engine and pull up some news sites. The ‘Spring Flu Epidemic’ is still the leading story and is now rapidly marching across the nation in record time. I don’t want to read about it.
Looking at my favorite conspiracy message board, I see that several posters already have theories on government planned viral genocide, secret lab experiments gone wrong and numerous other similar headlines. I don’t have the heart to open any of the threads.
Sighing, I decide I need to check in with some of my school friends. I find that a few of them that posted yesterday that they were sick haven’t said anything new today. I send some messages to them, asking how they are and then look up my Aunt Tammy, Mom’s sister.
They live in Nebraska too and we haven’t seen them since Dad’s funeral. There isn’t anything current on her page, so I send her a message also, updating her on us in case Grandma didn’t tell her. It’s too bad none of my Grandparent’s have taken advantage of social networking.
Just as I post a silly comment on Missy’s page, my phone alerts me to a new text. It’s from her: My whole family very sick, sis in hospital!!!! GTG , ttyl!!!
My heart sinks as I read it. Missy might complain a lot about her sister, but I know how much she loves her. Wishing I could be there for her, I simply text her back that I love her.
Deciding that kicking some alien butt does indeed seem like a good idea, I turn off the computer. As I pass by my bed, I stop and stare at the large comforter in a heap on top of it. Longing for the time that I took my mom’s concern for granted, I gather it up in my arms and go find my little brother.
SEVEN
I’m in the forest again. Alone on the trail and running through the twilight as branches claw at my face. I can hear the whispering. It’s all around me and I can’t get away from it. Tripping over a root, I fall onto a bed of pine needles, but the ground gives way beneath me and I drop down into darkness. Opening my mouth to scream, no sound comes out and all I can hear is the air whistling past me as I fall, the smell of damp rotting earth engulfing me.
Right when I think I must be close to the bottom, there is a rustling of feathers and a vulture flies by. As it turns back to look at me, I realize we are both now moving forwards in a shadowy, grey world. It goes ahead of me and I somehow follow, soaring through a dim, twisting tunnel.
As a source of light begins to glow far ahead, I become aware of stone walls rushing past on either side. Reaching out, I touch the cold rock and as I do, dark text begins to seep to the surface, moving beyond me before I’m able to read what it says. While I’m straining to see it, a word written in lighter paint floats away from the wall. It evaporates as I fly through it, like it’s made of smoke. Confused, more images leap out at me as the passage brightens.
Looking ahead towards the opening, the vulture is silhouetted in the light, hovering. Opening its beak, it says my name: “ Alexandria…”
“Daddy!” I’m sitting in bed, a pillow clutched to my chest. Sweat clings to my forehead and causes my nightshirt to stick to my back.
The vulture had spoken in my dad’s voice. He was trying to get my attention, to show me something. I know this with a conviction that doesn’t make sense, but nothing has made much sense lately.
M y heart hammering, I close my eyes and take several slow, deep breaths. I don’t usually remember my dreams so I go over what I saw, trying to hang on to those tendrils of imagery before they fade away. The forest, whispers, falling into the tunnel. Words on the walls, a vulture with Dads voice leading me to the entrance. Dark words were on the wall, and lighter ones were floating at me. The vulture. Opening my eyes, I jump from the bed. I understand!
Turning to the nightstand, the glowing numbers on my clock
Looking at my favorite conspiracy message board, I see that several posters already have theories on government planned viral genocide, secret lab experiments gone wrong and numerous other similar headlines. I don’t have the heart to open any of the threads.
Sighing, I decide I need to check in with some of my school friends. I find that a few of them that posted yesterday that they were sick haven’t said anything new today. I send some messages to them, asking how they are and then look up my Aunt Tammy, Mom’s sister.
They live in Nebraska too and we haven’t seen them since Dad’s funeral. There isn’t anything current on her page, so I send her a message also, updating her on us in case Grandma didn’t tell her. It’s too bad none of my Grandparent’s have taken advantage of social networking.
Just as I post a silly comment on Missy’s page, my phone alerts me to a new text. It’s from her: My whole family very sick, sis in hospital!!!! GTG , ttyl!!!
My heart sinks as I read it. Missy might complain a lot about her sister, but I know how much she loves her. Wishing I could be there for her, I simply text her back that I love her.
Deciding that kicking some alien butt does indeed seem like a good idea, I turn off the computer. As I pass by my bed, I stop and stare at the large comforter in a heap on top of it. Longing for the time that I took my mom’s concern for granted, I gather it up in my arms and go find my little brother.
SEVEN
I’m in the forest again. Alone on the trail and running through the twilight as branches claw at my face. I can hear the whispering. It’s all around me and I can’t get away from it. Tripping over a root, I fall onto a bed of pine needles, but the ground gives way beneath me and I drop down into darkness. Opening my mouth to scream, no sound comes out and all I can hear is the air whistling past me as I fall, the smell of damp rotting earth engulfing me.
Right when I think I must be close to the bottom, there is a rustling of feathers and a vulture flies by. As it turns back to look at me, I realize we are both now moving forwards in a shadowy, grey world. It goes ahead of me and I somehow follow, soaring through a dim, twisting tunnel.
As a source of light begins to glow far ahead, I become aware of stone walls rushing past on either side. Reaching out, I touch the cold rock and as I do, dark text begins to seep to the surface, moving beyond me before I’m able to read what it says. While I’m straining to see it, a word written in lighter paint floats away from the wall. It evaporates as I fly through it, like it’s made of smoke. Confused, more images leap out at me as the passage brightens.
Looking ahead towards the opening, the vulture is silhouetted in the light, hovering. Opening its beak, it says my name: “ Alexandria…”
“Daddy!” I’m sitting in bed, a pillow clutched to my chest. Sweat clings to my forehead and causes my nightshirt to stick to my back.
The vulture had spoken in my dad’s voice. He was trying to get my attention, to show me something. I know this with a conviction that doesn’t make sense, but nothing has made much sense lately.
M y heart hammering, I close my eyes and take several slow, deep breaths. I don’t usually remember my dreams so I go over what I saw, trying to hang on to those tendrils of imagery before they fade away. The forest, whispers, falling into the tunnel. Words on the walls, a vulture with Dads voice leading me to the entrance. Dark words were on the wall, and lighter ones were floating at me. The vulture. Opening my eyes, I jump from the bed. I understand!
Turning to the nightstand, the glowing numbers on my clock
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