Mia Luce

Visitor

I awoke the next morning at ten thirty, my head feeling much too large for my body. It throbbed and swayed dangerously atop my head as I dressed in my lay-around-the-house clothes. I went across the hallway and swallowed a Tylenol, and almost choked. Vanessa was up, of course, because the scent of coffee and bacon was wafting up the stairs from the kitchen. I tried to tiptoe quietly down the stairs, but each step echoed loudly and bounced back and forth inside my skull.

Vanessa looked up as I sunk into a chair next to her at the kitchen table. She pushed a plate of warm bacon and eggs in front of me. I stared at it without any appetite. Vanessa got up and refilled her coffee mug. I didn’t want to be rude, so I grudgingly picked up a fork.

I was glad that she didn’t say anything until I was finished with breakfast. She spoke up when I was putting my plate in the sink.

“Have anything planned today?” she asked hopefully, obviously wanting me to say yes.

“No. I think I’ll just stay here,” I mumbled. I hoped I hadn’t just shattered her dreams or anything.

“Okay then. I’m going down to the grocery store. Is there anything you need?”
         
“Nope.”

“I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“’Bye.”

She looked at me funny. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just tired,” I replied, no enthusiasm at all in my voice.

I dragged myself into the living room after she left. By now I could feel a dull numbness in my head, which meant the Tylenol was finally taking effect. I flopped into the recliner and rested my head. The TV was murmuring in the background. The man and the woman on the screen were talking in hushed voices. I sighed.

A few minutes later I considered calling my dad to talk. I hadn’t told him about my date, though it wasn’t like I really wanted to. That would be the ultimate father-daughter awkward moment. Almost my whole life was comprised of those moments.

The TV show put me to sleep ten minutes in. My eyes had just stopped fighting the droop when the doorbell rang. I jumped ridiculously, then grimaced. I was too tired to move.

But I had to, dangit. It was probably the Fed-Ex guy or something. Can't he just leave the package on the doorstep? I pulled back the curtains on one side of the door and peeped out.

My eyes widened in shock, and the curtain fluttered back to the window. What was he doing here? At my house? And why now? Was it seriously him? My heart began to pound as I debated whether or not to lock the deadbolt. First he follows me and my friends to the movies, then he shows up at my house… and I must look like I’d been hit by a train! I was wearing a pair of ragged cutoffs and an old T-shirt. My hair must also be a mess.

I jumped violently when he rang the doorbell again. He knows I’m here, I thought. He planned it. No, what was I saying? Almost everyone is at home at eleven on a Saturday morning. He probably just needed Physics help… or… or… but he would never be here to…

Agh! Just open the door, you chicken! I told myself. I took a deep breath and turned the doorknob.

There he was, Jack Lewis, just as breathtaking as the first time I saw him. His black hair was fluttering with the wind, and he surprised me with a half-smile. I put my hand on the doorframe for support.

“Hello, Campbell,” he murmured, his voice momentarily paralyzing me.

“Oh, um… hi,” I replied, trying to sound as pleasantly surprised as possible, as if I hadn’t been trying to ignore him three seconds ago, but he caught my confused expression. I stared down at my bare feet sheepishly; he put his hands in his pockets. “H-how’s your car?” I asked finally.

“As good as new, and it didn’t cost a penny.” He grinned slightly, as if to say, “I told you so.”

I stared, mesmerized at him for a few moments before I said, “Come in.”

“Thank you,” he said casually, like I had just offered him a beverage. I closed the door behind us and we both looked at each other, me gradually creeping toward hyperventilation and him perfectly at ease.

“Well, I guess you’re wondering why I’m here,” he said, smiling to himself.

I nodded slowly, both burningly curious and slightly afraid.

“Here, sit down.”

He led me to the couch and I sat obediently, even though it was odd for him to be inviting me into my own house. Well, technically, it was Vanessa’s, but still.

I decided to interrupt. “Wait. Before you say anything… I… I saw you in Ruby Tuesday’s last night.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “And?”

“And… Gage said you were at the movies too…”

He stared me straight in the eye. “I was.”

“Can I ask why?”

He didn’t answer.

“Were you following us?” I pressed, accidentally letting my voice rise an octave.

"I can't enjoy dinner and a movie?"

"By yourself?" I pressed.

His sigh annoyed me. It was like he thought the answer was so obvious. "I wasn't exactly following you, more like... watching."

