Awake by Nightfall by Emilia Sherman (have you read this book .txt) đ
- Author: Emilia Sherman
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My stomach dropped. This is what I regretted since I came here. I didnât want to introduce myself to a room full of strangers. Or for that matter, people that I will never ever know after these classes are over. I let out a huff and moved to the front of the room. Everyone looked up at me, all with the same expression. It was like they were all sharing a silent joke. I tightened my hands into fists, my fingernails digging into my skin.
âIs there anything you like to know?â I asked him, through clenched teeth.
âYou can start with your name and where you came from.â
âItâs Marina. And Iâm from Fort-.â I stopped shortly. Whenever people hear where Iâm from, they usually laughed at the name of the town.
âYesâŠâ He urged me to continue, without looking up from his clipboard.
âIâm from California.â
âYo, Iâm from California.â This question came from a boy who was seated up in the front. His shaggy blonde hair fell over his tan face, hiding his eyes from me. âBakersfield. What part are you from?â
âI went to school in Crescent City but lived north of there. Anything else you need to know?â My desperate way of trying to bring the conversation to a different topic. Any other topic.
âWait.â The boy face went hard in concentration. The boy smiled and silently laughs. âYouâre from Dick, arenât you?â
The class burst into laughter. Immature as it was, it was true. I used to live in Fort Dick, California. I never understood why outsiders thought that was funny. Fort Dick was a small town that only had one school for its elementary and middle school students. You had to drive south to Crescent City to attend the high school there.
The name of the town wasnât the only reason I was trying to let it go to a different topic. That was my âbeforeâ life. A life I was trying to forget for right now. I didnât need to remember my parents while I was at school. I didnât need anyone to see my face of pain and regret. I wanted to keep my emotions to myself.
Like last night, the reason I didnât get any sleep. I was focused on finding any reason on why I was alive and not my parents. I donât know if Cassie heard me or not, but I was in that closet crying myself to sleep. The photos she gave me only made the abandonment that more real. I couldnât come to terms with myself that my parents were really gone. Gone forever.
âOkay class calm down.â Mr. Johnson pulled me away from my thoughts. I regained my emotions and I focused my attention on him.
âWait, I want to know something.â
A girl in the back raised her hand. I rolled my eyes. I didnât want to answer any more questions. Letâs just get this class going already. As the laughs quieted down, she asked.
âCan she sit with me?â
My eyes widen at her and then I glanced at the teacher. He nodded. I didnât expect that sort of question but was glad to get away from the front. I made my way towards the back of the classroom, trying to get away before any more questions came up. I place my bag on the ground and sat down next to her.
I observed her image more better. She had light brown hair that surrounded her perfect cheek bones and rounded chin. Her eyes were a dark green like an evergreen tree. Her outfit had a punk rock style to it. She was wearing a leather jacket with a tank top, over skinny black jeans, and boots. She was slouched in her seat and had her pockets stuffed in her jacket pockets.
âIâve been there and done that, except when I introduced myself, I was soaking wet and my make-up was dripping down my face. I looked like a total zombie.â She laughed. It sounded like it came from a mouse with how silent it was. âOne of my worst memories ever. The nameâs Veronica.â She withdrew her hands from her pockets and sat up.
âHi, and yeah I was hoping I wouldnât have to do introduction.â
She smiled and whispered over her shoulder. âIf you didnât know, Mr. Johnson is the front office ladyâs son. Heâs new here. The guy gives most of the girls the creeps since his eyes tend to wander.â She looked me over, and smirked. âSpent most of his time in a lab at the university and now heâs here. Doesnât get out much. We are all betting that he still lives with his mom.â She pointed to the front. On the edge of Mr. Johnsonâs desk, a brown paper bag sat crumbled up into a ball.
âCouldnât it just be from hisâŠ?â
âShhâŠâ She shushed me and told me to do the warm up.
My attention went to the front and saw on the white board, the warm up assignment. I took out my notebook and began coping the warm up. It wasnât any difficult warm up, just something about ions. My concentration on the subject was flawed so I started tapping my pencil against the desk.
The repetitive tap, tap
was soothing. I just kind of zoned out all the other noises in the room. That is until I heard a faint, yet positive that I heard it, scream. I stopped tapping and looked around. None of the other students looked up from their papers. So obviously, I was hearing things. I ignored it and went back to my writing. I stared at the white board trying to figure out the problem in my head.
