Excerpt
Claire
A Novel in Progress by Amber Lea Starfire, ©2007
Claire sat quietly in her booster seat, watching the treetops, roofs, and chimneys roll past. She felt tired. But she didn't want to go to sleep, because sleep always brought dreams, and dreams were terrifying. Mommy always told her that it was o.k. Dreams were just pictures made up in her head. Mommy said they couldn't hurt her. Nevertheless, Claire fought slipping away, fought the melting of her body into sleep, fought to keep her eyes open, to stay awake...
She was in cold darkness. Her blood raced through her veins, heart pounding in her ears. Where was she? Slowly, she reached out a hand and touched a cold, smooth wall. It felt like the wallpaper in the bathroom at home, smooth except for occasional bumps where the wallpaper wrinkled. It was quiet, so quiet she could hear her own breathing, raspy and quick, a counterpoint to the rhythm of her heart. Somewhere near, a faint, rhythmic dripping sound punctuated the stillness. She'd heard that sound before, when the roof leaked and the rain drops gently slapped the water in the pail that Mommy placed under the leak. Water. She'd watched the rings ripple quickly outward after each drop.
She was lying on something soft, like her bed, but not her bed, and her legs were tied. She tried, but couldn't move them. A dream, this is a just a dream, she whispered to her self. Terrified, she began to whimper, "Mommy? Mommy? Mommeeeeee….." ...