My mouth fell open. “What?!”

“You have me a bit concerned, Campbell,” he answered.

“What do you mean?” My eyes narrowed.

“I’ve never seen someone so… unobservant. Do you realize how many times you’ve almost killed yourself this past week?”

“Why do you care?” I blurted out snappishly. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to talk to you.” What was he, some kind of stalker?

He stood up suddenly, as if he was about to say something, but sat back down again and ran his white hand through his hair. “Okay, just… forget I even said that. That wasn’t the reason I came. I’m here to warn you to stay away from Chris.”

“What?” I cried disbelievingly.

“Trust me.”

I flung my arms out in despair. “How can I trust you? One day you’re talking to me and acting nice, the next you’re telling me we can’t be friends! Then a couple days later the cycle repeats again! What am I supposed to do, Jack? What do you want me to do? I barely even know you! Why… what... who...?” I blubbered.

He sprang to his feet again. “I… Campbell, please… Chris is a jerk. I’ve seen him break girls’ hearts, and I can’t let him do that to you. To anyone.”

I thought about slapping him, but then I remembered the dream I had, with the gaping wounds in his chest. I didn't want to hurt him. He took a step back and ran a hand through his silky hair again.

Finally a suitable retort came to me, and I shouted, "You’re… you’re jealous! I can see it in your face!” It was a childish accusation, but the only one I could think of.

“Campbell, I’m not jealous. It’s not like that,” he said calmly. Why wasn’t he yelling, or at least mildly indignant? His calm, beautiful face was driving me crazy! I wanted to scream. So he was going to come into my house and… not yell? I don’t think so!

“I just realized something,” I said, just as calmly. ”This is my house. So I can kick you out.” I strolled over to the door, yanked on it, and held it wide open for him. I had never done something so rude in my life. It felt invigorating.

“Fine with me.” He loped toward it. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

I slammed the door in his stupid, flawless face. What was he, a freak? Chris was right, he wasn’t normal. I slumped against the door and crumpled, tears building up in my eyes and spilling over. I barely even knew why I was crying.

Coming to Oakridge had been a stupid idea, and I think I knew it from the beginning. Why would I ever want to leave Trenton, or my dad? I hugged my knees. I wanted to go home.

I tried to tell myself that I should be thinking that I never wanted to see Jack again. I should be thinking about how angry I was at him. But I couldn’t bring myself to think anything bad about him.

Why?

***

Vanessa found me in a distressed state an hour later. She asked me repeatedly if anything was wrong, and I just shook my head. I wasn’t going to tell her that I hated Oakridge, or about the visit from Jack.

All through the day I sulked. Occasionally Vanessa would comment on the news or the food we had ordered from a Chinese take-out place, but after awhile she must have realized it was useless. It’s like I was in this almost catatonic state. I didn’t want to think. I was convinced I must quit thinking.

Okay, so I was being a teeny bit melodramatic.

That night was undoubtedly worse than that morning, which was saying something. I crawled under the covers, my head painful, and lay silently in the pressing darkness. I knew something was coming. A dream, maybe. I stared for a long time at the shadows that were my furniture. The lacy curtains adorning the window were drawn tightly, letting no moonlight in.

Suddenly, Jack and I were standing next to each other in the brightly lit living room. I blinked confusedly. Hasn’t I just been sleeping a second ago?

I realized that there was a hefty man in the room, dressed in a plaid kilt, fur coat, rain boots, and a Santa Claus hat, who was playing a trombone. Jack and I hooked arms and swung round and round, laughing, until we both fell to the ground…

Then suddenly, to my displeasure, it all disappeared.

I rematerialized, sitting on the massive back of a giraffe. His neck was extremely tall, and his head loomed way above me. I clung to the thin, soft brown mane. Under me, savanna grass was swaying. The wind blew my face and whipped through my hair as the giraffe began to run. I felt a sudden rush… I was free. I could do anything I wanted! The giraffe got faster and faster, and I urged it on with my knees, yelling triumphantly.

There was still a small, nagging voice in the back of my head that reminded me this was only a dream, but I chose to ignore it. I wanted to stay here forever, while my body was lying in bed, half-covered by a blanket.

The giraffe was almost flying across the savanna now. There was something ahead that I wanted, something I had to reach, before…

Just as quickly as my last dream had changed, the savanna evaporated around me. I was now in the middle of a large, square room. It was very dark except for a single light bulb that was dangling off the low ceiling, casting a dim yellowish glow on the sinister walls. I no longer felt confident, now there was a sense of danger and fear that made my heartbeat quicken.

