January Dreams Carrigan Richards (the mitten read aloud TXT) 📖

Seeing Casper in the hospital last night, and getting shot in my dream, I have to see him. This need won’t go away until I know he’s okay.

Calling Cherry, I make my way toward the hospital.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks. “Why weren’t you in school today? You don’t sound good.”

“I played hooky with Vincent but ended up sleeping most of the time because I’m coming down with something.” My voice sounds terrible. Like suddenly I’ve developed testosterone and it’s deepened.

“Hooky with Vincent? Yum. What did you do besides sleep?”

“We hung out.

“Did you ever find out why they fought?”

“He has some deep hatred for Casper.”

“And you don’t? Especially after yesterday?”

I release a sigh. “I can’t explain it.”

“I feel like anything Casper does, you choose to ignore it. Are you still dreaming about him?”

“Yes, but that’s not the reason.”

“You told me yesterday that I was right about Casper. That all he’s doing is messing with you.”

“I don’t understand why they hate each other so much. They don’t even know one another. It can’t be because of me.”

“You’re kidding me, right? Of course, it’s because of you. Casper is pouting because he can’t have what he wants.”

The comment almost makes me lash out, but I don’t. “I know you don’t understand it. Sometimes I don’t either. Casper isn’t who we thought he was.” But if he was the one who spread the rumors, then he’s exactly who I think he is. Then again, he completely attacked Vincent. I don’t know why I have to see him again.

“Has he brainwashed you?”

“No. You should see the way he acts around me. Or hear the things he says. It’s hard to explain.”

“Yeah. That’s called manipulation. I worry about you. You’re with a great guy. Why ruin it by being friends with Casper?”

“Why can’t we be friends?”

“He attacked Vincent. He told everyone that he slept with you. Why do you ignore the signs?”

“I don’t know what it is, Cherry. He saved me the other night. I don’t know how everyone found out that I stayed at his house.”

“Casper told them. Why do you defend him?”

“There’s just something off and I don’t know what it is. I just need you to be my friend.”

“I am.”

When I pull into the hospital, I end the call with Cherry. Huddling inside my coat, I make my way toward the entrance. The elevator dings, I get off, and make my way toward his room.

I quietly enter, relieved that no one else is in here. He looks the same as the night before. I move toward him and reach for his hand, which is warm, but rough from several cuts. My fingers lightly caress his hand and almost like an automatic response, I lean over and kiss his forehead. I have this sudden urge to want to curl up and lie next to him, but I shake the thought away. I can’t help thinking of my dream last night. He was shot and the image keeps circling my mind, and now he’s unconscious.

Chills envelop me and my ears ring. I need to go home and lie down. I’m getting weaker every second. I promise myself I’ll sleep it off and come back tomorrow. I squeeze his hand and try to keep the tears away.

“Please Casper. Wake up.” My vision blurs and I don’t care that I’m crying. My heart is broken at the sight and I want to do something, anything to wake him up. Like that day I ran to his house and woke him. I want to see his brown eyes or hear him tell a stupid joke. I don’t care that he spread rumors, if he really did. I need him to wake up. I kiss his hand and press it to my cheek, pretending it’s him touching me. I know it’s wrong to want that, but I do.

Mom wakes me at some point and makes me eat a bowl of chicken noodle soup. I’m glad that the sickness covers up my sadness because I don’t want to tell her the boy I’ve been dreaming about is in a coma. I miss him. The ache in my throat and body is nothing compared to the ache in my chest. I go back to sleep, letting the dreams continue.

After resting, I wash and dress in a low-necked dark green gown. The elbow-length sleeves have a ruffle trim. I study my reflection in the tall mirror. Long black hair. Milky skin. Oval face. Blue eyes. My name is Megan and I am a Sprite. An immortal being. I live at the Chateau de Fées, a beautiful palace in France. It’s 1758 and I’m seventeen. I love Vincent and always have. Florence is my best friend. But when I try remembering the last four months it’s all black. I struggle with my mind, digging through memories, but it’s like a hollow void.

Vincent enters the room and stands behind me. His dark blue eyes watch me through the reflection. His heavy gaze feels as though he is drinking me in. There’s so much passion, yet pain in his eyes.

“I can’t tell you how good it feels to have you in my arms again.”

I smile. “I’m trying to remember everything. When did that vision take place?” I turn to face him. “The one you showed me yesterday.”

He’s reluctant to answer, but I take his hand in mine. “Please, tell me.”

Tears well in his eyes. “Seven years ago.”

I stiffen. I can’t breathe. Maybe it’s the corset suffocating me. Or the sudden knowledge that I have lost seven years of my life. My knees buckle.

Vincent grips my arms and holds me upright. “You’re here now. You’re safe, Megan. I won’t let you go.”

“Where was I?”

He leads me to sit at the