“Don’t let him see me! I can’t be found alone with a boy! Please, I’ll be in so much trouble!”
He released her, and she climbed off the opposite side of the bed and hid in the shadows and curtains at the head, standing stiff as a bedpost within the brocade drapery. She closed her eyes and wished the person at the door away.
There was silence in the room. Caitlyn waited to hear Raphael or the other’s voice, but the seconds stretched into minutes and there was no sound. They were gone.
She realized with a sinking dread that she wasn’t in the room with Raphael anymore. She couldn’t hear her own breathing anymore, or feel her heart in her chest. She was somewhere else, somewhere bad.
No, not again …
Cold seeped over her skin, like frost on glass. She had the vertiginous sensation of falling, and spread her arms, grabbing for something to hold. She gripped something cold and damp that gave way beneath her fingers, and even though she knew what was waiting for her she opened her eyes.
The moment she did, the sound hit her: screeching screams of terror, ripped from an abyss of the soul. This time they came from a thin girl as transparent as smoke. Her hair hung in wet tangles around her pale face, her mouth stretched wide as she screamed. She clawed at Caitlyn, her fingers bent like talons, her scrawny arms moving with fierce, desperate speed.
Caitlyn screamed.
The sound of her own voice broke through her sleep, knocking her abruptly into the waking world. She could feel the tail end of her scream in her throat even as she sat up and fumbled for the switch on her lamp.
Amalia was already out of bed and halfway across the room toward her. “Are you okay? Mein Gott , you gave me a fright!”
“Sorry! I’m so sorry! I was having a nightmare.” She steadied herself and tried to calm her rapid breathing.
“I should think so! Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry I woke you.”
Amalia waved away the thought. “We cannot control our dreams.”
Caitlyn rubbed her face with her shaking hands, feeling the cold slick sweat of fear.
Amalia went back to her bed. “Do you want to talk about it? What was it about?”
Caitlyn bunched up her pillow and held it to her chest for comfort. “It wasn’t really about anything. It never is.”
“You have these nightmares often?”
Caitlyn shrugged one shoulder. “I had hoped not to have any here,” she evaded. “Maybe I’ll need to buy you earplugs?” she joked.
Amalia settled back into her pillow. “If it becomes a problem, you can take sleeping pills, yes?” she said, and again Caitlyn was not sure whether she was serious or joking.
“It shouldn’t be a problem,” she said, hoping it would become the truth. “I’m just tense. New place, new people. You know.”
“I sometimes dream that I have an exam for which I’m not prepared, and once I even dreamed that a tiger was trying to eat me, but I don’t think I’ve ever had such a bad dream that I woke up screaming. What is it that scares you so badly?”
“Things … that want to hurt me.”
“What things?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what they are, really.”
Amalia’s eyebrows rose. “But you suspect?”
“They look like some type of … well, some type of ghost, or evil spirit. Just in my dreams, of course. I know they aren’t real,” she fibbed. She wasn’t sure of that, at all.
“It’s good they aren’t real. You’d be in trouble, if they were.” Amalia smiled. “Castles are always full of ghosts.”
“Then thank heavens these exist only in my imagination,” Caitlyn said faintly. She turned off her light and lay back down, staring into the dark, trying to shove the Screechers out of her mind and think instead of the fragment of dream she remembered from before that screeching, clawing girl had made her appearance.
Raphael.
It was the second time she’d dreamed of him in the space of a day, and each time she’d thought of the
He released her, and she climbed off the opposite side of the bed and hid in the shadows and curtains at the head, standing stiff as a bedpost within the brocade drapery. She closed her eyes and wished the person at the door away.
There was silence in the room. Caitlyn waited to hear Raphael or the other’s voice, but the seconds stretched into minutes and there was no sound. They were gone.
She realized with a sinking dread that she wasn’t in the room with Raphael anymore. She couldn’t hear her own breathing anymore, or feel her heart in her chest. She was somewhere else, somewhere bad.
No, not again …
Cold seeped over her skin, like frost on glass. She had the vertiginous sensation of falling, and spread her arms, grabbing for something to hold. She gripped something cold and damp that gave way beneath her fingers, and even though she knew what was waiting for her she opened her eyes.
The moment she did, the sound hit her: screeching screams of terror, ripped from an abyss of the soul. This time they came from a thin girl as transparent as smoke. Her hair hung in wet tangles around her pale face, her mouth stretched wide as she screamed. She clawed at Caitlyn, her fingers bent like talons, her scrawny arms moving with fierce, desperate speed.
Caitlyn screamed.
The sound of her own voice broke through her sleep, knocking her abruptly into the waking world. She could feel the tail end of her scream in her throat even as she sat up and fumbled for the switch on her lamp.
Amalia was already out of bed and halfway across the room toward her. “Are you okay? Mein Gott , you gave me a fright!”
“Sorry! I’m so sorry! I was having a nightmare.” She steadied herself and tried to calm her rapid breathing.
“I should think so! Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry I woke you.”
Amalia waved away the thought. “We cannot control our dreams.”
Caitlyn rubbed her face with her shaking hands, feeling the cold slick sweat of fear.
Amalia went back to her bed. “Do you want to talk about it? What was it about?”
Caitlyn bunched up her pillow and held it to her chest for comfort. “It wasn’t really about anything. It never is.”
“You have these nightmares often?”
Caitlyn shrugged one shoulder. “I had hoped not to have any here,” she evaded. “Maybe I’ll need to buy you earplugs?” she joked.
Amalia settled back into her pillow. “If it becomes a problem, you can take sleeping pills, yes?” she said, and again Caitlyn was not sure whether she was serious or joking.
“It shouldn’t be a problem,” she said, hoping it would become the truth. “I’m just tense. New place, new people. You know.”
“I sometimes dream that I have an exam for which I’m not prepared, and once I even dreamed that a tiger was trying to eat me, but I don’t think I’ve ever had such a bad dream that I woke up screaming. What is it that scares you so badly?”
“Things … that want to hurt me.”
“What things?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what they are, really.”
Amalia’s eyebrows rose. “But you suspect?”
“They look like some type of … well, some type of ghost, or evil spirit. Just in my dreams, of course. I know they aren’t real,” she fibbed. She wasn’t sure of that, at all.
“It’s good they aren’t real. You’d be in trouble, if they were.” Amalia smiled. “Castles are always full of ghosts.”
“Then thank heavens these exist only in my imagination,” Caitlyn said faintly. She turned off her light and lay back down, staring into the dark, trying to shove the Screechers out of her mind and think instead of the fragment of dream she remembered from before that screeching, clawing girl had made her appearance.
Raphael.
It was the second time she’d dreamed of him in the space of a day, and each time she’d thought of the
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