Catching Feelings

Chapter Four: A New Set of Rules

I'm so sorry for the late update, I know I promised Monday but I was in Montreal last week and I didn't have any time to  upload.

Chapter Four: A New Set of Rules

My eyes flutter open, a feeling of déjà vu washing over me as I slowly look around, trying to figure out exactly where I am. I slowly get off the squeaky but comfortable bed that I somehow ended up on and follow the loud sounds coming from the downstairs floor.

When I walk down the stairs I feel a familiar glow to the house and as I look around, I can tell I'm not in Belmount anymore. The way the wallpaper flickers in the dimmed light, how everything looks so picture perfect; there's no chipped paint or markings on the walls, no scratches on the furniture, nothing out of place or moved in an incorrect spot.

A sense of understanding washes over me as I come to the realization of where I am; the other side.

The clattering and thudding sounds lead me to the kitchen and I slowly walk inside, holding my breath over who's on the other side of the door-frame. And when I see the same dark jeans, red-white checkered top, and identical blonde hair to mine that I got so used to seeing when I woke up every morning, I gasp and have to grab hold of the door frame to steady me.

"Mom," I breathe.

She slowly turns around, a small smile spreading across her face, and I can't help but notice how much better she looks now that she's dead, than from how I remembered her when she wasn't. The hair that was once always frizzy and in a messy bun on the top of her head is now combed and falling in long, loose waves that cascade down her back, the huge dark circles that were always under her eye are now gone, the dark blue shadows that use to crowd in them have vanished, and are now replaced with a crystal blue color that I so faintly remember seeing. But there's a faded scar peeking out from under her bangs that I've never seen before. "Hello Skylar," she says, so sadly that it almost brings tears to my eyes.

"Am I dead?" I ask her, not bothering to hide the fear in my voice.

She chuckles lightly, but you can tell that her eyes don't quite match the expression on her face, and they are still in the far-away place that no one was ever able to reach when she was alive. "No you're not dead."

"What are you doing here?" I ask in confusion, "how is this happening?"

"I think I should be asking you the same question," she replies.

I slowly give in to the urge to run into her arms and cry when I breathe in and instantly recognize her scent, "mom what's going on?"

She engulfs my face in her soft hands affectionately, "I wish I could tell you, angel..." she says, her thoughts still hidden somewhere far away.

"Why," I ask her, "why can't you tell me?"

"I'm afraid this truth is going to do a lot more harm to you than good," she responds vaguely.

I shake my head and take a step back, "no mom, you've been talking in riddles your whole life. I'm tired of your lies; I need you to tell me the truth this time."

My mother sighs, "I understand how you feel Skylar, maybe one day you'll be able to understand how I do too."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" I ask, clearly frustrated.

"I'm sorry angel, you're just going to have to trust me on this, and you need to stay away from him."

I stare at her, confused and feel myself slipping from her grasp, almost as if I were being pulled from the dream, "stay away from who mom, who did this to you?"