Chapter 2: Soaked beds and Hurt Heads
---------- 𝒜𝓃𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶 ----------
----- 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕸𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 -----
A gentle humming could be heard in the distance.
It was soft, and quiet, and warm.
It sounded like a hummingbird landing on the petal of a delicate flower. Its wings could be heard gently fluttering, the wind at each flap gently swaying the colourful plant fibres. The hum was so peaceful, it was enough to make anyone fall asleep, even the bird that so graciously landed on the small buttercup.
The humming: it was so... comforting.
Almost like what you'd hear when you tried to tune your old radio to the station that played all your favourite songs. If only you could get the right angle, the serene buzz would turn into joyful tunes you could sing along to.
But the buzzing, it was more than enough in itself, and a small dance could've easily broken out if you weren't able to adjust the small knobs just right...
At least, that's what Andrea thought she could hear. Darkness wasn't the best thing when trying to make out what something was. Her eyes felt completely useless as she levitated in nothingness. It was as if she was floating; floating in a warm void of fuzz. She couldn't see, but she could hear the comforting static bustling quietly in the background, filtering out any unwanted thoughts. She couldn't see, but she could feel the warmth on her skin as the humming surrounded her, almost like a mother's embrace. She couldn't see, but she could imagine the incredible things that must've been happening all around her; the magnitude of life...
God, was this what it felt like to be dead?
The humming got a little bit louder.
Wait... dead?
The fuzz began to prick at her sides.
She started to remember the fall.
Her head began to burn.
The sensation of drowning came flooding back.
The static began to fizz away at her flesh.
Holy crap, was she dead?
Andrea shot up from the comfort of her pillows as heavy pants escaped her lips. Her eyes were still glued shut, but the humming was gone. There was no hummingbird, no radio, nor a warm motherly hug. It was just her, in her bed, out of breath for the third time that day.
Was that all just a dream?
No, that was all a dream.
That... was all a dream?
THAT WAS ALL A FUCKING DREAM?
SERIOUSLY?!
Aight, she silently swore that she'd sue whatever moron made that article on how to tell if you're asleep.
She couldn't believe it; it had been so long since Andrea had had a nightmare. It was the first one in a long while, since that year's January to be exact. Was that even a nightmare? It didn't matter what it was, it was still awful. Death was not exactly the nicest way to end her good night's sleep, even if the word 'good' in that phrase was debatable.
Slowly, she opened her droopy eyelids, and let the harsh beams of light enter her retinas. She squinted and hissed in pain at the invasive brightness that filled her room, a light that shouldn't have been there. At least not that vibrantly.
Didn't she close the curtains when she went to sleep?
Of course she did, what kind of a monster wouldn't? Andrea tried to blink a few times; she missed using her ability to see. While still very disorientated, Andrea's gaze wandered to where the light was coming from, only to see that her blinds were, in fact, opened. It was a blurry light, but that light meant that her blinds had been moved by someone. She thought to herself for a small while, as she waited for her eyesight to come about.
Her dad probably opened them.
He was... kind... like that.
He always did little things that Andrea would find when she was waddling about on her own. She always knew who the culprit was, and it always made her smile, in some strange way. Most people would've grunted in annoyance, or cursed in vexation - but she? She always appreciated the small gestures he did, even if they were usually supposed to annoy her.
She'd take anything her dad gave, to be honest, and never complained.
Ever.
If rule number one was: don't be stupid; then rule number two would've been: don't question it, just smile and say thank you.
That was why, at that very moment, she was smiling, despite it all. The dream, the sweat, the morning drowsiness, the open blinds. She was smiling, because of him, and that was enough for her to feel motivated to get out of bed. She should do that anyway if she wanted to get to school in time.
Ugh, Andrea had completely forgotten she had school that day, what a pain...
Finally adjusted to the bright environment, Andrea's eyes began scanning her room. The first thing she saw was her white and red bed covers, sitting comfortably on her lap, incredibly wrinkled from never being ironed.
Understandable, she was in her bed after all.
Lifting her head, she saw she was in her room: white walls, wooden floor, blue curtains. Some mismatched pieces of furniture were roughly sprawled out across her room. An outsider would say it looked disorganised. Andrea would say she didn't care.
Understandable, that was her room after all.
All was the same: no trees, no glowing mushrooms, no strange figures summoning smoke out of nothing.
She was safe...
But... she couldn't help but feel... a little bit disappointed actually.
She would have liked to do something different, you know, rather than the same routine she had to endure every single day. Okay yes, the forest was freaky, and it was most definitely out to get her, but it was sure as hell interesting!
