Night

Sleep, they say. Fend off the terror of the night and the fear of your own mind with a mere distraction. Find peace in nothingness for eight hours before you start over. Sleep will keep you sane, they promised. But if that were true, I wouldn’t be losing my mind. If that were true, the monsters would stop coming. If that were true, she’d still be alive.
“Falena! Are you listening?” Shouted an all-too familiar voice. “Not a bit. What do you want, Sam?” Falena replied, tone just as sour as the smell in the dank library they sat in. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for five minutes!” He shouted. “Shhh…library,” she reminded him, the edge in her voice falling away. Falena had known Sam since she moved here when she was nine, nearly ten years ago, and she hated him since. Of course, it wasn’t really hate, rather a disguise for her… appreciation of him. He was a year and a half older than her and made it his job to protect her, he never understood, however, her greatest battles were fought because of him.
“Right. But this is big, worth breaking library rules- there’s been another-“
His voice trailed off, his eyes becoming distracted with the book Falena had been reading, or rather, doodling in. “Lena…did you…did you draw that?” He asked, voice shaking ever so slightly. “Yeah…why?” She asked, closing the book slowly. “Len, that’s what I was going to tell you about. Have you already heard?” He asked, grabbing the book from her and studying the drawing. “Heard what?” She asked, rummaging through her thoughts to think of what it is she might know. “The artifact- the one that killed a guy and healed four,” he said, darkly and theatrically, as if performing. “What? No…I haven’t.” She replied, snatching the book from his hands and shoving it back on the shelf. “Then how did you draw it?” He asked, taking the book off the shelf and slipping it into his bag, almost without notice. following her out the door, he patiently waited for an answer. She sighed. “Another dream- a short one, last week.” She whispered after some time. He stopped walking and stared at her. “You slept?” He had been caught off guard. “Y-you slept…and you had another dr-”
“Shh…someone will hear you,”
She hushed him, hand over his mouth. He must have not realized the sarcasm dripping from her words. He pushed her hand off, following her as she began walking again.
“Why are you following me, Sam?” She asked, annoyed with his persistence. This must be important. or stupid.
“Lena…it heals people,”
His voice had lost all of its magic, turning to a dark sort of hope, trying to convey some emotion she didn't care to decipher. “Where are you going with this?” She said, hand reached out to the front door of her home, a small, shabby apartment with a blue door.
“You…you could be better, heal your…dream thing,” he stumbled over each word, unsure of what he should say next, every word with potential to start an argument.
She merely chuckled, shook her head, and shut the door, leaving him out. She did not need to be healed. She needed to fight.





(chapter 2 out NOW)