*
T
he alarm clock rang and I took a deep breath, wishing I could simply ignore that irritating noise. I recalled I had to press a button to make it go away and stretched an arm, shivering with the cold outside my warm bed. As soon as silence returned, my arm fell limp beside the bed and I refused to think if I had to get up for school. For the first time in days I’d had a peaceful night, free from dreams that could only be called erotic and I couldn’t help sighing in relief, thinking I’d finally managed to get back to normal.
Suddenly, the events of the previous night came tumbling back into my mind and I was wide awake, sitting on my bed. I looked around, recalling that picture of devastation and was dumbfounded for a moment, since everything looked normal.
I was at a complete loss. My ribs still hurt, due to my unthinking sudden movement, and I got up pressuring them unconsciously. The muscles of my legs ached as well, as if I’d just run the marathon. But everything else was exactly the same, like always.
Everything was intact and in its rightful places. The glass of my window in one piece, the books arranged on the shelves. The bag with my new jersey on top my desk and, besides it, my handbag and the book the nice lady had given me. A shiver went down my spine as I looked at the floor still half panicking. But there was no Circle, no pentagram, no salt. No traces of candle wax, much less candles. No spilled glasses of water and my potted plant was where it belonged, near the window.
I slid a shaking hand over my face and took a deep breath. Had it all been a dream? Of course, I assured myself. The pain I felt was neither from hitting against walls nor from being tense for a too long. My physical condition had probably been worse than I’d thought and my muscles resented a whole afternoon of shopping from store to store.
I smiled, making fun of myself. I’d allowed that old woman’s tale to affect me so much that I’d ended up having a strange dream like that. And I tried to stop my hands from shaking.
“Mari? Are you awake?” My mother’s voice, coming from the ground floor, offered me a new sense of safety; her existence seemed proof enough that I was back to reality.
“Yes! I’ll be down in a minute!” I answered and jumped out of bed. My legs shook lightly and I forced my muscles to contract and obey.
When I took off my pajamas, something burnt on my hand, but I paid it no attention. I only really noticed it when, in the bathroom, I rolled up my sleeves to wash my face.
My heart stopped for a split second and then jumped into a frenzy. The bathroom spun around me and my legs threatened to give in under my own weight. I leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath, and faced my own pale refection as I tried to calm down. When I managed to recover some of my balance and the certainty that I wouldn’t simply drop to my knees, I raised my right hand and turned it slowly. There, over my wrist, a strange symbol had been marked in bright red, almost as if it had been burnt with a hot iron. My stomach lurched and I leaned against the sink once more. Had it been real? Impossible! I countered immediately trying to keep some hint of coherence. My room... I recalled seeing it completely destroyed and now there wasn’t the slightest trace of anything like that. But I also remembered seeing ... him, holding my hand and kissing me on that same exact place. But how could it be?
I shook my head, putting my thoughts in order, and decided it had all been a nightmare. I nodded confidently. That mark ... it was nothing but a strange burn, I justified. Something I’d probably done last night while cooking dinner and hadn’t even noticed. I was only seeing symbols because I was looking for them. Surely neither Rachel nor Steph would see anything like that should I show it to them. And the thought alone was enough to leave me frozen. With nervous hands, I opened one of the bathroom cabins, knocking
T
he alarm clock rang and I took a deep breath, wishing I could simply ignore that irritating noise. I recalled I had to press a button to make it go away and stretched an arm, shivering with the cold outside my warm bed. As soon as silence returned, my arm fell limp beside the bed and I refused to think if I had to get up for school. For the first time in days I’d had a peaceful night, free from dreams that could only be called erotic and I couldn’t help sighing in relief, thinking I’d finally managed to get back to normal.
Suddenly, the events of the previous night came tumbling back into my mind and I was wide awake, sitting on my bed. I looked around, recalling that picture of devastation and was dumbfounded for a moment, since everything looked normal.
I was at a complete loss. My ribs still hurt, due to my unthinking sudden movement, and I got up pressuring them unconsciously. The muscles of my legs ached as well, as if I’d just run the marathon. But everything else was exactly the same, like always.
Everything was intact and in its rightful places. The glass of my window in one piece, the books arranged on the shelves. The bag with my new jersey on top my desk and, besides it, my handbag and the book the nice lady had given me. A shiver went down my spine as I looked at the floor still half panicking. But there was no Circle, no pentagram, no salt. No traces of candle wax, much less candles. No spilled glasses of water and my potted plant was where it belonged, near the window.
I slid a shaking hand over my face and took a deep breath. Had it all been a dream? Of course, I assured myself. The pain I felt was neither from hitting against walls nor from being tense for a too long. My physical condition had probably been worse than I’d thought and my muscles resented a whole afternoon of shopping from store to store.
I smiled, making fun of myself. I’d allowed that old woman’s tale to affect me so much that I’d ended up having a strange dream like that. And I tried to stop my hands from shaking.
“Mari? Are you awake?” My mother’s voice, coming from the ground floor, offered me a new sense of safety; her existence seemed proof enough that I was back to reality.
“Yes! I’ll be down in a minute!” I answered and jumped out of bed. My legs shook lightly and I forced my muscles to contract and obey.
When I took off my pajamas, something burnt on my hand, but I paid it no attention. I only really noticed it when, in the bathroom, I rolled up my sleeves to wash my face.
My heart stopped for a split second and then jumped into a frenzy. The bathroom spun around me and my legs threatened to give in under my own weight. I leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath, and faced my own pale refection as I tried to calm down. When I managed to recover some of my balance and the certainty that I wouldn’t simply drop to my knees, I raised my right hand and turned it slowly. There, over my wrist, a strange symbol had been marked in bright red, almost as if it had been burnt with a hot iron. My stomach lurched and I leaned against the sink once more. Had it been real? Impossible! I countered immediately trying to keep some hint of coherence. My room... I recalled seeing it completely destroyed and now there wasn’t the slightest trace of anything like that. But I also remembered seeing ... him, holding my hand and kissing me on that same exact place. But how could it be?
I shook my head, putting my thoughts in order, and decided it had all been a nightmare. I nodded confidently. That mark ... it was nothing but a strange burn, I justified. Something I’d probably done last night while cooking dinner and hadn’t even noticed. I was only seeing symbols because I was looking for them. Surely neither Rachel nor Steph would see anything like that should I show it to them. And the thought alone was enough to leave me frozen. With nervous hands, I opened one of the bathroom cabins, knocking
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