Waverly Hills

Everything looked dark and cold, and I was confused. I saw a girl, her face not quite visible, but I could tell she was female, because of her long, shoulder lengthed brown hair, and her white nightgown.
It was scary at how she was just running in the woods, and she looked scared and sad.
But that wasn't the only thing that was disturbing.
The girl was running in the woods, and screaming. Screaming a name, a boy? Yeah, that was it.
She was screaming a John, Jacob, a....a James. Yes, she could hear quite clearly now that she was screaming a James.
It was creepy, and I didn't like looking at her doing this.
For some reason, I just felt like crying. Like, just to run up to her and scream too.
But, why? It was weird.
Then, as the girl was running, I, and I could tell so could the girl, could hear running and shouting.
In the far distance of the gray, foggy woods, I could see tiny lights flickering around, like they were looking for something, and they kept on getting closer and closer.
The girl looked panicky, and then suddenly, she turned towards my direction.
I gasped in horror at the sight I saw, because you see, the girl had no eyes.
They were just pits of darkness.
I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stand to see the melancholy face, of that....thing.
I screamed. And, then suddenly everything faded.
I looked at what was around me. I was back in my old, tiny room.
I stood up and saw that I was laying in my bed.
Sunlight poured through my window that was covered from a curtain, that was actually a dirty rag.
It was just a dream, I thought. Just a dream. But what a weird dream.
I got up from my bed, and walked out the door, that led downstairs.
When I walked down there, I then went into the kitchen where I saw sitting at the table my little brother, Bobby, and my darling mother, Anne.
Our house wasn't big, or tidy either. I admit, we were poor, and couldn't afford much.
But, we used what we had, and that was just fine.
"Aww! My little girl is finally up." said my mother from the table.
As I sat down, she quickly got up, and made me a plate of eggs and bacon.
"Thanks mom." I said sleepily.
"Hey, how come she got more than I did!" exclaimed Bobby.
I smiled. Bobby was only 7, so he tended to always say stuff like that, and make everyone laugh.
I rubbed my hand on his blondish brownish hair, so it came up all static like.
"But, Bobby you have been eating before I even got mine. Of course I have more than you." I said.
"That doesn't count." he replied crossing his arms.
He looked upset, but by a few hours he won't even remember a thing.
"Oh, stop your complaining." Anne said, sitting down again at the table.
Bobby obediantly continued eating his food.
I smiled at my mom, and then starting eating my mom's home made eggs.
Right when I took the first bite, I started coughing.
I tried to stop, but I couldn't.
"Mary, are you okay?" My mom said concerningly, standing up halfway up from her chair.
I raised my hand at her, telling her through my hand language not to worry.
After a few suffocating minutes, I finally stopped.
"I...am okay." I said, still out of breath.
"Good." Anne said, sitting back down. "Don't scare me like that. Ever since the disease has been spreading around, I have been right on the edge. I don't want any of you to get it."
I could hear my mom's fear in her voice.
I knew her pain. Knowing that if when I go outside, I could easily be infected by it.
But, I thought that that cough was just a simple choking from the eggs.
"I know mom." I reassured her. "Me or Bobby won't get infected." I looked at Bobby, and he looked back at me.
It seemed that he had already forgotten his little fit already.
I took Bobby's hand, that was so tinier compared to mine. "And, even if we did, we would survive. They are bound to find a cure soon."
"I hope so." My mom replied.
After I was finished with my breakfast, my mom told me to go outside in the back yard and water the plants.
I didn't want to, afraid that I might get tuberculosis, but I obeyed.
I first went into the shack, and got out the plant waterer.
I went over to the rose bed, that my mother had planted a few months ago.
I lived our rose garden. Compared to our house and everything else, that was probably the only beautiful thing we had.
I told my mom that but she had disagreed.
"The most beautiful that I posess," she said once. "is you."
I blushed when she told me that.
People have told me that I am pretty, but it really didn't count because they had to say that to make me smile.
But, maybe my mom meant it.
I saw the look in her eye, and what I saw was a sense of proudness. That she was happy to look at me, and say that.
And, I felt proud too.
I poured the waterer onto the flowers. They moved slightly when the water poured gently onto them.
Our roses were white, and I liked that color on them.
White symbolizes goodness, and cleanliness. Thats what I thought of roses, so white did go good with it.
As I was watering it, I felt I faint tickling in my throat and it started to get bigger.
Oh no, I thought to myself. I am about to cough again.
I desperately tried to fight it back, but it came pushing up on me, like it was stronger than me, and it hurt like hell.
Trying to stop it, I couldn't breath, and I felt my lungs getting bigger.
Then, I couldn't resist anymore, and I opened my mouth as it poured out.
My face got red as I couged hysterically.
After a few minutes, it was still going and I couldn't stop it.
I felt water in my eyes, as while I was coughing, it felt like a knife was being jabbed right into my esophagus.
It felt like forever when I finally stopped, and I was sitting on the ground, with the watererer right beside me when I had let go of it.
I held my neck as it throbbed in pain and I panted heavily.
The time at breakfast was all right, but just now was different. It was more painful.
As I sat there a little longer, the pain subsided a little, but it was still there.
I bent down to pick up the waterer knowing that I had to finish watering the roses.
When I walked over to the flowers, I started to keep on watering.
I noticed something different on the roses and I looked closer.
When I saw what it was and my eyes got bigger in panic.
"MOM!!!!" I screamed to her.
I was frightened because on a couple of roses, I saw splatches of blood.
And, I had knew where it had come from.
My cough was not a normal cough.
Seeing the splatches of blood, I knew that I had gotten tuberculosis.
Seeing the blook on the roses made me cry.
Not because it looked ugly on the beautiful white roses. But because I knew that I had gotten tuberculosis from seeing the spots of blood.
When you have tuberculosis, you cough up blood.
Awful, red blood that reminded me of that one thing people don't want to happen, but it does anyway.
Death.