CHAPTER 10-FALLING

11:57 P.M. She was walking toward a red house with blue trimmings, a Jaguar in the driveway. The knob turned and invited her in, as if she wasn't there to kill an innocent child. Her ice-blue eyes darted around the living room and rested on a glass sliding door. A shimmer of water under the moonlight glowed in her eye, and with one swift motion the entire pane flew out of the frame, soundlessly hitting the pavement. Marsha's head burst out of the still water, gasping for air. She groped for the stopwatch at the side of the pool-she'd been holding her breath for 45 seconds.

'Pretty good!' She told herself. She reset it and dived back in, enjoying the comfort of cool water on her skin. She stepped out of the shadows and fixed her eyes on the water. Her head raised and her hands pointed toward the pool. As if on cue, the water began to freeze, to turn colder and colder. The water's surface rolled ever so slightly. Marsha came up, flinging her hair out of her eyes, looking at the water in puzzlement. Shrugging, she outstretched her arms on the side, allowing her legs to float. Suddenly her arms slipped from the surface. Marsha scrambled to regain her balance, but it was too late. She was pulled under, and couldn't come back up.. The murderer stood at the very edge looking in, watching Marsha's cold, dead face float by.

I woke up with a start, the dream still vivid in my head. Kill my best friend? How could I even think of such a thing, even if she did ditch me? But dreams don't mean anything..a chill ran up my spine as I remembered that thought from not long ago. What if it came true again? I shook with fear at the mere thought. I had to call her and see if she was okay. I slowly climbed out of bed, careful not to wake my parents. A snort came out of their bedroom, freezing me just out of reach of the phone. I heard the bedsprings creak, then snoring. I picked up the phone and dialed Marsha's number, glancing at the clock. We used to call each other this late all the time . "Hello?" Answered a sleepy voice. Marsha's mom.

"Can I please talk to Marsha? Where is she?"

"Last time I checked, in the pool." I took a breath. I was afraid of that answer.

"Can you check on her? I have..a feeling."

"What? Why? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, and I'm really sorry. But please?"

"Fine." I heard the sound of shuffling feet, a crash as a chair was tipped over.

"Marsha?" From what I could hear there was no answer.

"Marsha! Answer me!" Her voice was suddenly edged with anxiety, as if she too felt as if something was wrong.

"I'm coming out th..what the? What happened to the door??"

"What's wrong?"

" glass is all over the pavement, like somebody knocked it out!" The footsteps became quicker. Then a bloodcurdling scream.

"Mrs. Wilson!" I yelled. I wasn't sure if she could hear me.

"How did you know?" her voice was so low I could hardly hear it in the quiet house, like she was scared the murderer would come after her next. Suddenly, she didn't sound like a confident woman anymore.

"Is she..?" I couldn't get it out. Silence. We both knew what I meant. I couldn't tell her that I had a dream. She would call me crazy, or worse, a killer. There was still silence on the other end, and it was scaring me.

"Mrs. Wilson?" Without a word, she set down the phone. I stood up and walked back to bed. I felt no sorrow.

The next day, I walked back to school-I had to think. Why did I know who was to die? Why were they dying? Was it the dreams that were causing the loss of life? Death dreams? It just didn't make sense. Why couldn't I feel sad about my best friend dying? More questions swirled around, faster and faster until my world became a blur. Fleeting thoughts crossed my eyes, dense and thick. I could hardly see anymore. A surge of panic ran through my body as I digested the most powerful one-what if I was killing them? No, that can't be true, I would obviously remember it. Wouldn't I? I felt my body go numb. I stopped and closed my eyes, wanting all of this to go away, praying to wake up..I was falling, falling into the unknown..

"Hey! Kid! Are you all right?" I opened my eyes, feeling a rough hand on my forehead. Why was I on my back?

"Where am I?" I asked groggily.

"In the middle of the road, missy, though I've no idea why. Were you tired? Why were you sleeping here??" I brushed the guy's hand off. He must have been in his late 50's, but he could have passed for 40 if he didn't have the whiskers and beer belly.

"I wasn't sleeping. I just.."

"Blacked out? Fainted?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Again, I thought. Why is this happening to me?

"You tell me, kid. I'm no doctor." I had said that out loud? "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes." No.

"Have a nice day." He stood up with a groan and walked away, a slight limp in his left leg. I sat there for a second and held my head, still a bit dizzy, then scrambled up. My watch said it was past noon-I'd been out for hours. No dreams. That was good. There was no point in going back to school this late. I turned and began to walk home.