"Shhh, Bella," I heard from the blackness. My dad must have heard me grunting and moaning from a bad dream, and came to check on me. I wish I could remember what the dream was about.
"I'm fine, dad. Just let me go back to sleep," I said, wanting him to leave so I could try to catch the end of the dream before it was swept away by reality. A bad dream, although superficially terrifying, can say a lot about your true feelings. I hadn't felt anything in a long time. I needed to know what was in that dream.
He left silently, walking slowly back into the darkness, making soft footsteps you wouldn't expect from a career cop. Maybe he did care about me more than I wanted to realize.
I couldn't go back to sleep. It was bad enough that my dad came in my room trying to calm me down, but now I'm thinking too much about the dream. What could it have meant? What made me scared? Why can't I remember anything about the dream? I decided I would go for a long walk in the night to calm down. Even when I was most depressed I found solace in the gentle wind brushing against my body, my hair caress my face, shining underneath a sovereign moon.
I knew my dad would be downstairs reading some old, boring book about the Civil War, and he certainly wouldn't let me walk outside alone at this hour. Even though we live in a pretty safe town, a cop never lets his guard down. And especially not for his only daughter. I would have to sneak out my window. Not an easy thing to do, but I've done it before. Sometimes I just need to get away. Now was one of these times.
I opened the window slowly, so my father wouldn't wake from the lull of boring reading. It obviously doesn't take much to pique his interest, and he'll be listening for me to see if I have another bad dream.
This house isn't good for being silent. Dark, wood flooring, creaks with every bit of movement, even from my soft steps. I walk along the wall line, carefully feeling my way around the room and its shades of black.
When I got to the window, it of course was little better than the floor. Old windows that my dad hadn't opened in years before I moved up here. You don't exactly often open the windows in this cold, rainy climate.
With a little rustling, the window slowly opened. A squeak here and there, but it opened with less sound that I expected. A nice surprise. As the slightly chilly wind rushed into my room, I knew this walk was going to be well worth all the trouble and risk. I needed time to myself, to reflect on what I was doing and what this dream may have meant. I shimmied down the roof and on to the column. I'm not exactly the most nimble girl, but I've done this before.
The ground was soft. It had been raining on and off over the past few days. Typical weather for this place. Certainly much different than what I was used to. But I like it, nonetheless. Maybe it fits me better. Maybe I'm supposed to be here.
The downstairs windows were dark. Maybe dad went to bed. Or maybe he fell asleep reading one of those damn books. Either way it looked like I'd be attempting to shimmy back up that column. I decided to tackle that later when I got back. If nothing else, I could come in the front door and just tell my dad I had walked past him on the way out. I would have to endure a lecture, but whatever.
I walked down the driveway and on to the road. There's a nearby path I like to take when it's daylight. I've walked down it so many times I probably have the entire path memorized. I hope, at least. It's dark, and I forgot my phone in my bedroom. Should have brought that has a flashlight, if nothing else. Oh well.. the night is too good to waste.
As I began walking down the trail, a pale man with a beautiful smile seemingly appeared out of no where. But then a low-flying airplane crashed into the tree line, exploding his body into smoldering pieces of flesh. So I went home and fucked Billy Black instead.