Sleep No More - Aprilynne Pike

 Sleep No More

BY

Aprilynne Pike

TEN YEARS EARLIER

I sit on the itchy couch and stare at Mommys eyes, wishing for them to open. Everyone tells me shes going to wake up, but its been two days. Aunt Sierra promised and the doctor said so.

But Daddys not coming back. Ever.

In my vision, it was Sierra who died. I was just trying to stop that.

But things didnt happen like I thought.

Sierras alive. And Daddys not.

A lady came in to talk to her. Theyve been outside in the hall for a long time. I look at Mommy and then slide down from the couch and sneak to the door. Theyre quiet, but if I put my ear right where the door isnt quite closed, I can hear them.

It was supposed to be me, my aunt says in an angry whisper, and my stomach starts to hurt. I didnt want her to know. Now shell figure out I changed things.

You?

Yes, it was supposed to be me and I did nothing. Give me some credit.

Then who? the other lady asks.

I cross my fingers, but Sierra still tells on me. It must have been Charlotte. It wouldve terrified her.

You know how severe of an infraction this is, the lady says, and I dont know what infraction means, but her voice doesnt sound like its something good.

Shes six!

She broke the rules, the woman says. Youre one of us, Sierra. And hopefully someday that girl will be as well. But only if you get her under control.

Ive been working with her since she was three! Sierra exclaims.

Then youre going to have to work harder, arent you?

Sierra says something but its so quiet I cant understand her. Then I hear the loud click of high heels. The ladys going away. Sierras coming back.

I run across the slippery floor and jump onto the couch again just as Sierra pushes the door open and pokes her head in. Hey, sweetheart, she says. Are you hungry?

Im not, but when I said no all day yesterday, Sierra got mad. So I nod.

Lets go get a snack, she says, holding her hand out to me.

But she doesnt take me to the cafeteria. She stops at a vending machine and buys a package of M&Ms and we go to a dim, quiet room with a big cross at the front. It looks like a church, but it seems weird to have a church in the hospital. I guess everyone else thinks its weird too, because the room is empty.

Maybe thats why Sierra brought me here.

Charlotte, Sierra says, you had a vision about this, didnt you?

My bottom lip quivers, and tears overflow when I nod.

And you tried to stop it.

I nod again, even though the way she said it wasnt really a question. Its bad to see the visions at all. Sierras been teaching me how to fight them off since I was three.

But its hard.

And sometimes it hurts. This one hurt a lot.

I tried to save you, I whisper, but I can barely get the words out through my tears. My chin drops to my chest and I feel her pull me onto her lap, where the curled ends of her pretty, blondish-red hair tickle my face.

Im going to come live with you, she says, and Im so surprised my tears stop with a loud sniff. Your mom will need a lot of help, and . . . Im going to keep an eye on you for a while, she says, and it sounds like a bad thing.

She lifts my face and rubs my wet cheeks with her thumbs. Your mom is going to wake up, she says, her voice very serious. And when she does, you cannot tell her what happened. You cant tell her anything.

But you said

I know. I hoped that someday we could. But this accident has changed things. We cant ever tell her now.

Why not? I ask.

Because . . . because she might be angry. With both of us, Sierra says after a long silence, and my chest hurts at the thought of Mommy being mad at me.

Charlotte, Im afraid the time has come for you to act much more grown up than you are. Its going to be difficult, but you have to work very, very hard at following the rules from now on. Do you understand?

I nod, even though I really dont.

Sierra glances at the door that leads into the little church place. Tell me the rules, she says.

You know the rules, I say, rubbing my eyes with my fists.

Tell me again, she says, and her voice is very soft and gentle now.

I stare at her, not sure why I have to do this here, but I start to recite anyway. Never reveal that you are an Oracle to anyone except another Oracle.

Good. Two?

Fight your visions with all your strength. Never surrender. Never give up. Dont close your eyes.

Three?

Never, under any circumstances, change the future. Sierra nods and a single tear shines on her cheek.

Then I understand.

I did this. Daddy is dead because I didnt follow the rules. I bury my face in my aunts shirt and start to sob.

ONE

What I wouldnt give to live somewhere without snow. Not that theres any snow actually sticking on the ground yet. Just dead grass and bitterly cold winds. Ugly cold.

Until I open the front door to the high school and am blasted with a mixture of heat, moisture, and noise. The hall is swarming with bodies and music and cell phones chirping, but I put my head down and wander through it like a winding maze.

