"Mommy," I said. I had lost my little green headband with the purple pock-a-dots, and simply could NOT live without it. Mommy always knew where my stuff was. That's why nothing was lost for long in our house. She would read her long novel books on late Sunday afternoons like this one. So, of course, I had to run through the many halls in our house until I reached the master bedroom—mommy and daddy's room, but I was determined to find her no matter what, so I took the challenge.
The hallway was quiet and dark and dim. I flipped on the light switch, so I could see. As I ran up the stairs, my shiny blonde hair danced about my six-year old shoulders. I was in a hurry.
"Mommy?" I asked. There was no response. Daddy was at work and wouldn't come home for another hour. He always worked late back then.
"Mommy!" I demanded as I turned the corner into another hallway, right before mommy and daddy's bedroom. I started stomping down the hall now, and making loud pressured noises with my mouth. Finally, I walked into the room. I could see mommy's head on the other side of my mommy and daddy's giant canopy bed. I was excited. Our house was huge, and so, sometimes it took me "years" to actually find where everyone was located at.
I crossed over the bed, about to jump upon my mommy's lap, when I saw it.
"Aaahhh!" I screamed. I ran out of the room, and to the nearest telephone. I dialed my daddy's work number. My breath quickened and I couldn't get the last scene out of my head.
"Daddy?" I asked, breathing harshly.
"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked, "Are you alright?"
"Daddy…" I cried.
"What is it, honey? Tell me," he said, desperately.
"Something really bad happened," I said, still crying dramatically. He was silent.
"Mommy…mommy…mommy…died," I cried really hard this time.
"What?" he asked, quietly. I could tell he was disturbed, but all I could do was cry now. I cried loud, and I cried hard.
"Daddy!!!" I screamed into the phone. "Daddy, come home!" Tears were rolling so freely down my cheeks now that I had to wipe them away in order to stay free from extremely damp cheeks.
"I'm coming home. Just watch a movie, okay?" he said. I loved my daddy. He was the best daddy ever, and those words just washed over me and soothed me to completion.
"Okay," I said.
"Where is mom?" he asked.
"In your bedroom," I whispered. My breathing had slowed down a little bit.
"Alright," he said. "Just go down to the playroom and watch a movie, okay?" he said.
"Okay," I exhaled deeply, and tried to put on a smile, as if maybe he was watching and needed that assurance.
"Alright, I'll be home soon," he said. "I love you."
"I love you too, daddy," I said.
"It's going to be alright. Bye," he said.
"Bye," I said, and then I hung up. I rocked myself for a few moments, and then went downstairs. I didn't even attempt going back up to THAT room. I couldn't. I was too scared. I turned on a movie, and before its finish, I had fallen asleep. I couldn't hear when Daddy opened the door, and kissed me lightly on my forehead. I couldn't hear him running upstairs and going down all the hallways. But I DID hear the next thing that happened.
"Oh my God! NO!" My eyes flung open, as I heard the terrible screams and moans coming from the upstairs bedroom. I tried to push the image out of my mind, but I couldn't. I knew what Daddy had seen. He had seen the knife.
"Are you alright?" my father asked, shaking me awake. My vision cleared as my eyelids sprung open, and I looked him straight in the eyes.
"Yeah," I said, nodding to my father. He sat down next to me on my bed.
"Are you sure?" he asked, brushing his hand over my soft face.
"Yes. I just couldn't fall asleep, but I did now, so it's all good," I said. My eyes could no longer remain contacted with my father's. He knew whenever I wasn't telling the whole truth, and I knew if I kept looking directly at his eyes, I could never hold the tears back.
Luck was not on my side tonight, however. Daddy turned my chin toward him and asked me to look him in the eyes, which I did. Then, I broke down; just like I knew I would and embraced my father fiercely.
"What is it?" he asked, rocking my fragile body as it shook.
"I had the dream again," I said, breathing heavily just like I had that night so many years ago.
"Oh…Eveline, it's okay. It's all over now," he said, kissing my forehead lightly and cradling it in his warm hands. And for a moment, I believed that little facet of information; my father had so willingly offered me. But then, I backed away from his warm embrace, just enough to see his sweet, caring eyes look at me.
"Is it?" I asked.
A/N: This is just the beginning, so please give it a chance and let me know what you think. Tell me what you like…what you don't or whatever! I'd love to know what you think. And if I feel so inspired…(or if you review enough. Lol.) I shall continue this story, gladly. BYE!