tremorworks

September 13

Dear Samantha,

I can’t even tell you how much I miss all of you. I wish I was still back home with you and everyone else, instead of being stuck way out here at this horrible all-girls school. I wish my father hadn’t been transferred here. It’s horrible. I don’t know anyone, and no one seems to want to make friends with me. All the girls here have their own cliques, and I don’t really fit into any of them. We never did, any of us, least of all you and I.

Anyway, ever since we moved I’ve been having these dreams. I tried getting a book by Freud from the library on interpreting dreams, and I just can’t seem to draw any parallels between them and my life like the book says. I’d imagine I’d have dreams about you and everyone else, about the things we used to do together, or even dreams about trying to get some place or trying to reach someone. But no, my dreams don’t make any sense.

And the scary thing is, they’ve been getting more and more vivid, more and more realistic. My dreams used to always be so weird and totally off the wall, nothing like real life at all. I was always bad at remembering them too, but it seems like I remember at least one a night now. And they’re not even dreams, really. They’re more like nightmares. I’m always in places I don’t recognize, or some that have a few features from places I’ve been, and I’m being chased. I never know who is chasing me, but I know they’re there. I can hear them. Or more like I can feel them. I can’t explain it, but it’s so scary. I wonder if I should see a shrink about them.

Last night I think one of them caught me. My memory of it now is a little hazy, but I remember tripping while I was running, and seeing something dark and cold grab my ankle. When I suddenly woke up, I could still feel it. It was like fingers of ice had just grabbed me and squeezed as hard as they could. It was too dark to see if there was a mark, but believe me I ac tually checked.

Anyway, I’m going to read some more of that book. Maybe these dreams will start to make sense. They must have something to do with how much I miss my old home, and all my friends.

I’ll write again soon.

Your friend forever,
Lucy