It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust, but I realized that there was another person in the room.  I couldn’t see through the darkness very well, but I knew it was a man by his shape; tall, and muscular. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run, to not put myself in danger. An icy shiver coarsed down my spine. But I was curious. I wanted to know who the man was, however dangerous he might be.

He was moving toward me, his hand stretched out. I was frozen to the floor. I tried to scream, but the only thing that escaped my lips was something along the lines of a quiet, shuddery gasp. He touched my shoulder then. His grip was hard and painful, like I had been slammed with a brick, and icy cold. Somehow, I knew he wasn’t human. No human hand was this cold.

I looked up into his eyes, which were illuminated in the dark. They were a harsh, steely gray.

Suddenly I was flailing in my bed, screaming at the top of my lungs, my covers entangled with my bare legs.

Vanessa burst through the door, her face as white as a sheet and her eyes dilated in shock. She flicked the light on, ran at me, and grabbed me by the shoulders.

“Campbell!” she gasped, panting from having run up the stairs. “What’s wrong?”

I stared at her in terror, gradually coming to my senses. “I-I just… had a nightmare, I think.” Some of the color returned to her face, but she still looked at me like I was a lunatic.

“Are you okay?” she asked, still a bit hysterical.

“I’m fine, really, it’s okay. I swear, I’ve never woken up screaming before. I didn’t even know I was doing it.”

She looked at me, unsure.

“I swear,” I said again.

I knew she would call my dad in the morning, but for now she gave me a motherly hug, and stood up. She cast one last look at me and said, “Try not to scare the crap out of me again, okay?”

I laughed shakily. “Okay.”

She vanished into the dark hallway.

I glanced at the alarm clock. It was just after four in the morning. I didn’t think I would be able to go back to sleep, and I didn’t really feel like trying. I slid off my bed and tiptoed down the stairs. I crept into Vanessa’s office. It was actually the guest room. There was a large desk, a bookshelf, and a rickety twin bed covered with a quilt.

I silently sat in her big, stately black office chair. I didn’t know exactly what I was doing until I turned on her laptop. Vanessa’s wallpaper was a vibrant orange flower. It hurt my sleepy eyes. I blinked and pulled up the internet.

Instantly a search engine came up on the screen. Vanessa had that snazzy new high-speed internet. For a second I stared blankly at the “search” button. Then, I quickly typed “nightmares.” I wanted to know why I had that horrific dream.

A new page came up, so I randomly clicked a link. The page that popped up read, “Sometimes, dreams can be useful insights into your future.” I snorted and looked at the title. “Dreams and the Future.” I hit the back button. Maybe I wasn't going to find anything useful. It was probably all just wacko cult stuff.

I scrolled down until I saw a promising title. It read, “Why we have Nightmares.” I clicked it and began to read.

"As you know, when you sleep, random thoughts float across your mind. Sometimes, these thoughts can develop into dreams. Dreams occur during the REM (Rapid Eye Movement) state. Sometimes, these dreams are short and easy to forget in the morning, and sometimes they are so vivid you remember them for decades.

"Nightmares, or Night Terrors, can also occur. These dreams can be caused by a number of things. They can be completely accidental and brought on by nothing. They can depict something you are afraid of happening, something traumatizing that has already happened in the past, or something you feel guilty about. You will often have a nightmare in a time of great stress."

Well. That wasn’t remotely helpful. I either felt guilty about yelling at Jack or being so sulky, or I was afraid of being trapped in a dark room with a stranger with gray eyes and cold skin. Oh yes. That made sense.

I pressed the power button irritably. The internet was never any help.

It was only four twenty, but I tiptoed into the living room and planted myself on the sofa. I turned the TV on low volume and watched a shopping network for a while. They were selling "Magic Graters," lousy plastic things that could grate "not only cheese, but all kinds of eating delicacies!" Maybe ten minutes later, my eyelids began drooping. I didn’t want to go to sleep again, but I couldn’t help it. Images of grated cheese and cold gray eyes drifted in and out of my mind.

I woke up on the couch, sleepy and delirious. I couldn’t believe my eyes; the clock said one fifteen! I must be hallucinating, I thought.

