***
That night I woke to a strange sound coming from Amy’s room. Without hesitating, I ran in, thinking in my sleep-addled brain that someone was hurting her. A quick survey of the room showed nothing out of the ordinary. I ran to the bed where Amy was thrashing, making strangled noises in her sleep. A nightmare.
“Amy, wake up.” I shook her shoulder and her eyes flew open.
“Anna!” She threw herself at me, as if to make sure I was real. “They were going to hurt you.”
I tried to pull her little arms away from my neck so I could breathe. For a nine-year-old, she was strong.
“Shh, who was going to hurt me?” I pushed her sweaty hair out of her face and sat down next to her.
“Them. They set the house on fire and I couldn’t get to you.”
“Oh Bug, that’s never going to happen.” I hugged her again, wishing the words I said were true. I wished that more than anything else, because I could handle the spirits. But I’d be damned if they would hurt my family.
“But it did, Anna. They did hurt you.” She grabbed my arms with her crazy strong arms and forced them in front of my face. The doctor said that soon the scars would turn white. For now, they were still pink, puckered, ugly and they covered nearly half of both arms and wound their way up to my right shoulder, my neck and a few tiny spots on the right side of my face. It wasn’t bad enough for skin grafts, and it wasn’t good enough to cover with make-up.
It had started out the same as all the others. A man had come to me asking about his wife, wanting to know if she was taken care of. So I did a little research and ended up finding out she’d gotten remarried. He’d only died seven months prior to the wedding and when I told him, he went ballistic. He demanded that I do something about it. He wanted her dead, along with her new husband. I thought I could talk him down, but I couldn’t. I was in the process of cooking bacon and eggs with Amy, and I shouldn’t have ignored him. I also shouldn’t have underestimated him. He’d thrown a few things here and there, but he hadn’t tried to hurt me.
He ended up trying to kill me instead by chucking the frying pan full of bacon grease at me. His aim was bad, and I’d been able to turn and block most of it. Thank God Amy had been standing on my other side, or else she would have gotten it instead of me. She’d gotten home from a play date only minutes before.
I don’t know what happened to the spirit. Only that I never saw him again.
Slowly, my burns started to heal, but the scars from that day would remain for a long time.
“I know Bug, but one bad apple doesn’t ruin the barrel.”
Amy trembled in my arms, trying to hold me closer. “I don’t want you to die.” Pearly tears fell from her eyes onto her blue comforter.
“I’m not going to die, Ames. You’re just tired. It’s time for bed.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“Sure.” I pulled the blanket up and tucked myself in, folding Amy under my chin. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” It was a promise I’d do anything to keep.
Despite being cramped in Amy’s twin bed, I ended up falling asleep and having the dream about the boy with the gray eyes again.
“Hello, Annabelle,” he said, same as the first time. He sat down next to me, same as the first time. But my dream self was more curious this time.
“Who are you?” He tipped his head back and laughed.
“If only you knew.”
“Oh.” Dream self was satisfied and went back to listening to the waves and enjoying the sun.
When I woke up, I wanted to punch dream self. She was an idiot.