The Dreamer Part 4 by J.M.Hurley (positive books to read .TXT) 📕

Chapter 33

After I finished re-telling my complicated evening to Sierra she let out a tired sigh. “I can’t believe you go together with Kyle and didn’t tell me!” she said in mock shock, putting a hand to her chest and giving me a fake-out raged look.

I smiled, “Is that really the most shocking part of that whole story?”

“Well…no I guess not,” she said and reached forward to give my arm a quick pinch.

“Ouch! What was that for?” I asked rubbing my now red arm.

“Sorry, just making sure you knew how much this is like a dream!” she said and let out a giggle. “How many girls can say they have two hot boyfriends?” I let out an involuntary flinch at the dream comment and shot her a look on the boyfriend part.

“Didn’t you listen to anything I said? I only have one boyfriend, and his name is Kyle,” I insisted, motioning to the bouquet for an extra effect.

She smiled at me and gave my knee a squeeze before answering, “Oh you know I listened, but you did tell him you loved him, and you said the kiss was-”

“I know!” I snapped at her, I didn’t want to hear about what I thought the kiss was like, replaying it in my head was making me feel guilty enough on its own.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. It’s just, you never really explained why you and Zane broke up, you were so happy before and I just want you to be happy again,” she said and for her benefit I made my lips stop grimacing and pull themselves into a smile. “I’m sorry about your parents,” she said, giving me pitying look.

“Don’t be. They’re not splitting up, it’s just a misunderstanding, I’ll call my mom in the morning and get everything straightened out,” I said sounding defiant.

“Are you sure?” she asked sounding unconvinced and concerned.

“Yes, I’m positive.” I replied pretending to pick at a hangnail.

“So…Are you excited to meet Kyle’s parents?” she asked, returning to a safe topic.

I lifted my eyes to meet hers, “I’m terrified.” She let out a giggle then asked, “Why? They can’t be that bad!” she insisted and this time, I joined in with her laughter.

“I’m not worried about how they’ll be bad, I’m worried they won’t like me!”I said and she gave my arm a light slap.

“Oh come on Summer, we both know they’ll love you. Who doesn’t?” she said then got up off of my bed and began rummaging through my closet. “So what are you wearing?” she asked pulling out a knit sweater dress my grandmother got me last year and showcased it with her hand.

I shook my head and let out a giggle before I answered, “I have no idea, but I figured I’d find that out tomorrow.”

“Oh okay,” she said quietly putting the dress back and sitting back down next to me again. “Hey, you know I’m here to talk if you need it, right?” she asked turning towards me and giving me sad look.

“Yeah, of I course I do! Why?” I asked and looking into her innocent, trusting eyes I felt my stomach flip with guilt. Why don’t you just tell her about the dreams?

I asked myself silently but I kept my lips sealed shut.

“It’s just…Sometimes, when we talk, it seems like there’s something that’s always bugging you. I’m not trying to push or anything, but sometimes it makes you feel better just to have someone else know,” she said then looking up at me with her big, innocent blue eyes, I saw she was crying.

“Oh Sierra! Of course I know I can tell you anything! I’ve shared everything with, no worries!” I pulled her close and giant bear hug in what looked like an act of support, but really, I was just hiding the guilty look on my face.

“Just as long as you know I’m here for you…” she said, sniffling and wiping her nose with a Kleenex.

“Yes, of course I know that and if anything else happens, you’re the first person I’ll go to,” I assured her as I stuffed more tissues into her small, shaking hands.

“Oh thanks Summer! You’re the best! I’m sorry it’s just, with your parents splitting up, it reminds me of m-my p-parents…M-my d-dad.” She finished letting out a sob and I gave her another supportive hug.

“What happened to your dad?” I asked tentatively once she calmed down some, not wanting to send her into hysterics again.

“He was killed, in a shooting,” she began, sounding relatively calm to be talking about her father’s death. “It was just a mere 2 months before school started. I remember that day perfectly, every minute of it. I was playing with little brother, Jackson, when the police car pulled up. I remember watching from our backyard, seeing my mother come out and talk to them, then seeing her double over, crying.

I remember how she just kept crying and how Jackson kept pulling on the bottom of my dress and asking what was wrong. We lived in a bad neighborhood, my mother still does. Shortly after my father was shot in the drive-by, Jackson was sent to live with my grandmother, and I was sent here. Jackson’s only 6 years old…He’s so young, but so, so strong. None of my family thinks he understands what happened, but he does. He just hides it better than I do,” she said and then everything clicked into place in my mind.