I jumped up and ran into the kitchen, where Vanessa was sitting at the table reading the newspaper, mail scattered about her.

“What time is it?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“Uh… one fifteen,” she murmured, checking her watch.

“Why did you let me sleep so late?” I demanded of her. I hated it when my circadian rhythm was disturbed. I liked sleeping.

“I just wanted you to get a good night’s sleep, honey, since you had that bad dream,” she confessed. “But I’m not sure if it worked. You were mumbling stuff in there.”

“Ugh. What did I say?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t something embarrassing. But of course, it was.

“Something about how you love Physics.”

I went beet red, but she didn’t see. She had already gone back to her paper. I laughed slightly and tried to act like it was no big deal, but it felt weird to hear the sound come out of my own vocal chords.

“Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast or lunch?” she mumbled, her eyes scanning the headlines.

“It’s all right. I’ll get it,” I said, beginning to search the cabinets for a cereal box.

The rest of the day was dull. I had to put on the “False Cheeriness Show” for Vanessa. She, as usual, was a happy camper, doing whatever she does in her office.

As I had predicted, it was much more difficult to fall asleep that night. The insomnia kept me up for three agonizing hours past the time when I should have been asleep. And it didn’t help that I was terrified of falling asleep anyway.

***

The next morning I showered and dressed quickly and drove slowly. It was my second Monday at my new school, and according to Vanessa, a great learning experience. Let’s all see exactly how much fog is in everyone’s brains, shall we?

As I was driving, it began to sprinkle. I groaned very loudly at a stoplight, and I think the driver next to me heard, because he gave me a weird look. Why me?

When, finally, I was out of my car (I had forgotten an umbrella again) and walking toward the building in my brown knit jacket, I noticed two people standing under a neon yellow umbrella. As I got closer, I realized they were Gabbie and Tiffany. I stopped, not knowing what to do.

“Oh, Campbell! I didn’t expect to run into you,” Gabbie cried, flicking a black curl out of her face. “How was the-” she elbowed me when I got close enough, “-date Friday night?”

I stared for a moment, astonished at her friendly reaction. Was it a trap? I had expected her to be at least a little bitter at me. Finally I muttered lamely, “It was fun.”

Tiffany giggled. “Well… I got dropped off before you, you know. Anything happen while Chris was walking you to the door?” Her own cheeks turned red and she looked down at the wet sidewalk, grinning.

“I just pecked him on the cheek. It was our first date!”

Gabbie had her eyes fixed on the blushing Tiffany. “What? Did something happen between you and Gage?”

Tiffany bit a fingernail shyly. “He kissed me.”

“Oh my god! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Gabbie shrieked, jumping up and down excitedly.

“I thought he would tell you!” Tiffany cried, now just as excited.

I felt an extreme urge to roll my eyes. I looked around awkwardly while they were discussing the juicy details.

Oh no. I needed to extract myself from the scene immediately.

Because Jack Lewis was striding up the sidewalk.

“Uh, I really should get to class now,” I blurted out, interrupting them. “I left my, uh… pencil case in Calculus.”

Without waiting for their replies, I scurried away quickly, not daring to check over my shoulder. Pencil case? Since when did I have a pencil case?

The whole morning went by effortlessly, to my surprise. My teachers were happier today for some reason. Probably that darn brain-clouding fog again. I had to stay a little bit late after the lunch bell rang, since I had dropped my folder on the way out of Calculus and all my papers went flying like superheroes. When I finally got them all together, I walked briskly into the cafeteria. The shortest line was at the salad bar, so I got my tray and proceeded to the table where Chris and Gage were sitting, backs to me. I guess everyone else was still in line. As I got closer, I could distinguish what they were saying. Suddenly, I stopped dead.

“… can’t believe she thought I was serious about going out,” Chris mumbled in a low tone. Gage gave him a quizzical look.

“Who? Campbell?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ll just dump her today, like Gabbie.”

And then I exploded.

I stormed up to the two-faced liar and pointed my finger in his shocked face.

“I can’t believe you!” I shouted. Gage whipped around, startled.

“Campbell! I… uh…” Chris stammered.

“You were setting me up! Just like Gabbie!”

“What? No, I-”

“Jerk!” I screamed. Every head turned toward our table, their faces bewildered. There was silence for one, infinite second, and then with a flourish of my wrist, I dumped my salad on his head.

The last thing I heard before I ran out into the hall was Gage’s amused, “She got you, man.”