Fever

A sharp, blood-curling scream erupted from Jasmine’s throat, piercing the stillness that surrounded the two of us. With the television as the only source of light, I glanced over at the shadows on my friend’s face, smiling at the amount of fear that was etched onto her features. She had always been the brave one, but with late night thrillers so close to Halloween, her courage was just as cowardly.

“Can you handle the rest of this?” I giggled.

“Y-yeah, I need to know if they get away,” she said quietly. “I think the worst is over. Her family was already t-torn up.”

I nudged her before I grabbed another handful of popcorn out of the bowl that she held in her blanched grip. I continued to watch the black and white movie with slight interest, chewing slowly. Our movie night had started out with vampires, then witches, and now we were watching the werewolf thriller. I didn’t have anything against vampires or witches, but werewolves? They were just another supernatural being they had to create in order to have more selection. I could understand being afraid of wolves, or dangerous men, but not the two combined. After all, crossbred villains were always the joke of horror at the movie store.

Jasmine kept her eyes glued to the television screen, wide and absorbing, taking in every aspect. She would often mumble things that the main character would never hear, but I had seen many horror movies with Jasmine hiding in my sweater. From when we first became friends, she had always confided her fears to me. She was afraid of anything mythical, supernatural, and make-believe. She was afraid of what could never be, like aliens and ghosts. It was silly, but I knew that somewhere, she had her reasons to believe their existence.

But everyone knew ghosts and aliens didn’t exist. Witches had been women who were unjustly slaughtered by men who thrived off of power. Vampires were cannibals that lacked a better name. And werewolves - they were just the product of someone’s wild imagination. I believed in realism, not fable. But that was due to my mother’s strict upbringing of nothing spiritual. She tried to keep my ties from the Quileute far away from my nurturing.

“Listen, I’d better be getting home. I wouldn’t doubt my Dad’s waiting up for me as usual,” I sighed.

“No!” she said quickly. “I mean, can you just wait until it’s over?”

I grabbed the remote and turned the television off, “It’s over, good night.”

“Fine,” she laughed, “but I’ll see you tomorrow so we can get your outfit, right?”

I waved my hand in the air, “All right. See you bright and early then.”

I vaguely heard the television turn back on as I headed out the front door, but I couldn’t say I was surprised. As well as chicken, Jasmine was also very stubborn. She constantly insisted on watching horror movies to prove that she could hold her own, but time after time, she was proven wrong. I even had my own reasons to believe that she was afraid of the dark.

But that was the difference between us. She loved being afraid and thrived off of believing in the unbelievable. While she worried about demons and werewolves, I worried about night stalkers and rapists. Of course, Forks never quite housed those kinds of people without the Sheriff’s department hearing about that. It was a perk of living in a small town, having no danger. But that was also what made it so dull. Having to walk through the streets knowing that the only prying eyes were that of an elderly neighbor. But at this hour, not even seniors stayed up.

It was well past eleven, and I couldn’t even hear the murmur of the night. The few streetlights that lingered were dull, leaving small patches of light along the street. I waded in and out of the spots, my hands thrust into the pocket of my jacket. For autumn, it was colder down in the Olympic peninsula. With the constant lack of sunlight, fog covered almost every patch of forest, leaving an eerie feeling surrounding the town. In fact, the forest was the one place that no one was ever sure about.

My parents didn’t exactly warn me to stay away from the forest, they just told me it was impossible not to get lost if you went in. In the daylight, it wasn’t anything but a pile of forestry. But at this hour, with the small layer of fog weaving between the giant trunks of the trees, it looked to me like the perfect place for discovery. I stopped walking, my eyes glued to the darkness beyond the street edge. What if I took a trip through the woods? Who would notice? It would only be for a few minutes.

But I was guaranteed to be enveloped by the darkness and be left without a single guide out of the woods. I had no source of light, I hardly had the proper walking shoes, and from this angle, it did look a bit scary. I would never openly admit being afraid, but I could only let my imagination conjure up something that Jasmine would scream at in theaters. What if vampires and werewolves really existed? What if they were waiting, only meters into the dark, for me?

I laughed out loud, aware of how absurd I sounded. I took one glance towards the darkness, knowing that the only thing that waited for me was more darkness. I continued to move forward, my eyes moving away from the forests edge towards the curving road, my home only moments away.

