Chapter 6 Home sweet home!

When my eyes opened, I was back in the car. I sat bolt upright, worried if it was probably too sudden for my family. But only Jessie noticed.

"What's the matter?" She leaned toward me and whispered.

"Yeah I'm fine." I managed to mutter amidst my heavy breathing.

She said nothing; her eyes moved downwards and stared fixatedly at a particular spot.

"What?' I asked.

"There are bruises on your neck," She said blankly.

"Uhh I think I accidentally scratched myself during my sleep," I stuttered, looking down at my fingers.

"You don't have nails, Mark." Jessie said as-a-matter-of-factly, indicating my hands with a slight nod of the head.

"Look I had a nightmare, okay?" I whispered furiously. "And for some reason there's a bruise where I got scratched in the dream."

She peered at me for a few more seconds and shrugged, turning around. I drew a deep breath and looked outside, there was no sign of any accident or nurses in an ambulance, but then again Dad was still driving, and I don't think he stopped.

"Where are we now Dad?" I asked, breathing more steadily now.

"South Carolina, just nine kilometers from New Jersey." He said cheerfully and clapped his hands twice.

"Could you turn on the radio, Dad?" Jess suggested as she handed me some toffee.

"Nah," Dad said without looking back. "You two just wanted me to break my silence pact."

"Oh come on, you know that's not true." Jessie whined.

"I don't care; my days of speaking while driving are over, starting now." He snapped his fingers and made a dramatic gesture of zipping his mouth shut.

Jessie continued to whine, and this time Mom joined her. I didn't bother joining in myself, if the two women in his life couldn't make him break a pact there was basically nothing I could do, right?

I gave a snort, lying back as I began recounting the events of my dream. I shivered as I pictured the plump nurse in my mind's eye, realizing that although she was plus size, she looked a whole lot like the receptionist at Wordsworth's.

I rambled through my pockets for the piece of paper Clarissa had given me, deciding that I had to at least memorize her number if anything out of the ordinary did happen in the real world and not just in my dreams. A sudden surge of panic enveloped me as my hands returned to me empty. Frantically I thrust my hand rapidly in and out of each pocket, the panic rising each time they came out empty.

"Looking for something, tiger?" Jessie turned back towards me, waving the piece of paper I was looking for in front of my face.

I lunged forward, snatching the paper out of her hands in a split second and stuffing it back in my pocket.

"Now would you tell me what's going on, or should I call the cops?" She whispered and nodded in the direction of Mom and Dad.

I looked warily at Dad, worried that he would overlook breaking his pact just to get in on the conversation, but if he did hear Jessie, he didn't act like he did. Mom's head was beginning to bob lazily, she had fallen asleep.

"Who's Clarissa and why do you have her number?" Jess pressed.

I took one look at her and made for my backpack, replacing it after fishing out some paper and a pen. Jessie kept staring at me while I scribbled furiously.

We are in big trouble. I wrote.

She took the paper from me and gave me a weird stare as she read and re-read what I'd written, and then she took the pen from me and wrote in her usual slow manner, handing both items to me. What do you mean?

There's a reason why we all had the same nightmare at those woods. I wrote.

Why? She wrote back, still at a snail's pace.

That forest where we camped for the night is called Dreamwoods. I wrote back quickly and handed it to her.

She put her hands over her mouth and gave a small gasp as she read what I'd written, she bent over the paper, her writing speed noticeably picking up pace. Wait! I know that place! It's supposed to show whoever sleeps there a glimpse of their future, or at least a future it has created for them.

I gave a shrug after reading her note; she stared at me for a bit and drew the paper from my hands, writing even faster now. But it doesn't make any sense, Dreamwoods are supposed to be at Kansas.

I took a pause and tried to recall. The sign at the second hotel read: The Hank Brothers' Inn and Spa, Kansas.

With eyes as big as saucers, she glared at me, bending over and scribbling furiously now. So does that means the nightmare is going to come true?

Maybe. I wrote back, a wave of dread washing over me as I spotted a sign reading New Jersey looming overhead; I glanced at Jessie and pointed to the road sign.

Jess and I began shifting uneasily in our seats, while we were happy to be off the roads after two days, we also knew that we would be getting into something scary pretty soon. Dad suddenly put the radio on, making us jump as metallic music blared throught the speakers, and he gritted his teeth at us in apology, quickly turning down the volume.

Before I could take time to draw the smallest of breaths, Jessie's slammed the paper and pen in my hands. I gave an exasperated sigh and bent to read what she'd written.

This doesn't explain why you have a Clarissa's number in your pocket.

She's the receptionist at the second hotel we stayed. I wrote back. She's the one who told me all about Dreamwoods, she offered me her email and telephone number and said she could be of help.