Wait, didn't she dream of drowning? Maybe not disappointed then... or maybe if she were to just skip out that part-
At that thought, she finally realised: her bed was soaked. It was as if someone who was drenched in water had slept in her bed. Weird, she thought, but it wasn't only her bed. SHE was also soaked, and it definitely wasn't from natural body moisture. She still had water dripping from her nose and could feel her hair clinging to her scalp. She wondered if her dad had also dumped a bucket of water on her when he came to open the blinds, but that didn't seem like something he would do. She would've continued thinking of who the possible culprit could have been, but stopped when she accidentally tasted the liquid in the midst of her rapid analysis of the situation.
Sweet.
It was sickly sweet.
The same flavour from her dream...
...
...
...Okay... fuck no...
Andrea had enough stuff to deal with as it was and didn't need to add 'paranormal activities <3' to that list. Instead, she decided that her "brother" must've done a practical joke on her, and the taste was purely coincidental.
Yup, that was definitely it.
I mean, it had to be, there was no way that that dream was real; foxes don't 'catch on fire and act as if they're not' in real life after all.
Eventually, after she was satisfied with her conclusion, she removed her heavy duvet from her legs, allowing the cold to attack her exposed body. God, it was cruelly cold. The window wasn't opened, so the outside breeze hadn't snuck inside during the night. Her room shouldn't have been that cold, she noted silently to herself, as she scanned the room with narrowed eyes for any possible reason as to why it was so cold. It was summer after all; heat an obvious addition to all the elements.
So why did it feel like - oh wait, she was soaking wet, that was why.
If she sat there for any longer, she knew she'd get sick. Even if it wasn't her fault she was drenched in sweet water, she had to clean up the mess before anyone else noticed. After all, she didn't want anyone to worry; especially not her dad. She had to get out of bed. She frowned as she felt her motivation run thin. It didn't matter how she felt though, she tried to remind herself.
One foot. Two feet. Both on the floor. Solid. Good. Indeed.
She stopped for a second, confused at the monosyllabic words that had just formed in her mind.
"Why am I being so paranoid?" She whispered to herself, so quietly that she barely heard the words.
She remembered: I just dreamt of falling into water and drowning.
That was a good reason for her to question something as trivial as putting her feet on the floor. Couldn't argue with that.
What even was that dream?
She continued to think, letting her mind start mass printing new wonders and puzzles. Questions began to spiral like a halo around Andrea's crown, growing, and growing, and growing.
Honestly, that dream seemed suspiciously real and tangible. That was the first time she could smell in a dream. Was that normal? Normal... that word seemed so irrelevant to Andrea as she sat in silence with water dripping from her ears.
Nothing seemed normal. Everything seemed wrong.
Logic had taken a one-way ticket to the Bahamas, and creativity was left crawling on top of the fridge like a gremlin past midnight.
Andrea knitted her brows and looked at her feet, the same feet she had used to run. They were dirty. Covered in mud. What the hell? She hadn't even noticed that she was running barefoot in the dream, but never mind that! Why were her feet actually dirty?! A familiar static threatened to explode in her ears. She could feel it pulsing in the back of her head, like a breathing lion getting ready to pounce.
Something distracted her.
Or rather, someone.
"Andrea, I know you're awake! Come downstairs, I made you some toast before I'm off for my shift!" called out a familiar, deep voice from down below.
Logic had returned, the static fell flat. Did he leave the door open as well? Hadn't he ever heard of closing the goddamn door?
You know what, it didn't matter. The sun was shining, Andrea was still breathing, and there were no glowing mushrooms. It was all just a dream. That whole scenario? Yeah, that? That was just a figment of her imagination.
It was fine...
...
She's fine...
...
... Yup, totally fine...
At least that's what she was trying to convince herself.
The morning went past like a blur.
Andrea was dressed, had eaten and was ready to leave in what seemed like a minute: same burnt toast, same blue sweater, same necklace, same plain bag.
'Out the door. Mumble a quick goodbye to your dad doing the dishes,' she thought as she did said actions, making sure not to break eye contact with the floor while doing so. There was no particular reason for why she felt the need to observe the ground while doing her daily routine, she just... always did that. Never really thought about it. Not that she'd ever need to, after all - that routine was a ritual at that point. Andrea hated it, the fact that it never changed. She could chant it every morning and it would never have different lyrics. Annoyingly. The fact she was forced to do the same things every single day made her blood boil.
Wouldn't it be nice for a little change? Just something small, nothing big. Maybe she could eat something else, or run into an old friend, or finally touch the glowing mushrooms...
...I wish for just a little change...
And as if magic was still in play, her prayer was heard and answered yet again.
As Andrea walked to the door, she realised something was, in fact, different. A figure sat in the corner of the living room, across from where the front door was situated, the door she was walking towards. A figure wearing something soft and black, with a hood hiding its face and features.
In a swift moment of rationalisation and connecting dots, Andrea froze. Five words blared in her mind like a neon warning sign.
Conclusion: The phantom was back.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
elkalot
elkalot Hello!
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Have a lovely day, you amazing human bean :)
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