Chapter 5

The snow was already a few inches deep and showed no signs of stopping, though the wind had died down to occasional gusts, smacking me in the face with what felt like shards of glass, the temperature dropping as the world grew whiter.

I let my jeep heat up my numb fingers as I waited for the buses to finish loading, my gaze roaming the lot. There was quite a lot of old trucks, the kind that could total a new car and come away clean, a couple of old SUV's, an old Jeep Land Rover and a handful of cars, nothing really out of the ordinary.

And then the buses moved out and I spotted a coal black, brand new Hum-Vee peel off after them, starting the synchronized exit. I caught a glimpse of dark eyes and pale faces as it passed me and I felt like smacking my head. Of course, their family is rich, why should they have to drive a junk yard reject?

I mentally apologized to my Jeep, explaining that my statement did not apply to it's beautiful self. It may seem strange to talk to my vehicle, but I'd seen one of my dad's friends insult his car and, not two blocks down the road, all four tires fell of as he tried to turn the corner. He'd smacked his head into the steering wheel and blacked both eyes on his fists. No damage was done to the car. After that, I always took the time to thank perfectly inanimate-seeming objects and never, ever insulted electronics.

I went home, wrote back to my friends on my computer, did my homework from yesterday and today and still had time before dinner. I went through my clothes for an outfit for my weights class but found I was lacking shoes; I had my snow boots, my skater shoes and a pair of flip-flops.

Resigning myself to the inevitable, I pulled on my shoes, bundled up and headed back out into the snow. I grabbed the beat-up old broom Aunt Claire kept behind the door and swept off the porch, stairs and my car even though flakes were still falling from the sky, trying to keep it from piling up and possibly freezing. All I needed was a broken limb to make my hell week complete.

My poor jeep looked like a sugar-coated popsicle as I drove down the street, its blue paint glittering wetly. I headed back down Main St. to a small shop just across from the grocery store that sold clothes; if I remembered correctly, I would find shoes there as well.

It turns out I was lucky; not only did they sell shoes, but there was also a small selection of fabric, buttons, thread and other things needed to repair clothes or make your own. I'd been dreading going to a bigger town to hunt down a Wal-Mart or crafts store and had hoped I could put it off a bit, but I was fortunate. I thanked the woman who'd helped me, paid and left with my bounty, waving at DJ in the next lot over as he began shoveling the lot. I spotted the black Hum-Vee at the gas station beyond the garage and averted my gaze, shoving my bags in the passenger seat and driving away.

I fixed spaghetti and garlic toast, watched the weather with Claire and went to bed, making sure all my stuff was piled together so I wouldn't forget anything; the phrase "out of sight, out of mind" usually applied to me, so I tried to keep everything together.

I dreamed that night of the strange Hawkins kids, reliving the odd event of lunch. Instead of being paralyzed, I was free from fear, worry, doubt, like I was floating in a sea of calm.

What are you? they whispered as we stared across the expanse of the cafeteria.

Lost. My mind replied, echoing like in a cavern. There was no curiosity, no thought process, just and instinctive reply to the question.

Do you fear?

Yes.

Will it stop you?

The scene faded quickly as I gasped awake, sitting up and breathing fast, my heart rate thumping loudly in the darkness. I turned on the small light on my desk and tried to slow my body down. Something woke me up.

I sat there for what felt like hours and had finally decided that I wouldn't discover the cause when I heard it again. A deep groaning sound, a crunch and then grinding, right above my room, almost like someone was up there.

No way in hell is it Santa Claus, I thought as I got out of bed and crept to the window, just in time to watch a large clump of snow fall past my window and hit the ground. I jumped backwards, bumping into my desk chair and nearly falling, stifling a scream when I saw the shadow. And then I kicked myself for being stupid. I knew the sound of snow sliding off a roof; Oklahoma did get snow at least once a winter. I shivered, still uneasy, the faint memory of my dream milling about in the back of my mind.

A glance at the clock told me it was 3:30 am and I sighed. Great. I was wide awake with unneeded panic and needed more sleep, but probably wasn't going to get it. Just peachy.

I crawled back into bed anyway, shutting off my lamp and getting comfortable. Even if I couldn't manage to reclaim sleep, I could at least rest my body. I slowed my breathing and concentrated on relaxing each muscle, starting with my toes. By the time I got to my stomach, I was breathing evenly and I never noticed when I fell back asleep.

That was the first night I' dreamed like that and, even though I didn't remember much about it when I woke up later, I could remember the eerie feeling it gave me.

When I got to school, I parked at the far end of the lot, away from the Hawkins' car. It had stopped snowing sometime before I'd woken but most of the cars were still covered in snow. Someone had cleared the worst of the snow from the lot, but there were still mounds of snow that people used to begin a snowball fight.

I pulled my beanie down low and high-tailed it indoors, sliding on the growing puddle inside and slamming into what felt like a brick wall. I had a split second to regret a wet butt when I leaned into the person standing behind me, knocking them down as well.

My hat had fallen into my eyes and I yanked at it as the person I was sitting on started squirming. Someone pulled me up and I turned around.

"I'm so sor-" I froze. It was bad enough knowing that I'd slammed headlong into the bear-like Davis Hawkins, a little worse that Morgan the Pixie had hauled me up, though they both seemed to find it amusing. The part that really made me want to dig a hole and bury myself, that made my overly-flushed face pale, was seeing who I'd fallen on.