Prologue

Prologue:

I never wanted to see a dead body ever again, but knowing my luck, of course, I had to. The very first body I ever saw was of my mother and brother at the tender age of nine. I lost my twin brother, Sherwood on his birthday. For his present I decided to play a prank I love him and my parents with all my heart and soul. But Sher, he was easy to frighten. Took everything WAY too seriously, he was younger than me by like a day but acts really old. It was his 9th birthday present, but when he looked down at his phone, turned milky white, then half ran out of the room. It didn’t turn out the way it should have. I never did find out what was on the phone.

“Wait…. Sherwood? Where are you going?” I asked panting to keep up with his long legs. He didn’t reply, his face more a cream color now was pasty.

“Sher? What’s wrong? TELL ME” I yell, it echoing off the walls of the house. Finally, he stopped and turned around to face me, I ran right into him. Causing both of us to fall into a mess of red and bronze. As I tried getting up, I slipped in something gushy and red. Thinking it was paint, my parents were always painting. A coppery smell invaded my nose, dispelling the scent of spring lilac. Looking down, I gasped in shock.

“No no no no NO!” I whimpered, what had happened? What had gone wrong? Blood was everywhere, on the walls, seeping into the carpet and wood floor. My mother lay in the middle of the catastrophe, twisted and broken. My father, staring at her, a crazed gleam in his eyes. One of his hunting knives dripping blood slowly into the floor. What was wrong with my dad? Why was he on top of mom, dripping with blood? What had happened to the innocent prank?  My nine-year-old brain just couldn’t comprehend what was laid out before me.

“Ugh… Ro? What is wrong with you?” Sherwood asks me as I shake my head frantically signaling him to stop talking. He didn’t get the message, my dad hearing the sudden voices wheeled around to see who was talking. Sher’s back was to him, so father easily could sneak up on him.

“Sher… please stop talking… Dad’s behind you!” As I said those words, my father ran at my brother, knife outstretched.

“Dad No! Sher run!” but Sher never goes the chance to. Never had the chance to live, to love, my murderer of a father killed him. He killed my lovely mother, he would have killed me, but he decided that I was more valuable alive. Every day I wish he did kill me that dreadful day. He called the police claiming that I his daughter had killed my amazing mother and dear brother. They took me away and placed me in a home. “White Mountain Home for Girls” Wow, right mostly all the girls there called it the Pits. It was here that the dreams started, here I that I began to realize that I had something special. I began to have dreams about anything and everything. TO my nightmares of the Day to things I never have even imagined would take place in my brain. One thing I knew for sure is that most of my dreams? Weren't even mine. 

j.h.