapped, to be honest, and nothing really ever helped for too long.

By the time we were finished, it was lunch. “Let’s go to the buffet down the street!” exclaimed my mother, “I hear they have a delicious salad bar and some really tasty deserts!”

“Sure,” I said. I planned to take caution, though, and maybe only have a miniature salad. I had to lose some weight for Jackson. I wonder how many pounds I would have to lose in order to satisfy his expectations; I hope it wouldn’t be that much. Whatever I had to do to make him happy, though, I’d do it!

My mom’s van smelled like a mixture between freshly rained-on mud and stinky, sweaty gym feet. It surely needed a clean! I dreaded cleaning it, however, because fatigue had even begun to consume my tired-out mind. Amber pine needles had begun to pile up on the floor from the fir in the yard, and I could have sworn I noticed an ant or two picking at the remains of one of my Burger King French toast sticks from about seven weeks ago. They surely would enjoy the sweet, sticky sugar of the thick syrup I had gotten from the fast-food joint that morning. I sure did (when it was fresh, of course.)

The buffet was much larger than all of the buffets I had ever been to; they had everything from Chinese to fettuccini alfredo! The blasting-loud radio inside played anything from Shania Twain to Dope. The thick walls were painted checkerboard plaid, and the tables were made of shimmery, chocolate-brown oak. A gigantic chandelier was suspended from the ceiling above the salad bar, and the ceiling was painted a pastel blue. We took the booth furthest from the window, so sun brightened up some of the air in front of me and cheered me just a bit.

When I came back to the table with a tiny bit of romaine lettuce and zero-calorie dressing, my mom’s face was furious, her dark eyebrows slanted down hard and her lips curled up like a beast, “I spent thirty bucks on this!” she bellowed at me, “The least you could do is eat!”

“Ummmm, I’m not that hungry anymore.” I gave her an innocent yet shaky grin, but it didn’t phase her.

“When you’re done with that, uhhh, lettuce and dressing, get your butt up there and eat!” she demanded in a childish manner as she pointed at all the shining tables with food on them.

I sat in silence as I stared at my lettuce. I wouldn’t even call it a salad, because there was barely anything to it! I began poking the lettuce with my white plastic fork after a minute or two. “What’s wrong, Cheyenne?” my mom asked me in a concerned voice.

“Uhhh, nothing’. Why?”

“You aren’t eating. Is something bothering you?”

“Uhh, not really,” I lied so convincingly, “My stomach just hurts a bit.” That part was true. My stomach did hurt, but the hurting was the pain of starvation. It felt as if it were about to growl like a monster from one of my nightmares, but it kept silent. I just had to fight the urge to eat! I didn’t need it!

“That’s quite odd. Normally, you would’ve had a huge, gigantic lunch right now as well as a snack! I’ll give you the rest of the day off, even though you were supposed to help me with the car after we’re done. Well, I’ll let you off only if you spend your time getting some rest.”

“I sure will!” I guaranteed her. I felt completely drained, and my head was beginning to pound.

When we were finally home, I gulped down some Tylenol for my headache and darted up the stairs and into my bedroom. Then, I glanced at the calendar really quick to see how far away vacation was! “Geez!” I shouted as I discovered there was not even a week left. I could hardly wait to see the band-- especially Gerard-- again Maybe they’d know what they were doing with the Ouija board! The board had been sitting on top of my dresser for weeks now and was probably collecting tons of dust. There was a crack shooting down the side, but I hoped that’d be alright.

After thinking a bit about vacation-- I didn’t even know where we were going, yet-- I slid of my junky clothes and hopped into bed. I then began to fantasize about Jackson and also about how I would love to look good for Jackson .Maybe I’d get my hair dyed a sort of light-brown shade and begin wearing make-up on routine. I soon drifted into sleep in the middle of a fantasy about Jackson and I on a sunny, life-full hill all by ourselves underneath a tree as Jackson complimented me on my gorgeous hair and sexy body in the fantasy.

Suddenly, I was shaken from my sleep by the screeching of the telephone by my bed, and I automatically picked it up without giving it much thought. I was barely even awake yet and could not think clearly.

“Hello,” said the smooth, calm, beautiful voice of my new guy-- Jackson.

“Hello! How’s you?” I then took a glance at the clock and noticed it was already 1:30 A.M! Why would he be calling so late?

“Uh, I’m fine, but could you sneak out and come to my house? My parents aren’t home yet again, and it’s kinda creepy up here all by myself. And rather dangerous.”

“Uhh, I’ll try my best.” How the heck was I supposed to sneak out at this time?

“Alright, great. I would’ve come for you, but my car’s in the shop getting repaired. As soon as I was coming home from dropping you off, I ended up crashing it into the ditch on the side of the road on Murray St.”

“I’ll get there soon.”

“Alright, see you soon.” He then dropped the phone down lightly onto the receiver that I had no idea that he even hung up at first. I then slammed mine down lightly and began packing my purse with some self-defense weapons. The first thing I packed was the shining razor I’ve had for about a year now. The edge was rigid, so it’d sure give an attacker a scream! Plus, it was way better than risking taking a trip down the stairs in the kitchen to get a knife, which would’ve definitely woken up my mom, who was a light sleeper. Then, I also found the turtle-green pepper spray bottle my mom had bought me to protect me from potential attackers, because she was afraid that someone would rape me again like that creepy, sociopathic guy did last spring. Luckily, I hadn’t had a chance to use it yet, and hopefully I wouldn’t anytime soon.

After that, I pulled the sparkly watch from my desk’s drawer to keep track of time, so I would be back before my mom would wake up in the morning. She usually woke up at 9:30 or 10 but would sometimes wake up as early as 7 or 8. I would have to flee through my window and return through the same window somehow, but I didn’t know how. Perhaps I would have to make up some sort of story about why I was outside instead of climbing into my window again. I began mulling it over in my mind as I took the last few steps to prepare myself for the escape. Something felt wrong, though-- something serious. I ignored it, however, and continued packing a bit with a hair brush in case I fell asleep and a first-aid kit just in case.
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Sorry I haven't updated in so long once again. I was supposed to update this weekend, but that didn't work out so well. It's a long story...

I hope the last few paragraphs were alright. I just wrote them a few seconds ago without checking them over, because I felt the story wouldn't be that great without them. I couldn't check them over, because I seriously need to get my butt to bed now.

I really want to get to the exciting parts, but it's taking forever >.<

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