by Kristen Pham
Part of Valerie knew that she was unconscious, and that her body was somewhere on the bathroom floor. But the scene before her eyes was so real that it was hard to remember this couldn’t be anything more than a terrible nightmare.
She was in a strange bedroom, kneeling on a small wooden bed, clutching her sheets with sweaty hands. Her heart beat fast and adrenaline chased through her veins, amplifying her eyesight and hearing.
In the corner of the room, the shadows began to move. Out of the darkness, Sanguina crept toward her. She was gaunt, and in the silvery light, Valerie could make out a network of purplish-blue veins throbbing beneath her translucent skin. Her eyes were a bottomless well of darkness, filled with cold hate.
Sanguina was much more terrifying in this shadow world than she was in reality. How had her tormentor traveled so fast, one minute in the pickup truck and the next in this strange bedroom? It was as if she wasn’t content torturing Valerie when she was awake; she had to visit her nightmares as well.
No matter how many times Valerie saw her, or how often she told herself when she awoke that Sanguina was only a figment of her imagination, she was always frozen by the fear inside her. “She’s not real. This is a dream. She can’t hurt me,” Valerie chanted softly, trying to convince herself that her words were true.
“Give it to me. You know what will happen if you don’t,” Sanguina said in a low, toneless voice that made Valerie’s skin crawl.
“Or maybe you want me to visit your family again?” a deep voice growled nearby. A tall, lanky man with yellow eyes was watching her as well. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him, but she didn’t know his name.
They didn’t always appear together, but when they did, it meant they wanted something. Something Valerie knew she shouldn’t give them. But she always gave in—anything so long as they’d leave her alone. Why was she always so much more afraid, so much weaker, facing these two in a dream than she was in real life?
“Please, go away,” Valerie begged.
“We’re never leaving. Get used to it,” Sanguina rasped in her ear, suddenly so close that Valerie was forced to stare directly into her black eyes. It was like staring into a void. A scream built in her lungs, and she squeezed her eyes shut to escape the emptiness of those eyes.
Some time later, Valerie peeked through her lashes. Her heart was ricocheting around in her rib cage, and she could still taste the echoes of her last scream. Sanguina’s hollow eyes were gone, and instead she saw the little window next to her cot in the room she shared with Daniel.
She opened her eyes wider and saw a familiar, beloved face close to her own. This was another one of her hallucinations, like Sanguina or Yellow-Eyes, except that this one comforted her.
“Cyrus? What…how?” Valerie whispered.
But Cyrus only glowed for a second and then faded away. She blinked, but he didn’t reappear. Fully awake now, she was kneeling on her bed, clutching her sheets in her hands as she had been during her unconscious vision with Sanguina. She was so weak, completely drained—physically and emotionally—by what she had experienced.
It was a different kind of fatigue than what she experienced after the fight. Then, she had been exhausted, but she would have been able to make it through the day. Now she knew the next time she closed her eyes she might not be able to open them again.
She let herself collapse back on her bed. The leftover fear from her dream receded, but it was replaced by a gnawing anxiety about what had happened to her and how she had gotten here. She saw her reflection in the bedside mirror and groaned. Her waist-length brown hair was a sweaty, tangled mess, and her usually warm brown skin had a yellow tinge.
The door cracked open, and Daniel peeked in. He thrust a peanut butter and jelly sandwich into her hand.
“Hide it, quick! She’s coming.”
Valerie shoved the sandwich under her pillow and gave Daniel a reassuring wink. “Don’t worry, little man. It’s all gonna be okay.”
He left, and a minute later, Mrs. Sims came through the door. She was a tall, imposing woman who rarely smiled. Valerie suspected that housing foster children was simply a way to make some extra money, because she clearly didn’t like children. Still, she wasn’t a bully, like her son, so Valerie couldn’t complain. Even considering Adam, this house wasn’t close to the worst of the places she’d lived. She hoped she’d be able to stay.
“Adam told me you wrecked his truck,” Mrs. Sims said accusingly. She stood over Valerie with her arms crossed.
“I apologize, ma’am. I was curious to see how it worked, and it got away from me.”
“That’s a lie. You were going for a joyride before Adam stopped you. I know your type. And then you hit him? That was a coward’s choice. Adam would never hit a girl back.”
Arguing would only make things worse, Valerie knew from experience. “I accept whatever punishment you have for me.”
“It’s too late for any of that. You and Daniel are more trouble than you’re worth. As soon as I can arrange it, you’re both out of here.”
“Daniel wasn’t involved—” Valerie started to say, but Mrs. Sims cut her off with a shake of her head.
“I won’t listen to any of your nonsense. And if there’s any more trouble from either of you, you’ll go without your meals. We’ll start tonight. Perhaps an empty stomach will remind you to be grateful for the generosity of those who take you in.”
Valerie nodded, and Mrs. Sims left. Maybe it was for the best that Daniel was leaving, too. Without her to protect him, Adam could really do some damage. She hoped that he would go to a nice couple with no kids. Or better yet, maybe he would be adopted. It was better to think that way, since there’d be no way to ever see him again.
Still, anxiety for her future made her stomach hurt, and forcing down the sandwich made her want to choke. What if her next foster family was like the one she’d had two years ago, and they locked her up in a closet? Or it could be another situation where she had to lie awake at night, guarding herself against any midnight attacks from other foster kids in the house. She’d have to go back to the streets again, which she hated.
Her breathing became shallow, as if she were breathing through a tiny straw. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest that she thought it would explode. She didn’t normally give in to her fears like this, but she was already so weak. Daniel tiptoed into the room and saw her gasping for air.
“Mrs. Sims! Help! Valerie’s dying!” he cried.
Then she collapsed on her pillow, back into sweet unconsciousness.