her? She was crying.
He held her hand tightly, never letting it go. She could sense his fear, feel his heart beating. He was afraid for her,
for them. Why? She couldn’t remember, couldn’t see through the storm. She smelled the water then. Deep, evil, powerful. The water was her only hope, her only chance. She screamed, jumped, and screamed again. Then all was silence as the water thundered into her ears, forced itself down her throat, and burned its way into her nose, her lungs, her brain. This water was fierce and deadly—not cool, gentle waves but hot, choking, liquid flames, sucking the breath of life from her. She struggled, searching for air, for land, for something to hold on to. But there was only the water, pulling her into its depths. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t swim. She could no longer scream. The water filled her, seared her thoughts, and she drifted slowly into unconsciousness. The fire cooled, the terror ebbed, and the dark shadow of death embraced her.
She drifted then—in a haze of colors and swirls and black, frightening void. Voices? Could she hear voices? One voice? No, all was silence. No reason to care, to breathe, to live. So easy to let the silence swallow her. That voice. It pierced the darkness. It was calling her name, grabbing her thoughts, and making her remember the fear, the pain, the cold, clammy water. The water! She gasped, and the water grabbed her once more, viciously dragging her to its depths. But that voice. A man’s voice. It floated down to where she lay, cradled in the arms of the victorious water. The voice called her one last time. It was Julio.
Romiette’s scream pierced the night, and she sat straight up in her bed. She was shivering violently as her mother rushed into the room. Her mother sat on the bed and cuddled Romi as she had when she wasa child. She rocked her and whispered, “Romi, baby, what’s wrong?”
Romi shivered from cold, and she felt wet and clammy. She gulped huge breaths of the night air. “I don’t know, Mama, I had a terrible dream!” It felt good to be in her mother’s arms once again. Romi slowly relaxed and started to breathe normally.
Her mother stroked her back. “Shhh. It’s OK now. Let’s turn on the light. Breathe easy now. That’s better. Do you remember it at all?”
Romi knew every single detail, but she told her mother, “No, it’s all a blur. Someone was chasing me and I fell and I don’t remember anything else.” Somehow she couldn’t tell her mother the truth—not yet.
“Do you want me to stay in here with you?”
This time she told the truth. “Yes, Mama. Just for a little while.” Romi smiled and snuggled back under her covers. Her mother smiled and curled up next to her daughter. She stayed there until Romi slowly drifted back to sleep. The dream did not return that night.
26.
At Destiny’s House
Destiny and Romi were sitting on Destiny’s huge water bed. They were supposed to be doing homework. They had to complete all the essentials first—fix their hair, pick out outfits for the next day, and do each other’s nails. Romi, still shaky and unsettled from the dream of the night before, asked, “Destiny, you know that dream I told you about? It’s back, even more frightening. More details. I’m running, running from death, then I’m drowning. And the voice, the voice at the end of the dream I couldn’t identify …”
“It was Julio, right?” Destiny cried with satisfaction.
“Does that mean he saves me, or is he the one who’s drowning me? It’s so confusing!”
“Can you tell who you’re running from?”
“No, it was dark and shadowy, and there was blood, or rain—I couldn’t tell which—and Julio was holding my hand and we were running from—”
“Wait a minute. Julio was holding your hand while you were running?”
“Yes!”
“Then he couldn’t be the one drowning you. He was the voice!”
“I don’t know. I’m so confused. And scared. What does this all
He held her hand tightly, never letting it go. She could sense his fear, feel his heart beating. He was afraid for her,
for them. Why? She couldn’t remember, couldn’t see through the storm. She smelled the water then. Deep, evil, powerful. The water was her only hope, her only chance. She screamed, jumped, and screamed again. Then all was silence as the water thundered into her ears, forced itself down her throat, and burned its way into her nose, her lungs, her brain. This water was fierce and deadly—not cool, gentle waves but hot, choking, liquid flames, sucking the breath of life from her. She struggled, searching for air, for land, for something to hold on to. But there was only the water, pulling her into its depths. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t swim. She could no longer scream. The water filled her, seared her thoughts, and she drifted slowly into unconsciousness. The fire cooled, the terror ebbed, and the dark shadow of death embraced her.
She drifted then—in a haze of colors and swirls and black, frightening void. Voices? Could she hear voices? One voice? No, all was silence. No reason to care, to breathe, to live. So easy to let the silence swallow her. That voice. It pierced the darkness. It was calling her name, grabbing her thoughts, and making her remember the fear, the pain, the cold, clammy water. The water! She gasped, and the water grabbed her once more, viciously dragging her to its depths. But that voice. A man’s voice. It floated down to where she lay, cradled in the arms of the victorious water. The voice called her one last time. It was Julio.
Romiette’s scream pierced the night, and she sat straight up in her bed. She was shivering violently as her mother rushed into the room. Her mother sat on the bed and cuddled Romi as she had when she wasa child. She rocked her and whispered, “Romi, baby, what’s wrong?”
Romi shivered from cold, and she felt wet and clammy. She gulped huge breaths of the night air. “I don’t know, Mama, I had a terrible dream!” It felt good to be in her mother’s arms once again. Romi slowly relaxed and started to breathe normally.
Her mother stroked her back. “Shhh. It’s OK now. Let’s turn on the light. Breathe easy now. That’s better. Do you remember it at all?”
Romi knew every single detail, but she told her mother, “No, it’s all a blur. Someone was chasing me and I fell and I don’t remember anything else.” Somehow she couldn’t tell her mother the truth—not yet.
“Do you want me to stay in here with you?”
This time she told the truth. “Yes, Mama. Just for a little while.” Romi smiled and snuggled back under her covers. Her mother smiled and curled up next to her daughter. She stayed there until Romi slowly drifted back to sleep. The dream did not return that night.
26.
At Destiny’s House
Destiny and Romi were sitting on Destiny’s huge water bed. They were supposed to be doing homework. They had to complete all the essentials first—fix their hair, pick out outfits for the next day, and do each other’s nails. Romi, still shaky and unsettled from the dream of the night before, asked, “Destiny, you know that dream I told you about? It’s back, even more frightening. More details. I’m running, running from death, then I’m drowning. And the voice, the voice at the end of the dream I couldn’t identify …”
“It was Julio, right?” Destiny cried with satisfaction.
“Does that mean he saves me, or is he the one who’s drowning me? It’s so confusing!”
“Can you tell who you’re running from?”
“No, it was dark and shadowy, and there was blood, or rain—I couldn’t tell which—and Julio was holding my hand and we were running from—”
“Wait a minute. Julio was holding your hand while you were running?”
“Yes!”
“Then he couldn’t be the one drowning you. He was the voice!”
“I don’t know. I’m so confused. And scared. What does this all
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