Stonehart
.
âDid you say something?â I asked Veronica, the only person closest to me.
âNot a thing.â She continued writing.
I stared at her paper and noticed she wasnât writing, but drawing. I watched as her pencil traced across the paper. My eyes began ache and wanting to drop. Unwilling to sleep night was catching up on me, and now I could feel sleep, creeping up in my mind. I watched as her pencil did loop-the-loops across to the side of her paper.
Sleep
. A voice came from inside my head.
Her drawing started to form something. I watched more intently and watched it starting to form a black swirling hole. I edged my hand towards it. Why? I wasnât sure. A feeling inside me wanted to touch the drawing, drawn to it like a moth drawn to a light. Like if I didnât touch it, the drawing, itself, will disappear from me. I didnât care what Veronica thought. I wanted this picture. My pointer finger was the first touch it.
My whole body began to vibrate, sending chills everywhere. Black shapes start to cover all the walls. The students became black blobs and Mr. Johnson just disappeared. My gazed went on Veronica, who didnât go dark, but instead, she was giving off a faint glow. She rose up and I finally disappeared from the classroom. I fell deeper into darkness.
My body fell down into emptiness until it began to bump around. My arms were hitting against something hard. I finally noticed that I had my eyes shut tight. I opened my eyes and wished I hadnât.
I was on a plane.
Or at least I think I was. Where else do they have small, full of hard plastic bathrooms?
There was a lot of banging around. My body, moving back and forth, was crashing into everything in the bathroom. I placed my hands on opposite walls to stop myself from moving so much. There was something oddly familiar about my situation. Like Iâve been here before. I glanced at the toilet hole and noticed a gray smudges everywhere around it. Puke. I was in here before, puking my guts out.
There was a knock on the door.
Another familiarity came to me. I felt like I knew what was standing out there. And whatever it was, I didnât want it near me.
Another knock. I turned the lock and slid the door opened, afraid at what I was about to face.
My mom.
I was face to face with my mom. The impossibility of this moment happening to me, was vanishing from my mind. I didnât want to believe in the reality that this couldnât be my mom. That I couldnât be only inches away from her. She was dead. There was no explanation on way she was standing right in front of me. Breathing.
Sheâs not dead.
I threw myself into her. Our bodies crushing against each other. I wrapped my arms tightly around her, never wanting to let go of this moment. I could feel her heart beating against my chest. She coughed and I finally pulled away from her.
I wrapped the tears away with the edge of my sleeve and stared at her. I couldnât believe that she wasnât gone. She was back. And the plane crash was just a nightmare. A horrible, out-of-control nightmare.
Her facial expression was unreadable, and she didnât say a word to me. She lifted up her hand to my face. Her cold, soft fingers brushed against my cheek. She breathed in and whispered. âMarina, Iâm sorry.â
I grabbed her by her shoulders and stared into her eyes. I wanted her to understand me completely.
âMom, Iâm not leaving. I will never leave again. I promise.â I assured her. I could feel the tears coming down my face. âI will never, ever leave you guys again.â
She pulled my hands down and kissed them. She let go of them and took a step back away from me. She looked down the aisle. Men were coming towards us, and a urgent manner. She looked back at me and I finally understood. Her face was stricken with sadness, and the men took her away from me. One guy came up from behind me and his arm moved across my chest and he pulled. I dropped to the ground and screamed for my mom.
I couldnât let her leave. I didnât want to be alone. But as I moved further away from her, her and the men went into darkness.
The guy took a handful of my shirt and dragged me downed the aisle. He didnât care if he hurt me. He let my body banged against the aisles and aisles of seats. He finally threw me against a wall, my body crunching against the solid wall. I slowly fell to the floor, stuff falling from above tumbling all around my body.
I saw down the little aisle, that it was now a blazed with colorful fire. The seats turning into black, slowly. The guy blocked my view. I stared up at him and saw his hand covered with fire. He moved his fist down and was about to bring it into collision with my body. But something had blocked him, and the force of his blow. I still felt it though. Pushing against my body, crushing against my lungs, my breath escaping me.
And just like that everything disappeared, and I was back into darkness.
Falling.
âAwake.â
I bolted up from my desk. My eyes flew wide open with fright, the realization
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