The Black Dog Apparition
Chapter 8
Michael’s Point of View
“No!” I retaliated. “I wasn’t dreaming. I felt someone grabbing me - and it was their arms I was biting, not mine!” I was getting so angry; the van was beginning to swerve slightly from my lack of focused steering. How could they not understand, someone had come into the room and woken me up and grabbed me.
“Look. Mikey, Jen and Bret both say that no one was in the room when they found you, and that no one was leaving the room. Michael - listen to me! The mind is very strong. It can make you feel things when you’re dreaming. I mean, even I’ve had dreams like that. You were just having a nightmare, Mikey. Just a stupid nightmare.”
I glared over at Laura, seething. “I. Wasn’t. Dreaming.” was all I could muster.
She threw her hands up, obviously exasperated, “Fine. Some fan thought you sucked on stage and came to the back so they could teach you a lesson. You wanna file a police report? Doubt they would care about some kid’s dream when they’re hunting down some maniac killer! Can you even imagine how worried our parents are? They’re gonna murder us when we get home! And that stupid interview we did - if they see that, they’re gonna find us and drag us back home. And now, Jen, Bret and I leave you for just thirty minutes to get directions and we come back to see you going crazy saying someone was trying to kill you. Just great, Michael. Perfect.” Laura crossed her arms and sat back in the passenger seat, staring angrily out the window shield.
The silence that followed was thick and threatening. Laura and I had argued a lot before, but this one bothered me more than usual. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles were sheet white.
“You’re welcome, Laura,” I muttered.
Jennifer’s Point of View
“I’ve got to peeeeeeee!!!” I wailed childishly, crossing my legs tightly and squirming around in my seat. My announcement had broken an hour-long silence and everyone jumped, turning to look at me as if I was crazier than Michael. I jutted my lower lip out and tried to imitate Gabe’s ‘baby please’ face.
I started to bounce up and down until Michael finally got off the highway onto an exit and into a gas station. Before the van had even come to a stop, I flung the sliding door open and leapt out, running - okay, well, waddling - to the bathrooms.
Sweet relief.
I trotted outside to find Laura leaning against a newspaper dispenser, her face deeply imbedded into the pages. I rolled my eyes dramatically,
“Great. What has the crazy killer done now?”
I had no idea why Laura was so interested in the great mystery of this on-the-loose killer. Just so long as he didn’t come for my Gabe again or any where near me, I frankly didn’t give a shit.
After a moment of silence, Laura looked up at me, “Ever heard of the Zodiac killings?”
My eyebrows furrowed as I thought, “Uh… no.”
“Heard of Jack the Ripper?”
“Duh, who hasn’t?”
“Well, Zodiac is like the up-to-date Jack the Ripper. They think that all the murders are by the Zodiac, because they’ve found his mark near another murder scene… Victoria Springfield was the victim…”
I rudely snatched the newspaper from my lead singer and put on and annoyed face, “Really, why do you even care? It’s not like you know anyone he’s killed or anything! And you’ve changed since we’ve started this tour, Laura. I mean, I don’t know yet if it’s a bad thing, it’s just that you’re not the same old Laura. Don’t you still like Bret? You sure don’t act like it anymore.”
Laura snatched the newspaper back and I crossed my arms stubbornly.
“Well, excuse me for getting stressed about this tour, Jen!”
“But you’re not suppose to get stressed out about these kinds of things,” I pleaded. “Look, we’re still the four kids in the garage who played for the fun of it; it’s just that now we’re on a stage and in front of real people, not your dog.”
Laura took a second to calm down. She was starting to act as weird as Michael. What was wrong with everyone now? It seemed only Bret and I were the still-sane ones. Before Laura could conjure a good response, I cut in, “Look, just take a break and breathe. I’ll take care of Michael, and all you have to do is start a romance with Bret and sing. Nothing too hard. I’ll drool over the Pete Wentz and take care of everything else. Promise. Okay?”