Jessie took the note and read it, and then she reached for her phone and pressed it into my hands. "Send her an email right away!"

"She's probably still at work." I retorted.

"She'll read it when she opens her phone, which is why you have to it now."

"Okay, okay." I muttered resignedly as I took the phone from her and opened her Gmail app, when nothing came up I peered at the GPRS bar. "There's no network connection." I whispered.

"Great." Jessie replied, her voice above a whisper now.

"What's great?" Mom asked, suddenly awake.

"Uhh, this new challenge on social media," Jessie said, laughing nervously as she cast me a furtive that definitely meant I should hide the paper we'd been using to communicate.

"Yeah," I echoed, sitting on the paper.

"But how are you logged in? There's no service in here." Mom said, raising her phone and moving it in the air as if her words weren't proof enough.

"I have a VPN," Jessie answered quickly.

"Oh well in that case, could you turn on your hotspot for me?" Mom grinned, unlocking her phone. "I'd like to see what the social media challenge is."

Jessie was quick to answer again, only this time I wished she'd said nothing instead. "Uhm, Mark started the challenge, why don't you tell her what it's about, Mark?" She glared at me.

I shot her an angry look, taking a deep breath. "Um actually, it's just a thing where you try to open a bottle by using anything except your hands."

"Oh, okay." Mom said, finally turning around now, it wasn't a full minute before she turned back. "What's th name of the challenge again?"

"#bottlechallenge." I said quickly, swallowing hard.

"I really think I should see this," Mom said. "Come on Jessie turn your hotspot on."

Me and Jessie exchanged glances, and then she threw her hands in the air. "Oh no!"

"What is it, dear?" Mom asked.

"My data bundle's finished." Jessie said, feigning frustration and shooting me a smirk when Mom wasn't looking.

"Damn, I really hoped I'd see some of it. But how do you open a bottle without your hands, what kind of bottle is it?"

"Umm, any?' I offered.

"But that's dangerous, what if you accidentally spill the contents on the floor? Or break the bottle if it's a glass one?"

"Nothing like that's ever happened," I replied.

"Well no one would post their fail videos would they?"

"Mom, come on!" I and Jess whined.

"I'm just saying it could be dangerous‒"

"Alright people, welcome to New Jersey!" Dad exclaimed with a hearty laugh as he threw his arms up.

"Silence pact broken!" I and Jessie chorused, happy to be spared from one of Mom's lectures about safety.

"I'll just turn on the GPS and we'll be home in no time!" Dad continued, whistling a tune, he'd probably forgotten about his oath.

"You do that while I check out this new challenge your son created." Mom said, raising her phone to her face. I and Jessie exchanged glances and sighed, sinking in our seats.

We drove on for another half-hour, finally pulling into a neighborhood.

"This is where we live now, kids!" Dad announced, still whistling.

I peered at one of the house numbers and immediately I felt something between fear and confusion, or a mixture of both, I wasn't sure.

"Uhm, why does that house say Sixty-six Spooky Street?"

"Don't be so dramatic, Mark. It says 'Spookey Street'. It's probably the name of the company that owns the neighborhood." Jessie replied, but her face was turning pale.

Dad drove on wordlessly until we arrived at the driveway of a big house, painted in brown and white, with long spherical windows. In all, it bore a striking resemblance to the cottage from my dream.

"Uhh, does this house look familiar to anyone, even a little bit?" Jessie suddenly voiced, she had noticed too.

Dad and Mom exchanged looks, shaking their heads; they had forgotten the dream in all the excitement to get here.

"What do you mean Jessie? This is a new house, built only when we bought the property."

"They're probably homesick," Dad snickered, stepping out of the car. "Alright everyone out!"

I swallowed hard and exchanged glances with Jessie.

"Make sure you don't lose that piece of paper," She whispered. "Now let's just play along and act like everything's fine."

"Sure," I muttered.

We drew out our little luggage, trudging as happily as any of us could towards the house, which meant a slow crawl for me. With each I took closer to the house, the dream played itself in flashes.

As we neared the porch we noticed there were lights on in the house, muffled voices flowed through the windows as well.

"Are you sure we're in the right house? Why are there noises inside?" Mom asked.

"Probably the moving agents," Dad replied, gesturing to a plaque beside the doorpost. "See, it says The Wordsworths here." He grinned, earning a shrug from the rest of us.

Then he pressed the doorbell and a very nice voice told us to come in, just as in the dream. Me and Jessie exchanged glances for the zillionth time as Dad pushed the door open.

It opened to reveal a beautifully decorated living room, much too similar to the one from the cottage, but that was not the scariest thing about the room, yet.

Through the open door to the living room we spotted a man seated facing the fireplace, with his back turned to us!