The space in front of my locker is crowded with people and for a moment I indulge the fantasy that theyre waiting to talk to me. But I know better. Robert Jones is one of the most popular guys in school and his locker is on my rightthus the majority of the crowd.

On my left is Michelle.

We used to be friends. Now we have this wary sort of acquaintanceship. Michelle glances in my direction and even though I see her catch sight of methat slight widening of her eyesshe gestures to the two girls with her and they walk off together toward the cafeteria.

Whatever.

I bodily shove some big guy talking to Robert out of my way so I can get into my locker.

Unfortunately as I touch the scratched metal surface, I feel a tickling at the edge of my brain.

A vision.

Fan-freaking-tabulous. Just what I need before school even starts.

Now its a race to get my locker open so I can crouch down and lean against it and look like Im doing something. Something else.

I spin to the last number and yank up on the locker handle. It doesnt budge.

Damn it! I start to try the combo again, but its too late. Im going to have to sit on the floor. My legs bend, almost too easily, and I drop hard to my knees. I lean my forehead against the cool metal and breathe slowly, trying not to draw attention to myself.

The visions themselves arent that big a deal; theyre usually over in less than a minute. But I hate getting them in public because in those seconds Im blind to the world. If no one speaks to me Im fineno one notices, the vision eventually dissipates, the world starts turning again, and life continues.

But if anyone tries to get my attention its a little hard to miss the fact that Im completely unresponsive. After that, I suffer mockery for days. Or I used to. Its a little better now that Im in high school. People already know Im a freak and just ignore me. The trade-off is, of course, that everybody knows Im a freak.

Cant think about that now. I suck in air slowly, like Im breathing through a straw, and stare straight ahead. I visualize grabbing a black curtain and pulling it over my inner eyemy third eye, as Sierra always calls itto block out the vision. Mental visuals seem to help.

Ill be affected by the foretelling no matter what, but if I black out my mind, fill it with darkness, then I wont see it.

And if I cant see, I wont be tempted to do anything about it.

As an added bonus, when I fight it, the vision generally passes more quickly. Which, when Im at school, is the number one goal.

Sierra spent years trying different methods to help me block out my visions: a big, black paintbrush; turning off an imaginary switch; even covering my third eye with imaginary hands. The black curtain works best for me.

But no one can see what Im doing on the inside; they only see the outside. And on the outside Im some girl, kneeling on the dirty floor, my head against my locker, completely still with my eyes wide open.

I cant close them. Closing your eyes is a gesture of surrender.

I cling to the words I used to resent:

Never surrender.

Never give up.

Dont close your eyes.

I say them over and over like a mantra, focusing on the words instead of the force of the vision fighting to get into my head.

An incoming vision feels like a huge hand squeezing your skull, trying to dig its fingers into your brain. You have to push back as hard as you canwith every ounce of concentration you haveor itll find a soft spot and get in. The pressure grows to a fever pitch, and then, just as it gets truly painful, it starts to fade. Thats when you know youve won.

Today, as usual, I win. Its so normal, it doesnt even feel triumphant. As the sensation ebbs away, my body belongs to me again. My lungs cry for air and even though I want to gulp it in, I do the breathing-from-a-straw thing so I dont hyperventilate. Made that mistake once in fourth grade and passed out. Not my finest moment.

A few more seconds and Ill be able to see again. Hear again. The noise filters in like turning the volume up on a radio and, as soon as I have the strength, I straighten my spine and let my eyes dart carefully from side to side to see if anyone noticed.

No ones paying attention. I reach for my backpack and my hand covers a shoe instead. I look up to find Linden Christiansen towering above my head and holding my backpack.

Mortification and delight fight to drown me.

He reaches out a hand and I wish it meant anything other than that hes a nice guy helping a girl up. But as soon as Im on my feet, he drops his arm. Migraine coming on? he asks, handing over my backpack.

The lie that rules my life. Yeah, I mumble.

Hes looking at me and I let myself meet his gazeand thus risk turning into a babbling moron at the sight of his light blue eyes that remind me of a still pond. I t-took some new meds this morning, I stammer, but I guess they havent quite kicked in yet.

Do you want to call your mom? he asks, his forehead wrinkling with concern. Go home?

I force a smile and a shaky laugh. No, Ill be okay. I just need to get to class and sit down. Theyll start working soon.

Are you sure? You want me to carry your backpack or anything?

Im tempted to let him. Anything to buy a few more minutes. But the vision has passedIm completely fine now. And my ego rebels against faking weakness for a guy.