Laura sighed heavily. “Okay.”
“No!” I retaliated. “I wasn’t dreaming. I felt someone grabbing me - and it was their arms I was biting, not mine!” I was getting so angry; the van was beginning to swerve slightly from my lack of focused steering. How could they not understand, someone had come into the room and woken me up and grabbed me.
“Look. Mikey, Jen and Bret both say that no one was in the room when they found you, and that no one was leaving the room. Michael - listen to me! The mind is very strong. It can make you feel things when you’re dreaming. I mean, even I’ve had dreams like that. You were just having a nightmare, Mikey. Just a stupid nightmare.”
I glared over at Laura, seething. “I. Wasn’t. Dreaming.” was all I could muster.
She threw her hands up, obviously exasperated, “Fine. Some fan thought you sucked on stage and came to the back so they could teach you a lesson. You wanna file a police report? Doubt they would care about some kid’s dream when they’re hunting down some maniac killer! Can you even imagine how worried our parents are? They’re gonna murder us when we get home! And that stupid interview we did - if they see that, they’re gonna find us and drag us back home. And now, Jen, Bret and I leave you for just thirty minutes to get directions and we come back to see you going crazy saying someone was trying to kill you. Just great, Michael. Perfect.” Laura crossed her arms and sat back in the passenger seat, staring angrily out the window shield.
The silence that followed was thick and threatening. Laura and I had argued a lot before, but this one bothered me more than usual. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles were sheet white.
“You’re welcome, Laura,” I muttered.
Jennifer’s Point of View
“I’ve got to peeeeeeee!!!” I wailed childishly, crossing my legs tightly and squirming around in my seat. My announcement had broken an hour-long silence and everyone jumped, turning to look at me as if I was crazier than Michael. I jutted my lower lip out and tried to imitate Gabe’s ‘baby please’ face.
I started to bounce up and down until Michael finally got off the highway onto an exit and into a gas station. Before the van had even come to a stop, I flung the sliding door open and leapt out, running - okay, well, waddling - to the bathrooms.
Sweet relief.
I trotted outside to find Laura leaning against a newspaper dispenser, her face deeply imbedded into the pages. I rolled my eyes dramatically,
“Great. What has the crazy killer done now?”
I had no idea why Laura was so interested in the great mystery of this on-the-loose killer. Just so long as he didn’t come for my Gabe again or any where near me, I frankly didn’t give a shit.
After a moment of silence, Laura looked up at me, “Ever heard of the Zodiac killings?”
My eyebrows furrowed as I thought, “Uh… no.”
“Heard of Jack the Ripper?”
“Duh, who hasn’t?”
“Well, Zodiac is like the up-to-date Jack the Ripper. They think that all the murders are by the Zodiac, because they’ve found his mark near another murder scene… Victoria Springfield was the victim…”
I rudely snatched the newspaper from my lead singer and put on and annoyed face, “Really, why do you even care? It’s not like you know anyone he’s killed or anything! And you’ve changed since we’ve started this tour, Laura. I mean, I don’t know yet if it’s a bad thing, it’s just that you’re not the same old Laura. Don’t you still like Bret? You sure don’t act like it anymore.”
Laura snatched the newspaper back and I crossed my arms stubbornly.
“Well, excuse me for getting stressed about this tour, Jen!”
“But you’re not suppose to get stressed out about these kinds of things,” I pleaded. “Look, we’re still the four kids in the garage who played for the fun of it; it’s just that now we’re on a stage and in front of real people, not your dog.”
Laura took a second to calm down. She was starting to act as weird as Michael. What was wrong with everyone now? It seemed only Bret and I were the still-sane ones. Before Laura could conjure a good response, I cut in, “Look, just take a break and breathe. I’ll take care of Michael, and all you have to do is start a romance with Bret and sing. Nothing too hard. I’ll drool over the Pete Wentz and take care of everything else. Promise. Okay?”
Laura sighed heavily. “Okay.”