As I neared the corner, an odd sensation washed over me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and my body trembled slightly, like something icy had been raked down my back. I tried to shake the feeling, but something was holding me there. I peered out at the darkness once more, searching for something to make me feel less foolish. But it did nothing but make my heart speed up, as did my pace.

A small sound rustled from the tree line, and in an instant, I took off running. I felt foolish, but not enough to slow my pace. The wind picked up my hair as I continued to push myself, my boots smacking against the pavement loudly. I had never been much of a runner, but it felt natural as I pushed myself closer and closer to my front door. I didn’t glance back at the forest as I landed on my porch, searching for the spare key above the doorframe. When I unlocked it and hurried in, I swore I heard movement only feet away, but I closed my door and pretended that I was not scared. In fact, I laughed lightly to myself at what I had just done. Hadn’t I been scolding Jasmine earlier?

Both of my parents were sound asleep down the hall, and I crept past their bedroom as I approached my own, closing the door with as little noise as possible. As I readied for bed, I made sure to avoid looking out the blinds, which happened to face the dark backyard. I didn’t know why I was so freaked, but it had something to do with my previous thoughts. But I knew it was silly, I would get over it.

“There’s nothing in the trees, Kayla,” I told myself. “You’re just hallucinating.”

That night, the fever returned, but not as potent as the first time. I was tangled in the sheets as I fought my way through the forest that dissolved around me, the streaks and blurs turning to trunks and wisps of fog. My heart hammered in my chest as I struggled to find my composure. Why was I so scared? Why did I have to clench my hands into fists to stop the shaking?

I had never felt the fear that enveloped me in that world, with the trees stretching far too high in the sky to spare any light. My skin prickled with goose bumps, and I shot glances in every direction. In the distance, something was moving. Or maybe it was the wind, but I didn’t feel it on my face. I looked over my shoulder quickly, but I couldn’t tell what was beyond the circle I stood in. I moved forward, against my better judgement, and made my way through the giant trunks in search of an escape.

Among the rustling of the underbrush, all I could hear was my pulse in my head. I tried to calm myself, but the lack of vision had me trembling. I pushed past fallen logs, long, gangly branches, and walls of trees in search of anything. I wanted to call out, but I was afraid of making a sound. I could still hear what I hoped was the wind, but the sound just didn’t cover the comforting feeling.

I stopped suddenly, hearing a branch crack loudly from my left. I tried to hold my breath, but I was breathing so erratically that I couldn’t halt any movement. My body quivered, but I did not budge as I slowly craned my neck to peer into the darkness. I hoped that it was just Mother Nature taking its course, but the hairs on the back of my neck begged to differ. I continue to watch as a pair of dark eyes materialized from the mist, edging closer. I couldn’t control it any longer, I screamed as loud as possible, clenching my eyes tightly.

“Woah,” Jasmine gasped. “That was not the reaction I was expecting.”

I glanced up at my friend, suddenly aware that I had woken up with the terror from the dream. She looked a bit uneasy, and I couldn’t blame her. I was sweaty, twisted in my bed, with my chest heaving up and down heavily.

“Bad dream,” I mumbled.

“Oh, I had one of those too,” she laughed, waving her hand lightly. “Basically the terror team came to kill me, I think I broke my lamp in my sleep.”

I let the corner of my mouth lift into a smile, but I couldn’t shake the feeling my dream had cast over me. Those eyes were burnt into my memory, and the sight sent a vivid chill down my spine. I raised a hand to my head, running it through my chin-length hair.

“You might want to jump in the shower before we head out,” she laughed, “I don’t think the boys in Port Angeles will appreciate it.”

I didn’t notice the smile drop from her face as I crawled out of bed; my face still furrowed into confusion. I was never the one to believe that dreams meant anything, but the coincidence of having it twice was worth assuming. I grabbed a towel absently, and a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. My reflection was revolting, and I realized why she had suggested a shower. I tried to smile, but I was still exasperated from my night. Perhaps it was really just coincidence. I chuckle softly. Otherwise, I was beginning to act just like Jasmine.

“You have five minutes, girl!” She shouted from the other side of the door, banging on it for effect. “And I’m counting!”

I nodded to my reflection, trying to justify to my thoughts what I would never believe; “It was just a dream.”