“So that’s why you were so upset about not being able to contact your mom!” I said, remembering the time when we’d stayed up late as she confided in me that she hadn’t talked to her mother, and desperately wanted to.

“Yes,” Sierra replied, nodding her head solemnly, “I always like to check in with her, to make sure she’s still there…still alive.” I let out a sigh and mimicked her by slapping her lightly on her forearm.

“Why do we always talk about me? It sounds like you have a lot to talk about too!” I said and she looked up at me with a dry humored look.

“I’ve done too much talking, enough to last me a lifetime.”

“Oh?” I asked questioningly, Sierra didn’t strike me as the talker type.

“After his funeral, my mother forced me to see a grief counselor. I got my fair share of pity from her, and yet I still consider it one of the worst experiences of my life,” she replied brushing her fingers through her brown hair.

“Worst? Why, was she mean?” I asked and Sierra quickly shook her head.

“Oh, no she was lovely. But every time I went to see her, it was like I relived that day. It was torturous for me to go through week after week. You don’t know how glad I was when I finally got shipped off to here,” Sierra replied and I gave her small hand a squeeze. “Well, don’t let me get you all depressed before bed, or you might have nightmares,” she said giving me a wink as if I found that funny and not terrifying.

“Nightmares?” I asked in a weak voice and she looked at me like I’d said something crazy.

“Yeah, about shootings…I always have them…” she said and I put aside my suspicions and fears and gave her a smile.

“Just count sheep, it helps bring better dreams, or at least it does for me,” I replied then added silently in my head, or it used to help ward off bad dreams, not anymore though. Sierra gave me a smile and jumped down off of my bed.

“I’ve never heard of that one, I guess I’ll have to try it,” she called over her shoulder as changed out of her jeans and t-shirt and threw on her cotton cloud pajamas. Climbing into bed and pulling the covers up to her chin, she gave me a meek smile and laid her head back onto the pillow.

I sighed and laid back too, hoping that counting sheep may work again someday until I heard Sierras soft voice whisper, “And Summer?” I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dark room rather quickly then asked, “Huh?”

“Thanks for talking to me tonight,” she replied and I felt like an absolute coward. Why couldn’t I just tell her the truth? She’s told me everything, and all I’ve done is lie.

I pushed the annoying voices farther back into my mind and whispered back, “Any time.” Before I closed my eyes and began counting sheep, hoping with all my heart that it would work.


Chapter 34

I felt myself falling through space. Everything around me was pitch black and I could see nothing. As I fell my heart began to race, and my pulse quicken. What will happen when I hit the bottom? I asked myself as I continued to fall. I wasn’t sure what would happen, but I didn’t want to find out. I pictured my mother at her best.

Her blonde hair flowing to her thin waist, his facial features fixed in laughter and my father’s arm around her shoulder. It was a picture she kept on her bedside table whenever and wherever she traveled, taken from her teenage years. My mother’s flawless face was turned towards my fathers, their noses touching in a sign of affection. I could picture it perfectly.

Just seconds later, I landed gently on the floor of an old town house. My mother sleeping form lay in the bed next to me. “Thank god that worked,” I muttered as I paced around the room. “How could she does this to my father and I? How could she?!” I asked the skies, my voice rising. My mother’s sleeping body rolled over, then back again.

“Oh, that’s right, she can hear me,” I whispered to myself as I walked over to the dresser next to her bed. “Maybe I can find a few clues in here,” I said quietly. My eyes scanned the stray pieces of paper for any words like, ‘divorce’ or ‘fighting’ or even ‘angry’ but found nothing. Sighing, I opened the drawer slowly, trying to make the least amount of noise possible.

Once opened, the drawer proved to be very useful. Tons of important looking papers covered the bottom of it. I reached in and scooped them up. Carefully, I held up the first paper, which resembled a diary entry and read it:

Received Update today, She has had another one. I’ve reported this, and they assure me she is far off from danger, but I’m not so sure. The boy has promised to protect her, though I doubt he knows who he was promising too. Vincent called again today. Oh how I hate lying to him, but I must not get him involved in this. How long will he put up with my vagueness? Much longer, I can only hope…

I put the paper down and stared at my mother in shock. What was she lying to dad about? I thought silently as I held up the next sheet,