Chapter 1 - Part 3
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Paivi returned home after Mrs. Brown’s funeral, ran straight up the stairs to her room and threw herself down on the bed. Curled up into a ball, she rocked back and forth, holding her knees and told herself from that point on she didn’t want to have any more dreams. She swore that she would do everything to block them out—there was nothing worth the pain of seeing a loved one hurt. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if Michaela ever found out that she had known what would happen to her mother. Losing her best friend was not a risk she was willing to take, if she could help it.
And so she tried. Every night before she went to sleep, she would clear her mind. If she had a dream, she would try to forget it the minute she woke up, drowning the images in everyday things and pushing them into the farthest corners of her mind. Every day she would remember less and less. She was winning the battle.
Sometimes she would be concentrating so hard on chasing the images away, with her eyes scrunched closed and her hands balled up in fists at her sides, that she wouldn’t notice the odd things that were happening around her.
It started slowly at first⎯it was hardly noticeable. Paivi was so focused on getting rid of the dreams that she didn’t notice a small horse figurine move just slightly across the top of her dresser. She didn’t see the book sliding ever so gently towards the edge of the bookshelf, where it stopped before falling.
One day, however, as she was concentrating ever so hard on pushing a particularly happy vision from her mind, she noticed.
Maybe, she thought to herself, it wasn’t so bad to have these dreams. After all, most of the time they were good, sometimes even fun!
Paivi then thought back to Mrs. Brown’s funeral. Trees with budding leaves framed the scene in the cemetery, softening the harsh gray of the gravestones. Bright sunlight reflected off of the pearly casket as it sat over the large hole dug in the fresh earth. The scene was almost beautiful, if it wasn’t for the tragedy that lay beneath the mountain of blood-red roses.
Paivi felt a surge of anger push through all of her anguish. Her brain was on fire from the heat of the emotion that coursed through her. She clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut. She gave out a cry, unable to keep the rush of energy inside her body. It burst out through her fingertips, whipping around her. The sound of a loud crash brought her back into the room. She opened her eyes to see books flying across the room from the shelves and slamming into the wall opposite. They fell to the floor in a heap, open with pages and covers bent. Figurines of horses and unicorns as well as dolls were flying from the top of her dresser and smashing into the walls. Shards of porcelain rained down on the floor.
She stood up, looking around in amazement. It looked like a bomb had gone off. Posters had fallen to the floor and others clung to the wall in tatters. A flying hairbrush had shattered a mirror and the walls were chipped and dented from the force of the collisions. Her parents thundered up the stairs and threw open the door. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson stood in the doorway, stunned, their jaws dropped so that their chins almost touched their chests. They looked at each other with wide eyes and then at Paivi, bewildered by the destruction that surrounded their little girl and stunned that she stood in the middle of the chaos and was completely unscathed.
Join us on Friday for the first part of Chapter 2 of INTO THE SHADOWS!