Broken Silence

Only a Dream

I'm at home again. Sleeping in my bed, the covers wrapped around me like a cocoon. The feathery pillow that rests under my head cradles me like a child. Darkness lingers in the room, shading my eyes from my surroundings.                                                                                                                                        I blink, trying to adjust my eyes, but to no avail. I push myself up onto my elbows and lean over to my right. I flick the lamp on my dresser on, smiling as it illuminates the entire room. I kick off my blankets and get to my feet. A sudden, urgent wave of panic hits me, although I have no idea why. 

I run out of my room and down the hall. Something isn't right. Even the carpet beneath my feet trembles slightly with anticipation. I continue down the darkened hall, my senses on high alert, waiting for a sound or sight or smell to signify my unknown terror. 

I discover what it is when its too late. I know instantly whats wrong when i enter their room. Something about the atmosphere, maybe. To quiet, to eerie, to dead. I find myself drawn to their bed, and against all of my strength, my feet force themselves towards it. 

No. I think to myself, Not again.                                                                                                                                  But I know, no matter what I think, its still happening. I slowly peel back my parent's bed sheets. And I was right. Dark, red stains claim spots all over the white blankets, like polka dots. A trail of the blood leads away form the bed.                                                                                                                               The window, I think, They went out the window again.                                                                                    But as i follow the dreadful line of crimson, I'm struck with a surprise. It doesn't lead to the window, but to the kitchen. I follow it, hoping, praying that my parents haven't died.                                                  "Mom?" I call, "Dad?" 

"In here, sweetheart." My mother's voice calls a moment later from the kitchen.

A smile brighten my face and my heart flutters. They're alive! oh my god, they're alive!                           I sprint the rest of the way down the stairs, nearly tripping at the bottom.                                                      "Mom! Dad! Im so glad to see you-"                                                                                                                     I stop dead in my tracks. My heart shatters to the floor. My joy is eaten, ripped out of my chest, and replaced by saddness and fear. For what is standing in front of me is not my mother or my father, even though they look identical. Every little detail, every freckle, every hair, look so much like the parents I love . But I know that its just a disguise.   I know by looking into their eyes. Not green and brown, like they're supposed to be. Instead both my parents wear matching, milky white eyes. They stare into nothing, and even though the monster that was my mother faces me, she is only looking through me. 

"Cassie! Honey, we didn't think you'd ever wake up!" My 'mother' jokes,  a huge, fake grin infesting her face. 

I smile nervously and back away, "Well, I woke up! Ha, um, I've got to, uh, get dressed for... for school!"  I spit out, turning to leave.

But to my utmost horror, a hand touches my shoulder and spins me around. 

"Not so fast, Cassie," Says the thing that stole my father's body, "School is not in session."